Harry frowned. “Well, he’s no longer gestating. Should that be gestated?” At Matthieu’s glare, Harry shook his head and went on. “It’s because you’re going to be so active. I quite envy you. My gestation was so boring.”
“What?” Everard said.
Geoffrey glanced at his brother. Ian winced and glanced at the ceiling. Vadim chuckled and bit down on his lip to keep from smirking. Snorre boomed out a laugh. “Our celebrated gestational doctor doesn’t know!”
“Riblet, please elucidate what you are trying to say. This is important.”
“Oh, of course.” Harry smiled and announced to the room what everyone but Everard already knew. “Congratulations, Matthieu. You’re gestating.”
28
Matthieu
“Gestating,” Everard said flatly. “As in, eggs?”
Harry smiled. “Yes.”
“Crackling, are you well? We went over his paperwork together while assembling our proposed plan of action for the experiment—his heat isn’t for another few months, at least.”
Snorre poked Erik in the ribs with his elbow. “I remember a certain someone saying the exact same thing when Vadim last went into heat.”
Vadim batted his eyelashes at Erik. Erik turned scarlet.
“Wait,” Geoffrey said, his voice shrill. Notes of hope carried in his voice as clearly as they did his mate bond. He laid a trembling hand on Matthieu’s flat abdomen. “Harrison, how can you know? That’s… it’s impossible. It hasn’t even been hours.”
Everard scrubbed his eyes. “Ah, yes, just what I needed to go along with my Earl Grey—a reminder that the freshly bred scent on the air is my brother’s spend.”
“Not just his. Likely Ian’s as well,” Harry added helpfully.
Everard did his best to hide his entire face behind his palm. “Thank you, fudge cake.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Perhaps it’s not impossible,” Ian murmured, no more distracted by Harry and Everard’s conversation than Harry and Everard were by theirs.
“But how can he know?” Geoffrey protested. There was murmuring around the table as the idea was discussed, but it ceased when Geoffrey raised his voice. “There hasn’t been enough time for any significant cell division to have occurred. Harrison, please, explain.”
Everard hummed in agreement. “Please do, coconut custard, before my brother damages himself. I’m all agog myself, to be honest.”
Matthieu felt Geoffrey’s gratitude for Everard at bringing his rambling mate to the point.
“Oh, the bonds,” Harry revealed as though it were obvious. “Darwin showed them to me. They’re tiny and faint, but I can just see them. Isn’t it interesting? My current hypothesis is that egg bonds develop in tandem with the eggs, but I can’t be sure. What I do know is that there are five of them. Or maybe six. It’s hard to tell for sure.”
A piercing bolt of emotion speared Matthieu. Eggs.Eggs!Then, one day, whelps. Geoffrey and Ian’s children.
Their children.
He had no idea who the father was, and he didn’t care.
Still resting on Matthieu, Geoffrey’s hand trembled again.Mine.
There was a corresponding echo from Ian.Mine.
Matthieu answered with,Ours.
Ian laced his fingers with Geoffrey’s.Family.
* * *
