"And if you are?"
"Then we figure out how to raise a baby dragon together." Her voice carries determination layered over fear. "Because I'll have no idea what I'm doing."
"Neither will I."
"We'll figure it out together."
Together. That word again. Settling into my bones like truth.
We lie there tangled while exhaustion pulls us both toward sleep. Her consciousness starts to drift, thoughts fragmenting into dreams.
One last coherent thought from her before she slips under:Possible child. Possible future.
Yes.
I hold her while she sleeps. My mate. My dragon. Maybe carrying the first dragon born in generations.
Everything Mikhail spent centuries trying to destroy, yet here I lie with my mate in my arms and the future spreading out before us like uncharted ocean.
The first of our new dragon generation.
Our child will know peace. Will grow up protected by the Brotherhood and loved by a community that fought for its right to exist. Will learn to fly in skies Mikhail will never darken again.
Will continue a line that refused to die.
My hand stays pressed against Lila's belly. Her breathing evens out, deep and steady. The cave settles into silence broken only by waves against stone and the slow drip of water from mineral formations overhead.
I should sleep. Rest while I can.
But I stay awake, watching her chest rise and fall, feeling the bond pulse between us with each heartbeat. Centuries alone. Centuries convinced my line ended with Saoirse's death.
Now I have this.
A mate. A child. A future I never let myself imagine.
The ocean calls through the cave entrance. Familiar. Constant. The same rhythm that's marked my existence since before humans built their first boats.
I tighten my arm around Lila and she moves closer in her sleep, murmuring something I can't make out. Her hand finds mine where it rests against her belly. Our fingers lace together.
This. This is worth everything.
CHAPTER 16
LILA
The baby kicks hard enough to alter my center of gravity, and I adjust my stance automatically.
Months pregnant and I still think in terms of variables. Weight distribution. Skeletal alignment. The biomechanics of carrying a dragon child who already exhibits supernatural strength before birth. My hand finds the curve of my belly where tiny feet push against my palm, and I catalog the sensation for future reference.
The cave system Finn and I share has been transformed. Declan insisted the child would need space to shift safely, so the pack helped excavate new sections after we were sure of the pregnancy. Now we have a library where I keep research notes and equipment, a bathing area with water Finn heats using dragon fire, storage for supplies a baby might need, and shelves for the books Isla brings weekly.
Finn emerges from the deeper chambers carrying driftwood for the fire pit. He moves with the same predator grace he always has, but lighter now. The weight he carried for millennia has lifted.
"Ready?" He sets the wood down and crosses to me, his hands finding my hips with the possessive touch that grounds me.
Tonight is the celebration at Wolfstone Abbey. Declan wants everyone gathered. A formal acknowledgment of what we survived, what we've built, and what comes next.
I've been documenting the island's recovery for the Institute's records. The waters around Skara are healing, the corruption from Mikhail's syndicate breaking down under natural processes. My official story says Dr. Lila Mercer is on extended research contract studying long-term ecological recovery. The reality is I'm a dragon living with my mate, pregnant with the first natural-born dragon in generations, working with Isla to integrate scientific methodology with magical understanding.
