lazy to work. My mom was one of them, though she got pregnant because her birth control implant malfunctioned. Raising a baby can be dangerous on Mars, and she didn’t have the money to burn anymore after she moved our family to Earth, right after I was born. It’s more expensive there, but much safer.
“My father left us within a matter of weeks. He had nothing to do with me for years, until he somehow found out about my mom’s death four years ago. Then he wanted money from her estate, claiming they were legally married—which was a lie; they were never married. And she was broke by the time she’d died. She’d been injured and couldn’t work for the last year of her life. Her medical bills ate through her savings. When my father investigated her finances, he discovered that I’d been supporting her. The jerk actually tracked me down to demand that I do the same for him…that I pay his bills. It was the first time I’d ever seen or spoken to him. I told him to fuck off. I don’t owe him anything.”
Roth growled low, anger in his golden eyes. “He has no honor.”
“He doesn’t even know the meaning of the word. I think I imagined him while I was drugged because I thought I was going to die. He’s the sort who would try to profit off that by claiming to be my devoted father.” She rolled her eyes. “I made sure that wouldn’t happen. My death benefit payout will go to a charity for single mothers struggling to raise their children alone. I chose them to honor my mother. She raised me without any help from him.”
“He sounds like a bad male.”
“Yeah. He is. I’ve had to move twice because of him.”
Roth leaned in closer. “Has this male hurt you?”
“No. He’s just annoying. Sometimes he shows up to raise hell and demand money. He’s not as handsome or charming as he used to be. Women don’t take his crap anymore, and they’re smart enough not to give him access to their funds. Mostly he gets tossed out by them. He’s shown up on my doorstep demanding a place to live. Rather than keep fighting with him, I moved.”
Roth seemed to study her.
“He’d never dare hit me. I’d have him arrested if he did. Out of all his flaws—and there are many—beating on women isn’t one of them. My mom would have warned me if he’d been abusive. We were very close.”
“I’m sorry that you lost her.”
“Me too. She was a great mom. What about your parents?”
He backed away. “We weren’t close once I reached adulthood. They didn’t approve of my choice to leave our home planet to fight for others.”
“I’m sorry. My mom hated me leaving Earth on survey jobs, but she was proud of what I did. I miss her. Do you ever see your parents?”
Roth shook his head. “A visit would be unpleasant if we returned to the grouping of our births. Most feel resentment that we left. We were four strong males who would have made their lives easier by sharing the workload.”
“Would you have been unhappy if you’d stayed?”
“Very much so. I am not a farmer.”
“They should have understood that. I don’t have any children, but I know that if I ever do, I don’t want to stand in the way of them growing up to do what they love. I’d support their decisions.”
“I will do the same if I ever have cubs.”
She smiled. “Cubs?”
“It’s what we call our young. Our children are born in our battle forms, but within a year, they learn how to shift.”
“Do your women give birth to more than one cub at a time?”
“Sometimes there can be two or three, but one is most common.”
She studied his body. “I bet they’re big babies.”
He chuckled. “Our cubs are smaller at birth than human babies. That was a relief to hear for Gnaw’s mate, Darla, while she was pregnant.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Gnaw is one of the males in my grouping. He and Darla recently had two cubs. Darla is human.”
That information clicked in Vera’s head. Someone like her had mated—and had two babies—with a Veslor. She gently rubbed her hands on his chest again, thinking of the possibilities. He could become the father of her children.
He was physically attractive. He was certainly one of the best men she’d ever met. He was nothing like any of her jerk exes. She wanted a future with him. It didn’t matter