If not…we have to make major changes.
Mhal shifts into his two-legged form and enters the hut. He gazes around us, and I know he is seeing it as I'm seeing it. You are not happy with our nest, he says thoughtfully.
"I am happy. I'm happy with things as they are. But if we want more…"
I understand. He picks up the plastic bucket I use to keep my boiled water in and studies the contents. Dakh and his mate had clean, fresh water. All they could want. We do not have this.
"The fort also has a doctor," I point out softly, and I send him a mental image of Melina. "If we have a baby, I want a doctor to be there. It's dangerous otherwise."
And would you like for me to give you a child, my mate? Mhal's thoughts flare with lust. He moves toward me, wrapping his arms around my body and tucking me against him. I press against his chest, loving how sheltered I feel when he cups the back of my head and holds me close.
"I know you want one," I whisper. "I'm just trying to switch my head from the present to the future. I have a hard time seeing it sometimes." I slide my arms around his waist, his solid body warm against mine. "It's funny, but one of the common things back in the day was when you went on a job interview, they'd ask you 'where do you see yourself in five years?' It was meant to get you thinking about the future. My dad used to say it sarcastically all the time in the After. Like, he would gesture at our surroundings and say, 'Where do you see yourself in five years?' as if the world was playing the biggest joke on him. I think about that sometimes. Maybe it's why I have a hard time seeing ahead."
Where do you see yourself in five years, then? Mhal asks me. Still cradling my head, he tilts me so my neck is exposed, then leans in and presses kisses there, making love to my throat in a way that makes me shiver with need. Share with me what you think your life will be like. I want to see.
I drift in my thoughts, musing. Where do I see myself in five years? It's an excellent question. I play with the idea in my head, imagining where I'd like to be. I imagine myself in my ideal place, living my ideal life. I picture…a farm. A place with a vegetable patch for food, trees for shade, and greenery as far as the eye can see. A well for fresh water. Fresh, open air. I don't picture the metal-covered cement “safe” houses of Fort Dallas. I don't picture anything Fort Dallas, actually. I picture myself growing my own vegetables, wearing clothes that I've made…with my mate at my side.
If we had a little farm, Mhal could protect us. He could keep his territory safe from other drakoni who might wander near and flame things. We wouldn't need to be hunkered down in a fort. We'd just need to be ourselves.
We?
I realize I'm picturing us with children. That when I tend to my vegetables, Mhal and our children are there with me. We're a happy little family, quiet and cozy and tucked away from everyone else. Taking things one day at a time, but…free. Happy.
I guess I do want kids. I just don't want the version of the future that Azar offers. I feel guilty for even realizing that my future doesn't involve helping out others or taking care of those in need at the fort. I just want simplicity. I want quiet.
I want Mhal and a family, and a little place to call our own.
Mhal kisses my neck again, his teeth lightly scraping over my skin in a way that sends goosebumps of need over my body. We do not have to take anything Azar offers, he tells me. We can make the future our own. We do not need to go back to the fort. We need never go back. I will keep you safe.
I pull at the laces on my dress, undoing the drawstring that holds the simple garment to my breasts. What about the Rift? What about Rachel's warning?
Let someone else take on the problems of the world, Mhal tells me. He moves lower, cupping one of my breasts and feeding it to his lips. I gasp at the bolt of pleasure that flares through my body, my arms going around him and holding him against me as he teases my nipple with his tongue. God, his mouth feels good. I moan as he licks one peak to stiffness, and then moves to the other, his thumb caressing the abandoned breast. You and I will forge our own path and we will not need anyone else.