All will be well,Ian thought in Matthieu’s direction.You are surrounded by people who love you—people who will do everything they can to help us. We aren’t alone. We are loved.
With a long-suffering sigh, Matthieu patted Ian’s thigh, then rested his head on Geoffrey’s shoulder. Geoffrey, meanwhile, supervised Everard with hawkish intensity.
Everard leaned over the ring of dragons protecting Matthieu and his eggs and touched each shell gently, only letting his hand linger for a moment. In that moment, Ian watched each egg light up, then fade. Magic. Ian glanced at Everard, who was wholly focused on the task at hand, then turned his attention to Matthieu, who was exhausted. How strange it was to think that, one day, Matthieu might be capable of such feats. Disgraces had never been seen as anything more than disappointments, but the world was changing.
Ian couldn’t be more thankful for it.
When Everard was done, he gave Ian, Matthieu, and Geoffrey the news. “The whelps are as healthy as could be. While it is early for them to hatch, I see no reason for alarm. Even the twins, who are most at risk for being underdeveloped, appear to be in good shape. You’ve made strong children, brother.” Everard glanced at Ian. “Brother and brother-in-law, I suppose. Good genes all around.”
Relief flooded through Ian’s mate bonds from both directions. The tension left Geoffrey’s shoulders, and Ian felt it lift from his as well. He had no reason to doubt Everard. If he claimed the children would be fine, they would be.
The twin egg, which was the most active by far, rocked forward. A chip broke off the shell, and for a second, a small, white egg tooth was visible.
Matthieu gasped.
The first chip was joined by a second. A hairline crack appeared, not enough to break the egg open, but promising all the same. While the twins laid waste to their encasement, the dark purple Amethyst egg wiggled, and with a sharpclick,a large, jagged piece fell out of the shell. A black talon hooked through the hole and scraped its way along the surface. Matthieu, trembling, reached forward, fingers outstretched, and laid a single fingertip on the talon.
Ian’s soul snapped.
Startled, he fell on his ass and pressed a hand to his chest. His heart thrummed, and within it, he felt the stirrings of something new.
A bond.
The Amethyst hatchling was not his by blood, but he had bonded to it all the same. Tears misted his vision, but he blinked them away before they could fall. When his children came into the world, he wanted to see it happen.
The egg wiggled, then, leveraging his claws, the whelp inside tore open the shell and fell out into the nest of clothing. Matthieu, crying, picked him up and held him to his chest, and the new baby, who could have been a clone of Geoffrey when Geoffrey was his age, nuzzled beneath Matthieu’s chin and made small, happy noises. Overjoyed sensations flowed through Ian’s new bond.
Love. Love! Safe, happy, cuddle.
Love.
Ian smiled. He stroked small, impossibly soft scales on the whelp’s back all the way down to his long, narrow tail.
How could scales be so small? And talons, and…
Ian laughed. It was abrupt and coarse, but it was welcome.
His son. This was hisson.
Ian stole a look at Geoffrey, who cried silently while he stroked their firstborn’s scales, and at Matthieu, who planted kiss after kiss on the hatchling’s head.
Theirson.
“How I love you,” Matthieu whispered in French. “How I adore you.”
Pure, glowing happiness flooded through Ian in return.
The next egg to hatch was the one the color of orange poppies. Ian watched, heart full, while their son pecked the egg apart and wriggled his way to freedom. He went to Geoffrey, who cradled him in his arms and looked happier than he had ever been before. The last time Ian had seen him a fraction as blissful was when Killian, Lucian, Bellamy, Ashley, and Flake had hatched, but even then, Geoffrey’s skin had never been so radiant, and his smile had never been so bright.
It wasn’t long before the next two eggs erupted, both hatchlings spilling forth at almost the same time. The apricot hatchling crawled onto Matthieu’s lap, then put his small feet on Ian’s side, careful of his claws. Ian scooped him up and kissed the top of his head. On Matthieu’s other side, Geoffrey helped the other hatchling, whose scales were burgundy, and who chirped and purred the loudest of them all.
One by one, newpopslit Ian’s soul up like porch lights illuminating the night.
While Ian basked in the joy of the moment, the twin egg twitched and wiggled, then, at last, burst open at the hairline fracture. The adult dragons surrounding the hatching let out a collective gasp, except for Harry, who squeaked loudly in excitement.
“Look at them!” Harry exclaimed. “I was right. I think my hypothesis is right! We need more mixed alpha-alpha-omega clutches to be sure. Do you think the council would—” Harry cut off as if he’d been abruptly silenced. Ian glanced away from his magnificent children to see what had happened and found that Everard had tugged Harry to him and had begun to kiss him deeply.
For now, Harry seemed content to let science take a back seat to passion.
