Hi, all! Annabelle Hawthorne here and I'm back at it again with some more monster girls and chaos!
New reader? Don't be shy, we've got a couple million words in this universe you can just skip over, I'm sure you won't miss much. To sum up, a guy inherited a magical home, got a piece of his soul sucked out through his dick by a nymph, and now is dealing with a dangerous goblin pregnancy 117 chapters and 3 spin-offs later.
If only Bridgerton would be this edgy, am I right?
Returning reader? Welcome back! I'm still taking some extra time for myself and it's been a minor godsend. Not only have I gotten some R&R, but I've also dealt with the typical crap life throws at you (like car repairs, etc) and actually had time to deal with those as well! I try to stick to the schedule in my bio, so feel free to check there if you're wondering when that next chapter will hit.
But seriously, if you're still around, thank you so, so much from the bottom of my heart. The Imposter Syndrome has been very real of late, so I am extremely grateful for those of you who continue to show up and keep spreading the word about this story. So many people have fallen in love with the Radley house, and it's been such an amazing journey to get to where the story is today. I couldn't have done it without you.
I also couldn't do this without my beta team! Thanks to the Mikes, the Pastor, the Dragon, as well as Lit's own TJ Skywind for helping out. While I promise to give you my best, I'm only one person. With their help, I can actually guarantee some
Quality Assurance
Mike stood outside the small, thatched yurt that the centaurs used as their infirmary. Nearby, Kisa paced along the top of a fence that created a small pen for sheep and pigs. A pair of centaurs stood outside the yurt, ready to run a message or retrieve supplies.
"She will be okay, Mike Radley." Death stood to Mike's left, holding a cup of tea in both hands. He had seen Mike carrying Tink and had followed them to the centaur village.
Cecilia hovered nearby as well, and Mike had fought the urge numerous times to tell them both to go away. There was a very real fear that Cecilia may open her mouth and start singing, or perhaps Death would suddenly offer his condolences. Their presence would have no effect on whatever actually happened, a fact that he told himself over and over again.
Yuki had heard the commotion and tried to come with them, but he had told her to stay behind in case Grace got out of bed. This was stressful enough. He didn't need to worry about his daughter waking up to an empty home.
Zel stepped through the flap of the yurt and sighed. "She's okay."
Mike nodded, his eyes brimming with tears he hadn't known were there. He wiped them away. "Can I go see her?"
"You could, but she's resting comfortably now. She needs her sleep and you might wake her." Zel walked toward him, the flap of the yurt parting as Kisa slipped inside. "But we should talk."
Mike nodded. Zel led him away from the yurt a bit, then turned to face him. She opened her mouth to say something, then looked over his shoulder and paused.
The Caretaker turned to see that Death and Cecilia were both standing right behind him. He just shrugged. "It's not like whatever you tell me will remain a secret," he said.
"That's fair." Zel yawned and pulled a small notebook from a bag around her waist. She flipped it open and thumbed through the pages. "I've been tracking the extraordinary events surrounding Tink's pregnancy. Everything goes in here, including signs of aging."
"I'm aware," Mike said. Zel had been meticulous about everything in regards to Tink. The centaur's primary fear at first had centered around the goblin's diminutive size, coupled with the unknown genetics of the baby. Goblins typically gave birth to multiples, but the half-human baby developing in Tink's womb had taken up all the available space already.
"So I've been tracking her age. Tink's actual age is elderly by human standards. We aren't even certain how long goblins can live due to the often violent conditions they are usually required to survive. Due to her own version of the nymph's blessing, her body has never aged, but the baby is somehow draining that magic from her. When you first brought Tink to me with this pregnancy, she had all the 'human' hallmarks of a woman in her mid-twenties." Zel found the page she wanted and held the book open for Mike. "As of today, based on human biology, I would clock her as a woman in her mid-to-late forties."
"Women in their forties have babies, though." Mike looked at the chart Zel had made, but his vision was too blurry.
"You're right, they do. But look at the progression." Zel took the book back and pointed at the data points. "When I add in today's incident, what shape does this line make?"
"A curve." Mike already saw where this was going. "She's aging at an accelerating rate."
Zel nodded. "Once the magic of the blessing is gone, I can only assume the pregnancy will drain her of her actual lifeforce. Goblins only have a four to five month pregnancy, and give birth to litters. But we know she's only carrying one child, and it is much larger than a goblin. If she were to give birth soon, it's likely she would do so as a fifty or sixty year old. But we have no idea how far along she actually is."
Mike scowled. "Tink keeps telling me that the baby is still growing."
The centaur sighed. "She tells me the same thing. Mike, if she carries this baby to a human term of nine months, we have to assume she will present as a two-hundred year old woman. And humans don't live--"
"I get it." Mike ran his fingers through his hair. "Fuck," he whispered.
"Yeah." Zel closed her book and put it away. "We need to figure out how to help her, and soon."
Mike stared at the ground, his thoughts caught in a whirlwind of emotions. What could he even do? Was there anyone who could help him? How could he--
"Hey." Zel grabbed Mike by the hand and he felt the world snap back into focus. "We can solve this together. Let's think about the things we can do right now to help."
"Right. Um..." Mike looked up into Zel's eyes. They seemed to sparkle, reflecting the light of nearby torches. The centaur was clearly concerned, but she was also full of hope. He took a deep breath, drawing strength from her. "Our main problem is the deadline. How long do you think she has?"