Finlay stepped onto the porch.
Erwan knew before the omega said a word. Before the red-rimmed eyes registered, before the tear-streaked cheeks, before the hands pressed against his stomach in a gesture that was as old as life itself. He knew because his dragon magic sensed it—the faint, unmistakable spark of new life, nestled inside Finlay’s body like embers in a banked fire.
Two sparks. Two eggs.
His eggs. His children.
The champagne glass slipped from Erwan’s fingers. He didn’t hear it hit the porch boards. He didn’t hear anything except the rush of blood in his ears and the sudden, thundering acceleration of his heart and the dragon fire in his chest roaring to life with a ferocity that made the air around him shimmer.
“I’m sorry,” Finlay whispered, and the tears spilling down his cheeks carried a shame Erwan recognized with a grief that cut through his joy. “I’m sorry there are only two. I know you needed more. I know the bloodline needs?—”
“Finlay.” Erwan’s voice came out rough, barely functional. “Stop.”
“My body should’ve been able to carry more. I don’t understand why I didn’t?—”
“Finlay.” Erwan stood, Ainle still in his arms, and crossed the porch to stand in front of the omega. “Look at me.”
Finlay raised his head. His eyes—golden-brown, swimming with tears, carrying the anguish of an omega who’d been told his whole life that his worth was measured in eggs produced—met Erwan’s.
“Two is perfect,” Erwan said, and meant it with every atom of the White Dragon’s fire. “Two is more than I ever dared to hope for. Two is a miracle.”
“But the bloodline?—”
“Fuck the bloodline. Besides, Jermon has four hatchlings, and Nadiv has five. The bloodline is fine.” He shifted Ainle to one arm and took Finlay’s hand with the other. “These eggs were conceived in respect and love, not violence. They will be carried in safety, not fear. And they will be born into a family that will love them and protect them with everything we have. Do you understand? Two is not a failure. Two is a gift. The greatest gift anyone has ever given me.”
Finlay’s composure shattered. The tears that had been falling silently became sobs—deep, wracking, the release of a man who had braced himself for disappointment and received the opposite. He sagged forward, and Erwan caught him one-armed, pulling the omega against his chest beside Ainle, holding them both.
Then Rhene was there. He pulled Finlay from Erwan’s arms and into his own, wrapping the omega in a hug so fierce that Finlay’s feet left the ground.
“Two,” Rhene said, and his voice cracked in a way that would’ve been embarrassing if anyone present had been inclined to judge, which no one was. “We’re having hatchlings. Erwan, we’re having hatchlings.”
“I know.” Erwan’s own voice wasn’t much steadier.
“Dragon hatchlings. Our hatchlings. Yours and—” Rhene pulled back to look at Finlay, his hands on the omega’s shoulders, his expression blazing with a joy so intense it was almost painful to witness. “Thank you. Finlay, thank you. You have no idea what this?—”
“I wanted to give you this,” Finlay managed through his tears. “Both of you. After everything, I wanted?—”
“You’ve given us everything.” Rhene pulled him close again, and Erwan watched his mate hold the omega who was carrying their children with a tenderness that made his own eyes burn.
Then the brothers descended. Jermon was first—setting his two hatchlings down in the nearest safe spot and wrapping Finlay in a hug that was half congratulations and half protective older brother. “How are you feeling? Any nausea? Have you been to the clinic?”
“Jermon, let the man breathe,” Nadiv said, then immediately hugged Finlay himself. “How many weeks? Have you thought about names?”
“Nadiv, you are literally doing the same thing you just told me not to,” Jermon pointed out.
“Yes, but I’m doing it with more charm.”
Valdis didn’t hug Finlay—the youngest brother wasn’t a hugger—but he put his hand on the omega’s shoulder and squeezed once, firmly, and the look he gave him said everything his words didn’t.
Gael appeared in the doorway—Finlay’s mate, the quiet omega whose black dragon energy was a steady, grounding presence whenever he was near. His eyes found Finlay’s tear-streaked face, then Erwan’s expression, then Rhene still wiping his eyes, and a smile broke across his face that was sunrise-bright.
Gael moved to Finlay’s side and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. “He’s been terrified to tell you. He was convinced two wasn’t enough. I told him it didn’t matter.”
“Two is perfect,” Erwan said again, and this time, looking at Finlay’s face, he saw the shame fading, replaced by tentative joy. “Two is everything.”
The celebration expanded to include the news, which meant more champagne was needed, which meant someone had to go hunt for a bottle, which meant the pack would know within the hour, which meant by morning, the entire community would be celebrating the fact that King Erwan’s biological children were on their way.
Erwan sat on the porch steps with Ainle asleep in his arms and watched the people he loved celebrate around him. Nadiv was comparing notes with Finlay about egg development timelines. Jermon was explaining hatchling care with the overwhelming thoroughness of a father who had opinions about every aspect of the process. Valdis had retreated to his chair with a fresh glass of champagne and the expression of a man who was genuinely happy for everyone and also genuinely grateful it wasn’t him. Not yet.
