Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 83205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
"Gren," the scarred mesakkah says, gesturing at me. "This is Corvak. He is the splice that was missing from the pods. He and his mate have come to join us."
Gren nods slowly, eyeing me.
"Brothers," the male mutters again, and then turns and leaves. I am left with my look-alike near the waves.
And I do not know what to say.
I rub my mouth as we stare at one another. "Not brothers," I say, just in case he misunderstands. "I am a splice—"
But Gren nods, grasping what I am trying to explain. "Same lab, though. We look very similar. Could be from the same pool of genetic material."
The realization that he is here is shocking. "Valmir did not say anything to me about you. That another splice looks just like me."
He rolls his eyes. "That male does not notice anything save that which concerns him." His tail twitches. "I do not care for him."
Nor I. It is another thing we have in common.
Gren squats down as the child races over to him, holding out a mollusk shell. "Look, Papa!" the small boy cries, and this child is even bigger than the one Aidy held, which makes me break out into a cold sweat. He would come up to her waist. Surely…surely not.
"That one is too small," Gren tells him with clear affection. "A good catch, but it will go back so it can grow bigger, yes?"
The boy nods and races back to the edge of the waves, setting the shell on the shore and then stepping back as he watches it get swept away again. He skips back down the beach, to where he was digging, and attacks the sand again with his stick. The young one looks like Gren. His mane is not as thick and it curls about his head, but the color is the same. His tiny brows are heavy and furred, but the rest of his face is smooth and pale. As he kneels over the sands, his tail swishes back and forth.
This is Gren's child, I realize. He has one with a human female.
This is what my child will look like when Aidy gives birth. I point a trembling finger at the boy, looking to Gren for confirmation. "He…you…?"
Gren nods. "Our son."
"Was he that big when he came out? Where is your mate?" Did she die, producing such a giant creature?
Gren shakes his head. "Babies are much smaller when they are born. They grow over time. Shade is almost four years. Yours will be tiny and fragile when your mate has it."
Relief hits me, so strong it makes me dizzy. I exhale loudly and bend over at the waist, head spinning. "Thank kef."
"Never seen a child?" Gren asks.
"Not until we arrived, no." I straighten, glancing over at him. "Are you a clone of a gladiator?"
"No. I am the original, as far as I know." His mouth curls wryly. "In a sense."
"Did you…have many battles?"
"Enough." The splice shrugs, his gaze on his son as the boy starts digging another hole. "That sort of thing does not matter now."
"It is all I know," I confess, voice bleak. "I have no battles, but my knowledge is rules and regulations, strategies and nothing more. If there are no games here, no competitions, what do I do with myself? What is a gladiator without a challenge?"
Gren eyes me, and then his expression softens as his son comes running up again to show him another shell. "What is a gladiator without a challenge? A father. A good mate. A provider and protector. A friend to others." He shrugs. "You are mourning a life you never had. Embrace the one in front of you."
"Good size?" the little boy asks as he holds up a shell, his small body quivering with excitement.
"A fantastic size," Gren tells him, ruffling his hair. "Good job, my son."
The boy breaks out into a grin, showing a gap-toothed smile, and something inside me softens. Embrace the future. Embrace this life.
The child turns to look at me, squinting up. "Who are you?"
"I am Corvak," I say, kneeling down to his height. "And I am new here. What are you digging?"
"Shells," he says. "But only shells with critters in them. Mama wants them for dinner."
"I have never hunted shells," I say, admiring his digging stick. "And I will need dinner for my mate. Will you show me how you hunt them?"
"It's easy," the tiny boy says, holding out his stick to me. "Come on."
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
AIDY
What a wonderful day. I'm overwhelmed in the best way by our welcome at the beach camp they call Icehome. I've met so many people, all friendly and open and happy. Everyone looks like they're thriving, and I can't tell the clones apart physically from the "natural" humans. It just tells me there's nothing to worry about when it comes to that, and I'm relieved.