Inside the house, I heard Uncle Nero call out, "Okay, I know not everyone's lived in a human city before, but they're fated mates and their names areFarleyandQuinn? Seriously?Anybody?"
19
Farley
A month later,it became quite clear that there was not a birth but an egg laying in our future.
The urge to nest was overwhelming. My brain didn't allow me to think of anything except gathering the necessary materials and creating a comfortable space for the egg.
Oh, and there was one more problem.
The egg was going to be fucking massive.
It grew faster than either of us expected. By the time four weeks had passed, my stomach looked like I'd swallowed a bowling ball. But aside from the discomfort, I was surprised at how easily the instinct to nest came to me, like the ancient wisdom of all my bird ancestors took over.
Quinn, bless his heart, was trying his damned hardest to accommodate my every want and need. It wasn't just him helping out, either. I was eternally grateful to his family for building us a private cabin of our own, like Zak and Kamari had, so that I could lay my egg and hatch it in peace. Plus it gave us a home to raise our baby in.
I don't know what I'd done to deserve it, but I really lucked out when fate matched me to Quinn.
I was in the middle of arranging pillows and blankets when an uncomfortable strain made me double over. I cursed loudly, gripping the wood bedframe so hard that I was afraid I was going to break it.
"Farley!" Quinn called as he ran in.
I hissed through my teeth. "I'm fine. It'll pass."
But Quinn never left me when the contractions had me in their claws. He rubbed my back soothingly, focusing on my lower back where it always hurt the most. When the wave passed, I let out a heavy sigh.
"Thanks," I said, wiping the sweat off my forehead.
"Getting closer, huh?" Quinn smiled and rubbed my shoulders. "Do you need any help with the nest?"
I frowned and looked at my handiwork so far. I fussed with the pillows and blankets for hours at this point, but it still wasn’t right. Something was missing. I growled in frustration. What was it?
I flopped down on the bed and stared irritably at the wooden beams across the ceiling.
Then it struck me.
"Feathers," I murmured. I bolted upright, then immediately regretted it. "Ugh. It needs feathers. Specifically, down."
At first Quinn looked excited to suggest that I could simply shift into my finch form and gather the necessary down, but his face fell as he had the same realization that I did. "Oh. I guess you can't do that…"
Because the egg was so large, I couldn't shift into my finch form. In an ironic twist of fate, now I was stuck in myhumanform, at least until I'd laid the damn thing.
"Maybe I can ask my dad," Quinn suggested. "Or my uncle Weston, or Cloud–"
Just as I was about to politely refuse his offer, a meek knock came from the front door.
"I'll get it," Quinn said.
Too grouchy to keep lying there, I got up to see what the commotion was all about. "I'm coming too."
When we opened the door, it was the last person I expected to see. Or rather, last people.
Mistral stood there awkwardly, flanked by Santino in finch form. He was carrying a light wicker basket with his feet. To my shock, he wasn't glaring at me this time. He even nodded in polite greeting. I raised an eyebrow. Apparently, living with Mistral's annoying ass had whipped him into shape after all.
"Hi," Mistral finally said. "You're, uh, laying an egg, right?"
I crossed my arms, then uncrossed them because of the discomfort from within my belly. "And what about it?"
