“L-learn to normal talk. Try.” Whisper enunciated each syllable and Baba gave him a sad smile.
“Honey, you’ve grown up not knowing how. Your mouth and muscles are shaped in the wrong ways, now. It may never benormal.” Baba made air quotes with his fingers. “But you don’t have to be normal for us. Your voice is beautiful. It’s you. And if you never want to learn to speak, that is fine, too.”
Whisper twisted his lips as if the thought of not learning was shitty. “Sound bad in head.”
He pointed to his ear and rubbed at it, and I could imagine that after a lifetime of being unable to speak, the vibrations would itch and feel odd.
Whisper, giving his brightest smile, flinched as his stomach gave a great growl and Malkim waved them off. “Go feed our grandbaby before our new son starves to death.”
I couldn’t help but snicker and back down the steps first, helping Whisper down as if he were frail. He seemed to enjoy the attention, though. I loved fawning over him so dearly. And because he was letting me, I hefted him in my arms and marched down the ringing metal tower, my steps heavy. And to my utter delight, he laughed, a wheezy little chuckle that caught a few squeaks of his voice that I rewarded with a kiss.
I strode through the keep to the laundry room where Atkin was bent over, head in the dryer removing clothes. I sat Whisper down and clapped Atkin on the rump, making him give a fake moan. “Oh, no! What are you doooiiinnng, step-dragon?”
Whisper gave me a confused look that I hesitated and offered to explain later.
“It gets old, those two.” A nasally voice perked up, and I whipped around to see a rather plump young woman with vividly green hair knotted atop her head with a flower tucked into the shape of it. She offered a hand to Whisper. “So, you’re Marcus’s mate.”
Whisper nodded, and her eyes trailed down to his belly with a soft smile. “Eventually, Atkin and I will get around to that…”
“I’m game whenever you are, babe.” Atkin whipped by with a basket of laundry and plopped it onto a counter before folding.
She sneered. “I’m just glad it’s not me this round. I’m happy being an auntie for the time being. A baby right now would really put a damper on my career.”
Atkin snickered. “That and the ability to fuck anywhere in our hoard we please.”
“That, too.” She reached into the basket to pull out some rather racy underwear and folded them. “And I’d probably have to stop wearing things like this, or walking around in my undies.”
“You can’t walk around themnowwith Nula about!” Atkin sighed heavily.
“Point… But I’m young. I want my freedom for the time being.” She stuck her tongue out, and Atkin shook his head.
“Which reminds me. Go find Cirue and have him sit down and give Whisper some advice. He’s nesting.” Atkin gave me a bright smile, and my heart lifted.
“He’s laid already? All is well?” I grabbed for Whisper’s wrist.
“Oh yeah. Few days ago.” I tugged Whisper to follow me and waved goodbye, off to find our clan’s patriarch and his mate. Whisper had a lot to learn in a very short period of time.
Chapter Twelve
Whisper
I sat shifted among the comfortable nesting material that Cirue, a beautiful splotched dragon with bronze and white in his scales, had made for their egg. For a creature so large, the egg was small, an inconsequential thing that he breathed fire over, showing me the ways of draconic parenthood.
The laying isn’t so bad… It gets easier.Cirue glanced me up and down. I was barely an adult by draconic standards, so my first egg would be trying. I shifted my hips a little and enjoyed the sensation of the solid weight in my belly. I gave his little sparkling egg a lick of my flame, practicing controlling it while familiarizing the little one with my presence. Cirue said they loved me, and I couldn’t wait to nest and know my egg’s love.
A soft knock on the door distracted us, raising our heads as one to stare at an invading presence—Morris.
Mate.Cirue’s purr told me all I needed to know, and I shifted, dressing hurriedly as I scampered out with a polite wave to our eldest dragon. Once Marcus was off his shift, I’d seek some time in my growing nest alone, too.
As I traipsed my way down a hall, I passed by a familiar scent, a bobcat, and turned, spying an omega I half recognized scrubbing at the communal bathroom floor. Bartlet? He raised his head, brow furrowed. “Whisper?”
I canted my head in question, stuffing my hands in my hoodie pockets to hide my state. I didn’t want anyone prying into my business.
“Hold on a sec—” He pulled out a phone and dialed, gaze going fierce as he glanced up and down the halls. “Got him right here.”
He shoved the phone toward me, and I tilted my head to hear the disgustingly familiar voice on the other end. Goober. “Wampus! Boy, you are in a hill of trouble! But, now that you’re back from wherever you been, you’re gonna let me into one of them hoards.”
I shook my head, staring the omega down as he relayed my response.
