One of the blue-gray women spoke. “We can give you something for the agony.” I shook my head without thinking. Matros said I gave ‘these people’ too much credit. That was true to a small extent. This was more trust than I wanted to give. Practicality forced the issue. I already allowed them to put a creature over my facial wounds. I didn’t need more to worry about.

Beyond that, I didn’t want something that might interfere with the baby. Past even that, was pride. I can admit that. The Volardi were warriors. They weren’t a weak people. Again, I winced as my hand went to my stomach. I shifted my legs to find some combination that would give me less pain. The irony of trying to reduce my discomfort while refusing painkillers was obvious.

They wouldn’t understand but I did.

I was always the little guy. I tried working the farm, but I wasn’t good at it. Even my sister Becky was stronger than me. For just one time, I wanted to do something ‘big’ and maybe have bragging rights. Maybe it was foolish, but I wanted to make Matros proud. His Omega pushed out their child with nothing but will. I was Volardi royalty and that had to mean something. Right now, that meant I would endure this like the Royal Omega I was. Maybe on the next one…

Oh geez, there’s a thought.

No. Just concentrate on this one.

Next time, I’d leave the Volardi near masturbatory love for agony and take the painkiller. For now, I wanted my first to be natural.

Says the man squeezing a kid out… there.

The water sloshed as I saw a gray slug in the water. I instinctively jerked away but one Sammen picked it up. “Good. The first stage is done.” She picked it up, and it wiggled in her webbed fingers. “They fall out when it’s time. You’re entering the second.”

Matros watched with a thinned expression.

I was about to ask what ‘second stage’ meant and I got my answer as my insides twisted. They probably really didn’t twist, but it sure felt like it. Although, with alien technology, alien bioscience, and alien everything, I wasn’t so sure. Visualizations of my inner organs being twisted like a wet towel radiated out. From the stabbing pain, I’m sure whoever was doing the twisting would grow to be as strong as Matros.

I don’t know if I would’ve had the strength had I not been semi-emerged in water, I leaned forward and splashed the floor. I almost mouthed a ‘sorry’ and then decided that aquatic people probably didn’t care.

Probably best, talking around this tube is annoying.

His voice was low. “Some pain is expected.”

“No,” I said as the tube deflated. “Really?”