Stallion Mage: A Horse Shifter Mpreg Romance (COMPLETE)

A Mage's Destiny

Alvarr pinched his eyes closed and breathed through his mouth as his stomach squeezed tight again. It wasn't a painful feeling, but the intensity made it impossible to think of anything other than what was happening to his body.

"I don't want to leave you," Laren was saying.

Alvarr twisted his neck to look back. The leader stood just inside the wooded area, as though he could not take a step outside it. "If I come with you, the tribe will be left without a leader."

The mage knew Laren probably felt the boundary of the territory, the ancient protection that the first stallion leader had put on his tribe. "Do what you must," he said, distracted. "I will do what I must," Alvarr said. His attention was only halfway on parting from his mate. Much more urgent was the state of his body.

Mare-Mother, I need help. Alvarr sent the thought into the earth, hoping that it would reach the mares, somehow. We need help. The mage stumbled forward a few steps.

"Wait! How will you find them?" Laren asked. "I have to know that you'll be all right!"

The mage could tell no lies, especially not to his leader and mate. "I don't know," he said, head bowing down. His horn pointed ahead into the unknown. "I just have to trust Nature to guide me." Alvarr turned to face his mate, but didn't dare move closer, for fear Laren would try to convince him to stay. And that would mean certain death.

"I hope I see you again." And with that, Alvarr was driven on, stumbling across the endless field of snow.

It was a long time before he had to stop, but finally, his body squeezed again, making him tremble and pant. Saliva dripped from his mouth. How long will this go on?

He wasn't sure, but he thought he was made to stop more and more often. In a panic, he looked around him. There was nothing for him here, nothing for him behind him or ahead. He could no longer see the camp. Hold on, daughter, he thought to his foal. I will save us.

The next time he was made to stop, Alvarr started to feel pain. Not just the squeezing pressure from before, but a sharp, sickening pain that radiated from his belly. He gasped and gagged as it hit. His head down, he trembled and sweated through it. Blood surged so hard that he could hear its uneven rhythm in his own ears.

It grew louder and louder, and he shook his head, though it made him dizzy. He couldn't clear the sound. It's not really there, he told himself. The foal is coming, and it's making me see and hear things that do not exist.

Vibrations shook the ground, and a loud cry rang through the air. "Alvarr!"

The mage looked back, only to see his mate charging toward him at top speed. Not only that, but a path cut through the snow where he had been, right down to the ground. How did that get there?

"Alvarr..." Laren panted. "I let the Elders know... you had... gone..."

"But the tribe-"

"The tribe is in disarray, whether I am there or not," the leader said. He turned in the direction Alvarr had been heading. "Let's just go," he said quietly.

"Truly?" Alvarr was still not sure if this version of Laren was real or the work of his feverish imagination. He didn't suppose it mattered.

"Have you any idea how to find the mares?"

Alvarr shook his mane and regretted it because of the resulting dizziness. "I just know I must go on."

"Whatever happens, I will be with you," his mate said. "I want to see the foal born. I... want to meet her." He leaned against the mage.