“Muzo’s nesting,” I explained quickly before bolting down the hall.
My chest swirled with anxiety and excitement. I needed to protect my mate, and I was also eager to see our beautiful egg. But first, I had to help Muzo through the process of laying it.
I found him behind the castle in the curated garden space. He wasn’t hard to spot—the furry tail sticking out of a freshly dug hole in the ground was a good indication.
I sighed, relieved to catch up with him. “Need help?” I offered.
He didn’t respond. He was muttering to himself about the size of the den, and how it had to be just right.
Instead of smothering him with assistance he didn’t want, I waited beside the dirt pile like a bodyguard. I was content to watch him exert his natural urges. His jackal-isms were adorable.
“Ah,” Jade said, appearing from behind a dragon-shaped topiary. He closed the book in his hand. There was a photo of various wild canines on the cover. “Looks like Muzo is right on time to start denning.”
I blinked, surprised to see him. Before I could ask how he knew, Jade supplied the answer. “Aurum told us. The others are on their way with supplies if needed.”
So the twin I’d run into was Aurum? I didn’t expect him to raise the alarm, given his distaste for fated mates, but I supposed an egg-laying and the arrival of a new family member was different.
Right on cue, my brothers appeared, with mates in tow for those who had them. In their arms were blankets, towels, buckets of water, and everything else a nesting omega could ever need.
I kneeled closer to the opening of the rapidly forming den. “Muzo, everyone’s here to help,” I told him.
His distracted voice returned as a muffled echo from inside the dirt hole. “Wha? Oh, that’s great, thanks.”
Taylor clicked his tongue. His arms were full of scorned quilts. “We rushed for nothing. He’s doing a fine job on his own.”
Matteo shrugged casually. “Better to be over-prepared, eh?”
I nodded. Even if Muzo was fine, I appreciated both of them coming. I felt better knowing there were two omegas present who could walk my mate through the process if he needed moral support.
After twenty minutes of silent digging, Muzo’s dusty jackal snout suddenly popped out of the hole. He looked frantic.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Blueberry,” Muzo mumbled. “Where is he? Need Blueberry. Now.”
“He wants blueberries?” Matteo asked, glancing at the nearest bush. “There’s a whole patch of them there.”
“No,” I said, standing up. “He wants Blueberry, his plush toy. I’ll go get him.”
I last recalled seeing the plushie in our bedroom, where he sat by the headboard like the draconic king of Pillow Mountain.
There was no time to waste. If my mate wanted Blueberry, then I’d fetch him ASAP. I ran inside, up the stairs, and into our bedroom.
Only to find Blueberry missing.
Dumbfounded, I stared at the empty space. Blueberry wasalwaysthere. But where could an inanimate object possibly have gone? It wasn’t like he got up and walked away.
I tore the room apart looking for him, but to my frustration, I came up empty-handed. Muzo was waiting for meandBlueberry, but it pained me to be apart from my mate for a second longer.
“Sorry, Blueberry,” I mumbled under my breath.
I raced back to the den in the garden. As my brothers made space for my return, I noticed one was missing—Viol. In normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have thought anything of it. But oddly, he never missed an egg-laying. It was the closest thing we had to quality family time with him.
But Viol wasn’t my concern. My focus was on my mate.
Muzo heard my arrival and poked his head out of the den. “Did you find him?” he asked, eyes wide in anticipation.
I hated telling him my answer. “I’m sorry.”
