I look up at the hatchlings, still fighting their way through the wind. I look at the four men around me, each one frustrating but perfect, and my answer is easy.
“I think…” I say slowly. “I think whenever would be good, if I get to raise them with you four.”
Alaric whoops and flips over, rolling onto his back. “Yes!”
Gareth grins, teeth bright. “We’d try to be good fathers.”
Lucien raises his hand. “We’d get them their first swords. And leather armor in tiny sizes.”
Sevrin just squeezes my thigh. “Whenever you want, Harper.”
Gareth leans in, voice conspiratorial. “You know, we could have, like, a whole army of little monsters.”
“An army would be nice,” Sevrin says thoughtfully.
“So when should we start trying to build this army?” Alaric asks.
My heart beats faster. “Actually–”
“I think soon,” Lucien says. “As soon as possible.”
“Or maybe in the summer,” Gareth offers. “I’ve heard summer babies are stronger.”
“No, winter babies are heartier," Sevrin argues.
I bite my lip, wondering if now is the right time.
“There have been twins in our family line in the past,” Alaric says, almost like he’s being helpful.
“Twins would… be a lot,” Gareth remarks dryly.
I draw my shoulders back. “Well, I think we should have a baby maybe six or seven months from now.”
Lucien laughs. “Then you’d have to be pregnant right now.”
“Yeah,” I offer softly.
The silence is complete. Even the dragons stop moving.
Then Lucien yelps and gently tackles me backward, wrapping me in his arms. Gareth whoops, and Alaric laughs so hard he nearly chokes. Sevrin just buries his face in my shoulder and breathes, like he can’t get enough of me.
There are a lot of wet eyes, but it’s the good kind.
“A baby,” Gareth whispers, touching my stomach.
“How long have you known?” Alaric asks, brushing his eyes.
I hesitate, then decide to be honest. “I’ve suspected for a few weeks, but I was sure of it today.”
“Boy or girl, I’ll be happy,” Lucien says, touching my stomach too. “I just want them to be healthy”
“Oh, they’ll be healthy. We’ll make sure of it by catering to Harper’s every need,” Sevrin says nodding his head, then kissing me gently.
I smile. “Are you sure you guys are going to enjoy it? You’ve been feeling sorry for Ebron for a while.”
“‘Sorry’ might not be the right word…” Lucien begins.
“I think ‘jealous’ is more accurate,” Alaric confirms.
