I sighed, walking our little huddle away from the door and over to the fireplace, to the armchair where I'd first seen my mate. I drew them down to sit in my lap, taking turns kissing each of them on the temple, rewarded with two sighs.
"They asked a lot of questions I don't have the answers to. She's only a baby, she won't present a scent for years yet, if she is an omega. And we don't know her lifespan. That sort of thing."
"Why should they need to know her lifespan?!" Brigid cried out, and Tylane joined her in a quick yelp that we both hurried to soothe.
"They don't. Perhaps they just think it will help to define her in their mind. You understand why they're shocked," I reminded her.
She was quiet for a moment, eyes fixed with wonder and worry on Tylane, who'd seemed to take the opportunity of the warmth of the fire and our lowered voices to settle back into sleep. She was already almost a month old. It had been a month without sleep, a month of wonder, of scrambling for answers to questions we hadn't anticipated. A month of a love that left me breathless with a little daughter who'd grown and stretched and screamed and had left her mark in a number of ways on my heart…and my plaid. A family plaid was not a good choice for a baby's blanket.
"I understand their shock enough to fear it," Brigid said softly, searching my face.
"I don't think you need to fear yet," I assured her, rocking my girls in my arms slightly. "Mairwen and Ronson did seem to help, as did making sure the omegas were in attendance. The young couples looked pleased with the idea of mating."
Brigid smiled at that. "The ladies want wings. They want to fly too."
"And the young men in love want their omegas to remain at their sides for a lifetime," I said.
Brigid looked up at that, and there was all the warmth I could hope for in her gaze.
My father had met my mother quite late in life. Perhaps that was part of why he'd been so grateful for her, so determined to enjoy every moment. I'd been outrageously lucky to find Brigid so young. We'd have decade after decade together. We'd have as many children as Brigid might wish for. If our children were as lucky as us, we'd meet grandchildren and great-grandchildren for years to come.
"I didn't change all their minds in one day," I admitted.
"You couldn't have," Brigid said easily, and her eyes blinked slowly. She was tired. Tylane was sleeping now, but it wouldn't last long. I ought to get them both up to bed.
"There's something else," I said instead, and winced. Now wasn't the time. Brigid slipped a hand out from under Tylane and hummed in question, stroking curls back out of my eyes. "The men investigating think the cottage fire wasn't an accident."
"Local boys, I've guessed," Brigid murmured. "Using the cottage for mischief or some like."
"They found oil on some of the high beams that didn't catch."
Brigid's eyes widened slightly, her stroking palm pausing against my cheek. "Oh. Then it was…very intentional."
I frowned, immediately regretting bringing this news up. "I've spoken to all the surrounding local farms, and they're more concerned about you and your property. I don't think you've any resentments from them to worry over. And the men investigating are putting together a record of everyone who was seen passing remotely near the cottage."
Brigid sighed and curled into me, and I stamped down the irrational triumph blazing in my chest.
"I almost hope we don't discover who's responsible," Brigid said.
I frowned. "Why not?"
"Things are tense enough as it is. If a beta is responsible, we can't overlook the defiance. It'll have to be answered with punishment, but retaliation may just burn resentments hotter."
I might've been inclined to agree with Brigid. It would at least allow for a false peace if we could ignore the crime. But I had my suspicions already as to the culprit, and if I was right, there was no question of a pardon.
"One day at a time," I said, staring down into our daughter's beautiful face, smiling as it scrunched and relaxed.
The truth was, if things in Grave Hills grew dire, if dragonkin couldn't accept Tylane, then Brigid and I would leave. Seamus would help us, and if Mairwen and Ronson continued to win over Bleake Isle, we'd have somewhere to go. But a divide in dragonkin, one that crossed territories, would foster even more strife in the long run. Bleake Isle might offer somewhere for women to go to, but the other territories would resent the loss of their omegas if it came to it. We needed to be united if we were going to successfully move forward.
I wanted to serve my people. I wanted to draw dragonkin forward into the future, a future where our women didn't flee, but I would never risk my family.
"Are you very tired?" Brigid asked, her voice turning soft and syrupy slow.
"No more than you, I'm certain."
"Do you think you can manage it?" she asked, and I looked down to find her eyelids drooping. "Carrying us both up to bed?"
I snorted at that and shifted my mate in my arms. Tylane was a feather of an addition, and it troubled me not at all to holdBrigid, even when she was just to the point of giving birth. I proved as much by rising with them cradled, babe atop mother, and carried them with the utmost gentleness up the stairs to our room. Brigid was fast asleep before I reached the bed.
