He pondered the idea of a girl child, a daughter, and he smiled. “If it is a girl, then I will adore her.”
“She will be fierce and a dragon lady of the hunt,” Father pronounced. “After all, she will be three-quarters fae.”
Evander chuckled. “You do realize that little Serena is half unicorn, a quarter dragon and a quarter fae, and she looks like a fluttering butterfly. Magic doesn’t work in such a way; you do know that…”
Father looked at him, the expression a mixture of frustration and fondness. “Yes, son. I am aware that magic works in its own unique ways.”
“Of course.” It was something amazing to ponder, though.
What would their baby look like? Would he or she be small? Large? He was large, but Corbin was small. Corbin was green, but then again Cullen was purple and little Serena was pink and neither Hawk nor Cosmo were rocks, and yet they’d managed a little gargoyle.
Magic was an amazing thing.
And then there was Isabelle, Elliot’s sister, who was the absolute opposite of a rock. She was more like a flame—full of energy and lightness and in constant motion.
“Whatever she is, she’ll be amazing.” Father’s voice brooked no argument. “And we will all adore her or him or them.”
Evander blinked at his father. “Them?”
“Yes, son. You do realize your mate is one of triplets? That means that the chances of him giving birth to multiple children is increased.” Father watched him as if he’d lost his mind.
“Neither of his brothers had multiple children at once.”
He had the sinking suspicion he just cursed himself.
Kristofer snorted like he was in full hunt mode, but the sound was full of humor. “You are more fertile than their mates. Unicorns mate so rarely and produce few children. And the other one…”
He scoffed. “You have not met Hawk. He is… impressive. Bigger than Bron.”
His father’s eyebrows flew up. “That’s impressive, son. I’ve never met a dragon bigger than Bron.” He shrugged. “Then again, I’ve really never met another dragon besides your mate and his brothers. They’re rather tiny.”
He chuckled because Corbin would hate to be considered tiny as a dragon. However, it was rather true. He had seen the dragons flying outside the window of the house, and the dragonlands. Some of them were massive.
“This is true, but please don’t ever say it to him.”
Gregor grinned at him, teeth white in his bearded face. “It is hard to be the smallest. You may tell him I sympathize with him.”
“I will, brother, I will. Your hunt form is still terribly impressive, you know.”
Gregor studied his nails as if he were being modest. It was clearly an act. “So the ladies tell me, brother.”
That had him hooting. He grabbed a cookie off the platter of sweets. There were sandwiches and pigs in a blanket, which were an intriguing snack that he had learned to love. And he thought he spied pizza rolls on one platter. Cosmo’s idea of appropriate snacks was amusing, to say the least.
He wanted more information about the fae that had been burned, but so far, no one seemed to know anything. If they did, they weren’t talking. “I wonder if it would be valuable for me to come out into the Land of Summer and question some of the people that surround Calla at the Flower Mound.”
That made his father snort. “Those people. I swear they would look down their nose at you and say that you weren’t fit to be questioning them about anything.”
“But we need information, and I’m getting impatient, Father. I want this settled. I have a child or children on the way.”
“Trust in your brother and in the representative that Calla sent off to the Court of Bells. If there’s information to be found about this woman that your dragon-fae partner immolated, they will have it.” Father reached over and clapped his shoulder. “I know you wish to hunt. It is our job and our pleasure, but there is no sense in flying off in all directions.”
“I suppose not.” He looked past his father toward the house, making sure no one was watching them from the windows. He blinked because he saw his wolf coming toward them. Obviously, she could walk out into the Land of Summer. What concerned him was the little boulder rolling along next to his wolf friend.
“I think we’re about to be beset by Cosmo’s Elliot. He can smell snacks miles away. And I think he quite likes you, Father.”
His father let out a big booming laugh and stood, moving away from the table, opening his arms toward where Elliot was rolling along, gathering great speed. “Come to me, my little gargoyle baby,” he said. “I’m right here.”
A pleased sound rumbled across the meadow they sat in, and Elliot rolled right up to his father and then popped out of his boulder-rock form to hop into the air so his father could catch him.
