He stepped forward another half-pace and wrapped his tail all the way around her. She sat on the thick muscle, awaiting some sort of explanation. When he did not indicate he would change into his human form to speak, Elowen’s heart ached. He looked at her as if he were memorizing every line of her face.
Then, slowly, deliberately, Midas lowered his great snout to her stomach. His breath paused for a moment before he gave a single exhale and gently nudged her belly with the tip of his nose.
Elowen froze. “What?”
His golden eyes lifted to hers, and he blinked, waiting for her to put the pieces together herself. A hand flew to her stomach. She blinked at him, her breath trembling and heart pounding.
“That’s not possible,” she whispered, trying to deny what he and her body were quietly telling her. “I…I don’t understand.”
Midas nuzzled against her once more, a sign of great affection, and let her process what was happening in silence. Neither of them had ever heard of such a thing—a human and a dragon conceiving a child. But Elowen knewthat Midas’ senses would not deceive him, and that from his behavior, he had likely known for weeks.
Elowen laughed out a broken, stunned sound that turned into a soft sob, accompanied by a smile that went up to her eyes. Midas made a low, apologetic noise. He never liked to see her cry, even if it was from happiness.
She leaned forward and pressed her forehead to his, hand still over her belly. “You knew,” she whispered. “You’ve been taking care of me.Us.”
His eyes fluttered closed. For a long moment, they simply stayed like that: woman, dragon, and the tender life in her belly.
Twenty-Nine
Elowen didn’t expectthings to happen so quickly after she found out she was carrying Midas’ child.
One day, she could still curl beside him at night, her knees tucked comfortably beneath her chin. The next, her dress clung tight across her hips and strained at the seams. Midas had always fed her well, and her body that was once worn thin by starvation already grew the curves of abundance—but now her body grew round and full with a swiftness that startled them both.
It had scarcely been two months and Elowen looked halfway to bursting.
It was not human, this pregnancy. That should have been obvious, given the circumstances, but it was a marvel and a curse at the way her body changed so quickly. Her ankles and joints complained at every movement. Her skin was too often flushed. Her stomach was always unsettled and emptied itself before every meal. Her muscles felt weak and useless. She moved slower and needed more rest.
Midas had become anew—a creature of vigilance and tenderness. No longer did he bring her shiny baubles from his outings. Now he brought softer bedding, finer clothes, and an abundance of offerings for the child. Wood-carved bassinets, toys, blankets, clothes.
He didn’t sleep much anymore. Always too worried, always watching, always needing to provide and support.
When Elowen vomited, he cleaned her face. When the aches in her joints brought her to tears, he cradled her with his tail. He only gave her the freshest, cleanest water he had melted from the tip of the mountain, and everything she ate went through a thorough inspection under his nose to ensure it was safe and fresh.
He cared for her like he always had: as something precious, but with a new ferocity built on instinct.
Whenever Elowen tried to do anything for herself, even as simple as stirring soup, Midas would block her path with a frown, rumbling from his chest until she sat back down. Guilt shown in his eyes from confining her to the nest, but he would not risk anything happening to her or the child.
When sleep found her, Midas stayed awake. He watched her, but he also made it a habit to croon against her belly, where their child grew with a strange, relentless speed.
Midas had great worry that this child might see him as a monster, and his hope is that they would recognize the sound when they were born, and understand that there was no creature alive that would keep them safer.
Elowen awoke one night to his crooning, his golden eyes meeting hers and softening. She glanced down at her swollen belly and back up. “They are growing so fast. Toofast, maybe. I’m not sure my body will hold them for much longer. I might give birth before the next full moon.”
He had made the same assumption weeks ago, but did not answer her.
And he certainly did not tell her how much it worried him.
When morning came,Midas had gone to fetch more food. If Elowen began her labor soon, he was unsure of how long it would be before he was able to hunt again. She had taught him how to salt and preserve meat, how to seal clay pots to keep fruit fresh, and how to purify water with fire if needed. All of these things he could now do with practiced ease in his human form, though the stress from Elowen’s discomfort made it hard for him to shift.
He returned to the mouth of the cave quietly. The mountain had grown warm with the rising sun, and Elowen was already awake, peeling an orange in the nest.
He had not meant to hide, but found himself listening to her soft voice echoing faintly against the stone, lilting like birdsong. He paused just beyond a bend in the passage.
Fire lit her face, and her hair was unbound over her shoulder. Her voice was low—a hush meant for no one but the child nestled safely in her womb.
Or so she thought—for Midas crouched in the shadows and listened.
“You know,” she murmured, running her fingers in slowcircles over her stomach, “your father is the most remarkable thing I’ve ever known.”
