His eyes widened a fraction, before a slow grin spread across his face. “Flying?”
“I don’t know if we’ll get off the ground, but my dragon’s wings ache to be let out,” I said. “It’s time I tend to his needs too, after the way he’s taken care of me.”
Upalo rubbed his hands together. “Does that mean what I think it means?”
“Yup, it’s uncle-niece time,” I declared before pressing a kiss to the tip of each egg.
We exchanged places with the greatest of care not to jostle the girls, Upalo curling his arm around them and snuggling close, cuddling them the same way I did.
“I haven’t read these yet,” I whispered, passing him the three books that had been at the edge of the nest.
“Thank you.”
He had the first book open before Odem and I reached the door, his voice following us into our bedroom, where I changed into one of my maternity dresses, since that would be easy to remove once I was outside.
My dragon was not going to be patient much longer. Being able to walk down the stairs again was nice, but I’d miss being carried up and down in my mate’s arms.
Anytime.
Odem’s voice in my head was a sure sign that my thoughts had been loud.
Please.
I swear my dragon whimpered when he said it, so I lengthened my strides, grass tickling my toes when I stepped outside, barefoot.
Dragons don’t whimper!
So much for having time to take off my dress.
So much for not flying.
My thoughts were reeling as we launched skyward, before crashing snout first into the ground two flaps later, wings clumsy from years left unused.
Careful mate, Odem cautioned, sunlight making the red in his scales shine even brighter.
Caution wasn’t high on my dragon’s priority list, the sky spinning this time, before our tail took the brunt of the fall.
You’re stubborn in every form, aren’t you?
Our only response was to flick our long, forked tongue out at him.
Ours.
I couldn’t explain the shift in our connection except to say that the moment he burst free, it was like I gained a whole other awareness of what it meant to be connected to him.
Andouch, goddammit, even with scales the ground was still hard.
One poor shrub didn’t stand a chance when we landed on it, and explosion of greenery bursting out in every direction. Our tail smashed another one, as we lashed it back and forth, gathering momentum for another launch.
Three flaps, four flaps, five flaps. We looked down to see how high we were and plummeted when we forgot to flap. Odem would need to straighten the pole holding the birdfeeder and refill it after a minor collision sent bird seed everywhere.
Okay, lesson learned, constant wing flapping was a must, at least during takeoff. We’d figure out gliding later… once we stopped denting the yard.
Every earth rattling crash came from a greater height, drawing an audience of, well, damn near everybody. I was going to have to give serious consideration to charging admission for moments like these, now that they were becoming commonplace.
“Keep flapping!” someone yelled from below.
A booming voice thunderedYou’ve got this!
