I held Kirion as he strained. I put lubricating gel around the rim of his hole, though he was creating slick, as well. I wanted him comfortable and would risk nothing to keep him that way.
“That’s cold. And it tickles.” He wasn’t complaining, just trying to keep from laughing.
Soon his hole was bigger than I’d ever seen it. The eggshell was blue. It looked strong but I worried about it cracking as it emerged from his opening. The doctor had assured me it was made to withstand being laid through a sphincter.
It all still seemed so impossible.
“Tane, I can feel it slipping out. Is it coming? Is it out yet?”
I looked down at him. The oval end of the egg was protruding.
“Not yet, sweetie. Keep pushing with every contraction. I’m here to catch it.”
As I spoke, another contraction shuddered through him. The egg progressed. Inch by inch, it slowly made its way outside his body.
“It’s coming. It’s beautiful. So big. And you’re doing it.”
“It’s slipping. It feels like it’s falling. Don’t let it fall.”
“My hands are right here. I’m touching it. Push once more and I’ll have it.”
He obeyed and the egg slid silently from his stretched hole. It was shiny with slick, perfect, and so blue. No cracks.
“I’ve got it. It’s beautiful. No flaws. You did so well, my love.”
Kirion collapsed onto his stomach. “Wow, it feels so good to get that out of me.”
I used towels to clean Kirion and the egg. We had a special heated egg basket ready to hold it. Kirion turned onto his side to help me steer the egg into its warm new environment.
Once, long ago in the wild, dragons made nests in trees. They would shift to dragon form to lay and then sit on the nest for weeks as their mate hunted and brought food to them. In modern times, we had heated baskets. Some still shifted to lay. Kirion didn’t have that choice.
We both sighed loudly at our egg, stroking it gently, our eyes filled with wonder. The egg was warm and a definite presence resonated from it. We had a baby growing inside it. No question now.
“You did that so perfectly,” I said.
“It was weird, but I feel okay.”
“Good.”
We spent several hours sitting by the basket, watching the egg. Finally, Kirion was feeling better. He showered, then returned to the nest demanding food.
Being a good alpha hunter, I brought him trays of food. I had help, cooks and a devoted butler, but I was the one who fetched whatever Kirion wanted.
I delegated most of my business work to my teams and took paternity leave. For days at a time, I turned off my phone and email and devoted myself to Kirion and the egg. We slept and ate with the egg. We made love by the egg but covered the basket whenever that happened.
When the hatching day arrived, we were on the lookout for pips. Those were small dents in the eggshell that would alert us to the impending hatch.
We stared for hours. We held hands. We ate our meals barely noticing the food.
Finally, at nine o’clock that night, I saw something. “Look. I think I see a dot.”
“Where?” Kirion bent his head toward mine.
I pointed, not touching. Hatching needed to be unassisted or the baby could suffer from various maladies, including never being able to fly.
Kirion squinted. “That’s a dent for sure.” He grinned. “It won’t be long now.”
I shrugged. “It might take all night.”
