Claws swiped dangerously close to his face, making the pale haired velassi jerk back from the bedside as his mate howled.

“I will, love, just calm down.”

Renzo winced at the sound of cloth tearing as deceptively fragile fingers fluttered to the bed and clawed at the covers. Gently he rested his hands upon his mate’s stomach, feeling for the child who was demanding entrance into the world. He cursed softly as Este pulled away from him, baring shockingly white fangs.

“Don’t touch it!” He hissed.

Renzo sighed, brushing his long hair back from his face irritably. He’d been in the middle of his waking routine when his mate’s screams had brought him scurrying.

“I have to touch it to get it out.” He pointed out patiently.

“Stay away from me!” Este shrieked in reply.

His fist clenched as he struggled to remain calm in the face of the irrational creature that had taken the place of his normally docile mate. “You want me to take it out don’t you?”

Brown eyes, so dark against the pale face, narrowed. “You’ve done enough to me! The last time you came near me you put it in there!”

“Then how will you get it out?” He asked.

Este’s face contorted in pain though his lips thinned, struggling to hold back the scream. Renzo sat at his side, brushing the black hair away from his trembling mate’s face.

“I’ll get it out myself.” Este cried stubbornly, his voice cracking in fear.

He’d never seen his mate cry before and Renzo froze, unsure of how to handle it. Adults weren’t supposed to cry and certainly not one under his care. Sighing heavily he stroked his lover’s hair, piercing himself with each tremor. He struggled to remember what his sire had told him he must do. At the time it had seemed so simple but now he was terribly unsure.

Resting a hand over his mate’s eyes he bent down. “Sleep, love.” He whispered. His breath disturbed the fine hairs that hung about his mate’s cheek and he watched them flutter up and back down with a strange fascination even as he felt Este’s lashes trembled against the palm of his hand before they finally lay still.

Letting his hand fall away he stared at his mate’s sleeping form. A small smile curled across his lips and he bent down, pressing his lips to Este’s ravaged ones. They were dry and cracked under his, torn and chewed as his mate became a little more neurotic with every passing night. Pulling back he stood, turning his attention to the cause of his mate’s misery.

Unconsciously he rubbed his palms against his pants. He’d never felt so unsure of himself in his life and it grated on him. Breathing deeply he reached out, settling his hands upon his mate’s stomach. Closing his eyes he reached out, feeling for the life that struggled frantically to be free of its too small prison.

Slowly he moved his hands over his mate’s stomach, feeling for their child. When he sensed a frenzied flurry of movement his eyes opened and he stiffened.

“Too high, little one.” He hissed, suddenly understanding the child’s desperation to be born so soon.

Somehow the child had burrowed its way upwards rather than staying low where there was more room. Trapped beneath Este’s ribs Renzo sensed their son’s struggles against the bone that hampered his movement. He pulled back to steady his hands and find a measure of control. He had hoped that it had just been a moment of aggravation, for such false birth signs were common in the final few months. However the child could not stay where it was for it would be too easy for it, in its confusion, to keep moving upwards, seeking his mate’s heart where the blood was most plentiful.

He bent, pressing his ear against his mate’s stomach. “Come now, childling.” He murmured, feeling the pause in motion as his son recognized his voice. “Come down here.”

He pushed firmly as his sire had shown him when he was younger, drawing his finger downwards from his mate’s chest. Reaching his navel he stopped and repeated the motion over and over again, trying to show the child the path. Beneath his hands all motion had stopped. Pausing he drummed his fingers, smiling as that got a response. He winced at the sound of muscle and flesh tearing as the child struggled to turn but the smile soon faded as the child continued to thrash but moved no closer to where he tapped.

“Come on, little one.” He pleaded but no matter his urging his son would not or could not move from where he was lodged.

Cursing he rose, glancing at his mate’s pale face. Closing his eyes against the worry he placed his hand over the spot where his child rested. Slightly below that he steeled his nerve and then drove his fingers into the swollen flesh.

Mind suppression had never been one of his strongest powers and he struggled to ignore the way his mate’s face contorted in pain even though he still slept. He concentrated instead on parting his lover’s flesh until he could slip his hand within him. He fought back the nausea as he reached farther, feeling for something solid beneath the torn flesh.

Something struck his hand, and he grabbed it as it tried to pull away. Beneath his free hand he felt a new flurry of activity and he tightened his grip, struggling to hold onto the child that tried to twist out of his grasp. Bright plain blossomed in his hand as fangs or claws dug into him and he gritted his teeth as the child managed to escape from his grasp.

“Little fighter aren’t you?” He grumbled as he found a better handhold, practically jerking the child down from where it had managed to trap itself.

He was forced to widen the wound to pull his prize free and he was so irritated by the constant bites and scratches he was receiving that he hadn’t even realized he’d managed to pull his son free until wide golden eyes opened and blinked up at him.

Instinctively he righted the child, cradling its head in his hand. He watched in sudden fascination as his son stared up at him, eyes moving furiously as he studied him. The tiny mouth opened, showing small white fangs that his son had not yet learned to retract, and released a staggering yowl.

