“Are you sure nobody knew?” Varis huffed. “Because I only have two pillows made for them! They shouldn’t have to share! I need a third cushion.”
And there theavaricewas. His eggs deserved the best. And despite the flawed nature of their third egg, Varis didn’t turn it to hide the crease, didn’t shy away from it. He turned it the correctway and lifted it to his chest, taking deep breaths as draconic instinct had his scales prickling. It was easy to see Varis bonding so fiercely with his eggs by his posture alone, bent forward, face darting around from one to the other. His fingernails, bearing freshly shifted clawtips, curled with protective urges. “My babies. Mine… Mine and yours. Ours.”
Ghreid didn’t say a word. There was such beauty in watching Varis tend them, rolling the eggs from one side to the other, clutching them to his chest. Muttered words made his lips flutter as he gathered blankets and pillows into a warm snuggle pile to position the eggs against his chest and belly to curl around—but Ghreid vacated the nest, understanding what Varis must not have.
“Love. Shift. Let your dragon bond with the eggs. That’s why your anxious.” Ghreid sat to the side as Varis struggled with one egg then the other, body shivering.
Varis wheeled his head around to face Ghreid, eyes wild. If his dragon wasn’t there in form, it certainly was behind his eyes, territorial and desperate. Terrified eyes flicked from the eggs to the nest then around, shoulders rounding. Something in his gaze and calculating posture told Ghreid the issue. So, cautiously, Ghreid approached their eggs and gathered the cushions, situating them farther away from Varis as his dragon took over.
With a salacious noise, Varis stretched his body, mouth open in a gaping yawn that stretched ever wider as teeth sharpened in his mouth, water of form pouring out of his human vessel into a new one. Every click of bone and swell of flesh drew them closer to an end form, beautiful in nature. Every pale spot lining his flesh shone in stark relief against the violet shifting scales, wide earfins pinned back beneath curled red horns, and eyes so beautifully amber and copper that Ghreid couldn’t look away. Certainly copper was a less valuable metal, but the wayVaris wore it was as if it were something truly precious. It made Ghreid wonder if magic lay in copper, too.
When Varis’s great tail swept around and wings rustled, Ghreid struggled to push his own fine cushion, as well as the two custom-made for their eggs, into the nook of Varis’s belly. There, on Ghreid’s fine pillow, the egg, even with its flaw, stood in sharp relief, dark silk highlighting the shape as if it were a natural pearl. Varis studied each of them, nose tucking in to blow hot steam over each of the eggs in turn before circling up almost catlike, his body nearly filling the entirety of their nest. A wide berth around him left room for Ghreid if he so wished to fill the space in his greater dragon form. “Shifting will help with the healing.”
Varis only groaned in acknowledgment before lifting one wing and nudging his head up against Ghreid’s side. An invitation to snuggle. Ghreid didn’t have to be asked twice, fond memories in his mind of being a child in the throes of his first human form’s features and limited to the shifts he could do in a day, tucked into his mother’s side, lapping up her very breath of affection, much to their father’s annoyance. He was a jealous male, but he almost took pride in how much Inessa cared for them.
Ghreid understood, at that moment. It was as if his eggs were secondary only to him, but Ghreid couldn’t give the jealousy any real energy. He wanted it all, and in his nest, he had it.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Varis
Shifting into his human form seemed…banal. He was in a superior form, strong and dedicated to his clutch, and with family at his sides, he was rather pleased with himself.
Asha, his hapless brother-in-law, two little dragonlings, and a rather sleepy Slath sat contentedly in bed as sunlight filtered in over them. The wholenestbeing a private-affair thing seemed almost vulgar. Nesting was for all little ones. Nesting was for eggs and family. It surprised Varis that the brothers didn’t engage in a little cuddle once in a while. Having two warm humanoid forms draped over his side and snoring while two petite hatchlings snuggled into his chest next to three burning-hot andaliveeggs made Varis want to sing and soar.
In the days since their laying, they’d grown, filling out into taut, hard shapes. Their third egg, which they waited for news about, hummed with pleasant energy, its presence a convoluted and ethereal sort of thing. The soul in it was less robust than the others, but not in a bad way. It needed more care, more love, and more attention. And not because it was weaker, because it was… Varis couldn’t define it. Because, of course, eggs werenew. They were only just laid. They were newborn, but something about this egg shined like a newly minted coin.
Well-wishers came by occasionally, drawing Ghreid into business and discussions that kept him away from the nest. Varis appreciated it. Ghreid made him feel things other than egg-related parental feelings. Slath and Asha, however, didn’t.
Varis snoozed on and off as the little ones crawled around, making mischief with the odd tassel. For creatures as curious and strong as they were, they were remarkably careful and considerate.
From somewhere in the estate, a bell rang and Asha rose with a yawn, gathering his little ones under each arm with a beaming smile that never dimmed. Slath followed, getting doors for him before turning. “Want me to have food sent in?”
Varis blew a flick of steam and curled tighter with his eggs. They needed protection. His babies. They needed him. They—
Varis wasn’t sure how long it’d been since his nephews and brothers-in-law had left, but the door cracked open with a polite tap, a familiar face pushing a skirted cart—Falustus’s little pet that had come as a piece of the temple’s furniture.
He slouched, as usual, swimming in robes too big for his frame, the ruddy fabric unflattering and stinking, not that it wasn’t clean, but that pious odor had permeated every fiber. Varis snorted a cloud of steam and stared the male down. He stank of fear, shaking almost, the joists on the cart rattling as it drew nearer. Wild eyes flicked from the cart to Varis, and he raised his head, a rumble of interest purring free of his lungs.
Lurin? Varis was usually good with names, but he was instinctive with demeanors, and something seemed different. His posture, still stooped, coiled with fear that he shouldn’t have had near a dragon. Falustus should have ensured it—but it appeared he’d reinforced it.
Varis resettled himself in his nest and adjusted himself, ready to shift into his more human form to bring him relief.
A soft whisper halted Varis. “Don’t.”
Varis froze in place as wild eyes pinned to him. Lurin moved to reveal a domed platter on top of the tray, something roasted and delicious beneath it. He lifted the lid and tilted the dome toward him.
Inside the lid were jagged scrawls in rather juvenile and clumsy Kalish. Their words slowly disappeared as the steam from the lid dried up, as if the words had been traced in oil or grease.Poison. Danger. Please do as I say.
Varis snorted, hovering over his eggs protectively. Lurin muttered words in practiced but halting Kalish. “I hide eggs.”
He pulled the skirt back on the cart and pulled free a rough cloth sack before gesturing to the space beneath. “I put in closet.”
Varis nodded once, tensing hard as the earnest truth glimmered in eyes that held something strange in them, magic? Surely not. He didn’t feel like an ashen, not that Varis had met many. Part elf? They were rarer than a red moon in Eland. Varis had met a half elf before and they hadn’t had that glint.
With harried urgency, he gestured toward the edge of the nest and approached. Varis, one at a time, helped to move the eggs onto the cart and watched with growing tension as he moved the domed platter to the ground and wheeled the cart into the closet and shut the door with the slowest and painfully gentle gestures.
He walked back to the nest and reached into his sack, pulling out a strange assortment of thin pottery shards, tossing them over the side of the nest, then withdrew a leather bladder from within the sack and dumped a sickeningly foul batter over the shards, a mixture of chicken egg and innards. He snarled and halted at Lurin’s gesture. It was only then Varis realized what the mess was for. The facsimile of smashed eggs. Varis’s head spun and his dragon began to hyperventilate, huffing hard, tears stinging his eyes.
