The Dead Dove Locker -- "I don't know what I expected."

[Mamorien]

The Greenfield Family.

The moment has arrived, and Raven is finally ready to make her move on Zander. Will it have the result she hopes for? And how will the family deal with this development?

In other news, I am working on an updated edition of the story for ZBookStore, with a new and greatly improved cover image that's way better than the generic thing I threw together at first release, as well as a fresh round of editing, and on top of it all an exclusive tie-in bonus story that will only be available with the paid version. Those who have already purchased the book should be able to get the update for free when it's available, which it should be soon.

https://storiesonline.net/n/52852/the-gr...-family/14

Princess of the Void.

Sykora loves the pool. She never was much of a swimmer before she was carting around a whole stable of babies in her belly. But now the weight is blessedly off her feet in the crystal water of the lanes. Governess Doxima never swims herself, but the Governess’ Mansion has a full pool regardless for her Eqtoran guests and colleagues. An Eqtoran lap is rather daunting; Sykora has decided her time is better spent floating.

She drifts through the water, on her back, hands on her rounded stomach, and watches Qarnaq II’s eternal thunderstorm ripple its rain across the jewel-lit swimming pool’s dome. Aurora is fussy this morning. You are going to be my spear fighter, Sykora thinks, as another little kick stirs.

“Very graceful, Majesty.” Grantyde resurfaces from the water. “Like a fully crewed submarine.”

Little harridans.

Sykora flicks her chief engineer the horns and kicks off from the wall. “Boil yourself, husband.”

The pool door opens and an anticomped attendant bows his way in. “Your guests have arrived, Majesty.”

“Lovely.” Sykora moves to the ladder. She lets out an undignified little huff as gravity reasserts itself on her. And then Grantyde’s hands are beneath her, helping her out.

Well, it’s the least he can do after cramming these little harridans in me. She’s beginning to enter the waddling stage. She feels like a dairy munok sometimes these days, wobbling when she moves. She isn’t fond of the way her belly button has become an outie. Her consolation is the way Grant kisses it, and his little touches—there’s one now, a pinch on her butt—making it clear that as plump as she’s gotten, he still wants her. She beams and pauses at the lip of the pool to feel his big warm arms encircle her.

His chest against her back rumbles with his voice. “How are they?”

As if their father had cued them, she feels another fluttering tickle. She tugs his hand to her belly. “Feel for yourself.”

His stubble prickles the back of her ear. “Eager this morning, huh?”

“They’re working on their backstroke, I think.”

He chuckles and picks her up into the air. The first time he did that, she could feel his muscles fluttering, just a little, at the effort. Nowadays he’s solid as a rock, even with the extra poundage she’s taken on.

It is exactly what she’d hoped, when she gave him Qarnaq: a new sureness has animated her husband. Every move, every decision, every conversation. She’s always loved him—of course she has. But she fell in love with his potential as much as anything else, and now she’s bearing witness to the blooming.

https://www.scribblehub.com/read/1419041...r/2134805/
https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/120617...-harridans