Laughing as tiny fists shook at the world he cradled his son to him, amazed at how small the child was. He knew he was a big man, bigger than nearly any of his own race, but this little being that beat upon his chest made him feel positively colossal.

“Hey now, stop that.” He murmured, pulling the beating fists away from him.

His son suddenly stopped crying, gripping his finger in his tiny hands and staring at it in fascination.

On the bed Este shifted and Renzo immediately turned his attention to his bleeding mate.

Setting the child aside he carefully extracted his hand from his son’s grasp and turned his attention to the wound he had made. Naturally it was deep and it bled freely. Normally such a wound would have healed on its own but, when with child, his kind’s ability to heal themselves faded for their child needed time to feed from the small wounds they made within without them healing too quickly.

Failing to have brought anything with him when he’d come running to his mate’s cries Renzo sighed and sacrificed their bedding. Tearing the cloth he pressed it to the wound, trying to clean it as best he could. Pressing down upon the bleeding area he bit himself, carefully smearing his own blood over the sliced edges where it could work to restore the rendered flesh.

Left alone in the foreign world his son began to shriek and he spared a moment to brush his hand through the blood soaked hair. Even with its gory covering he could tell the strands matched Este’s for darkness and it made him smile. The child quieted, staring up at him plaintively as though trying to make him understand his son’s indignation at having been torn from his warm home and brought into this too light, too cold world.

Seeing that the wound was healing he tied the torn cloth to his mate’s stomach, making sure it was held on tightly. Sitting back and leaning his temple upon the wooden post of their bed he took a moment to collect himself. Este had dropped off into true sleep, his face peaceful as his body struggled to right itself from the trauma. At his side their son squalled, determined to make each cry louder than the last.

Laughing softly he gathered the child and carried him out into the bathing room. The water he had used to fill the basin before his mate had started screaming was freezing cold now and he knew better than to submerge the child into it. Though their kind as a rule was not affected by cold or heat he knew that the very young needed to be treated as human young needed to be treated.

Setting his son in an empty basket next to the basin he struck a fire. Carefully placing a pot of water atop the flame he lifted the child, studying him as the water heated. The child seemed fascinated with the fire and reached out towards it plaintively, tiny fingers opening and closing. Golden eyes widened at the movement and Renzo laughed as the child brought his hands to his face and watched in enthrallment as he repeated the act.

“The world is full of wonders, yes?” He teased.

His son stared up at him solemnly.

He dipped his fingers in the water, waiting until it was warm before pulling the pot from the flames. Pouring it into the basin he hesitated and added a bit of colder water just in case.

“In you go now.” He said, lifting his son and depositing him into the basin.

He supported his son’s back as he washed his mate’s blood from the pale skin. Black hair appeared, curling slightly in the fire’s heat as it dried. As he scrubbed the blood from his bare chest his son laughed and slapped at the water, enjoying how it sloshed about. The laugh thrilled him and he lifted the child up, laughing as well as his son reached down for him and screeched, the smile upon his small face brilliant.

Careful to drown the flames he bounced his son as he carried him back to the bedroom where his mate still slept. Laying the child upon Este’s chest he climbed up beside them, pressed against his lover’s side as their son nuzzled his mate and fed.

“Wake up.” He whispered, teasing his mate’s shoulder with his fangs.

He felt Este stir and dark eyes opened slightly. They were unfocused and distant, telling him of his mate’s need for sleep.

“Look, love. Look what you’ve given us.” He murmured, drawing his mate’s attention to the child who tilted his head up to consider his father.

Este smiled wanly and Renzo had to help him lift a shaking arm so that he could rest his hand upon their son’s back.

His mate’s lips moved and Renzo had to leaned towards him to hear his question. “Name?”

“It’s the father’s right to name his first son.” He reminded.

Este smiled and Renzo saw him struggling to gather his strength. “I want to call him Adrian.”

Feeling somewhat self conscious Renzo reached out to brush his fingers over the crown of dark hair. “Why Adrian?”

Este’s eyes softened. “Because he reminds me of home. Of when I lived by the Adriatic Sea felt before my parents returned to the city.”

Renzo shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

Este reached out and he took his hand in his. “Home is warm and caring. It is family. When we went back to the city I felt like I lost those things when people came to interfere with my life and upbringing.”

Glancing down at the fingers entwined with his Renzo sighed. “Would you change it if you could? If there was a way would you take your family back there where you could have chosen your own mate rather than having the council pair you with me?”

Hair hissed against cloth as Este shook his head. “Once I might have but not anymore. I’ve found a new home.”

Smiling Renzo drew his mate and their son into his arms. “I’ve never really had a family. My parents staid together because they had to raise me. Once I was an adult they dissolved their partnership and took other mates. You’re the only family I’ve ever had.” He flushed slightly, feeling the fool for speaking his mind so but Este only smiled.

“This is our home.” He stated, his voice firm even as his eyes threatened to close in exhaustion.

“Yes,” Renzo agreed, stroking their sleeping son’s back, “It will always be our home.”

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