“Sleeping peacefully. Apparently, he possesses considerably better stamina than the other two,” I reply with an arched eyebrow that conveys exactly what kind of stamina I’m referencing.
“That makes perfect sense,” Klauth nods approvingly. “Gargoyles are notably sturdy creatures by nature.”
He turns his crimson-flecked gaze back to study Leander and Callan with ancient wisdom. “Mina has apparently decided it was time to bless you both with hatchlings of your own. As you can observe, our existing children have stationed themselves as miniature sentinels.” With characteristic fastidiousness, he picks an imaginary speck of lint from his perfectly pressed shirt.
“Try approaching her,” I suggest encouragingly. “Mina might allow you close since you’re the fathers of the lives she’s protecting.”
“I’ll attempt it,” Callan says with visible determination, turning to walk slowly toward Mina’s imposing form. “Hello, children. I just want to check on your mother, if that’s acceptable to you.” He keeps both hands raised in a gesture of peaceful intent as he moves closer to the protective circle.
Allister turns his head with a soft, warning rumble, but before anyone can react, Thorne launches herself at him with a fierce growl. She takes him to the ground with surprising force, clacking her jaws threateningly until he backs away from their mother.
It’s only then that I notice Thorne has actually injured Allister—a thin line of scales along his flank shows bright scratches. His scales are apparently softer than his sisters’, making him more vulnerable to their protective aggression.
Klauth notices the wound simultaneously, his eyes widening with surprise as he stares at the evidence of his son’s physical vulnerability.
Mina rumbles softly to her assembled hatchlings, nuzzling each one with maternal affection before turning her attention to Callan. She uses her powerful tail to gently push him closer to her distended stomach, positioning him exactly where she wants him. She rumbles again, then looks directly at Thauglor with unmistakable communication.
“She’s inviting you to feel her stomach,” Thauglor translates with a warm smile. “You as well, Leander.”
Both men approach with reverent care, placing their hands on the warm scales where Mina has directed them. The expressions of wonder that cross their faces as they make contact with their developing children are absolutely priceless.
“I think I can actually feel an egg,” Leander whispers, his voice thick with emotion and his smile stretching from ear to ear.
The sight of my dear friends experiencing this profound moment fills my chest with such satisfaction that I feel tears threatening my own eyes. This is exactly why every moment of planning and orchestration was worthwhile.
Moving slowly and carefully, I approach Mina’s massive head and reach out to touch the familiar scales of her face. “Are you hungry yet, my love? One blink for yes, two for no.” I watch the large golden orb of her eye intently. She blinks twice, and I nod my understanding.
Settling against Mina’s warm bulk, I observe two of the three expectant fathers as they touch what could possibly be their first eggs. The warmth radiating from her massive form seeps into my bones, reminding me of countless nights when I’ve found comfort against her side during difficult times.
Watching Leander’s trembling hands rest against Mina’s scaled belly, seeing the wonder and disbelief warring across his features, brings back memories of when I first felt our own children growing within her. The awe never diminishes—if anything, it grows stronger with each new life we welcome into our family.
Callan’s quiet tears of joy mirror the emotions flooding through me. These men have waited with such patience, such unwavering hope, through years of watching others experiencethe miracle of parenthood. They’ve loved our existing children as their own, supported every family decision, and never once complained about the timing of their own dreams.
“Lee,” I call softly, and when he looks up at me with those tear-bright eyes, I continue, “remember when you told me years ago that you weren’t sure if you’d ever be worthy of fatherhood? Look at you now.”
His answering smile is radiant, transforming his entire face with pure happiness. “I can barely believe it’s real.”
“Callan,” I address my other friend, whose usual composure has completely dissolved into raw emotion, “think of all the late nights you’ve spent helping with homework, all the scraped knees you’ve bandaged, all the bedtime stories you’ve read. You’ve been practicing for this your whole life.”
The gratitude in his expression makes my throat tight with emotion. These aren’t just my friends—they’re the brothers I chose, the men who’ve helped me raise a generation of children with patience and love.
Our existing children sense the emotional weight of the moment too. Azalea pauses in her grooming of Mina’s scales to look over at me, her glowing eyes soft with understanding that goes beyond her years. Belladonna meows quietly, a sound of contentment that speaks to the safety and love permeating our family space.
Even Raven, typically so serious and protective, allows a gentle rumble to escape her throat as she watches the expectant fathers. Her fierce loyalty extends not just to Mina, but to the joy of those she considers family.
Thorne, still perched regally on Mina’s flank, turns her small head to study Leander and Callan with curious interest. Her protective aggression has transformed into something softer—an acceptance of these men as part of the expanding circle of those worthy of guarding.
“This is what we’ve built together,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone else, but loud enough that my friends can hear. “Not just a nest or a territory, but something that grows stronger with every heart we welcome, every dream we fulfill.”
The weight of that truth settles over me like a warm blanket. We’ve created something extraordinary here—a family that transcends traditional boundaries, that finds joy in each other’s happiness, that makes room for every form of love and every type of dream.
Mina’s golden eye fixes on me with an expression I recognize immediately—the look she gives me when she knows I’m overwhelmed by the depth of what we’ve accomplished together. Her massive head shifts slightly, nudging against my shoulder in the same gentle way she’s comforted me through every challenge we’ve faced.
“I love you all so much,” I whisper, the words encompassing not just Mina, but every soul gathered in this chamber. “Every single one of you.”
These moments of pure joy and wonder make all the months of careful planning absolutely worthwhile. Seeing the expressions of overwhelming happiness on the faces of two of my closest friends validates every risk taken, every careful surveillance mission, every moment of romantic conspiracy.
This is what family means—creating opportunities for those you love to experience the deepest joys life offers. It means putting others’ dreams ahead of your own immediate desires, working together to build something bigger than any individual happiness.
