Flight Risk

20. Epilogue

Epilogue

Tavian

The day was here. It had to be.

The last few days, the eggs had been brimming with activity within the nest. The gentle taps and little quivers of movement that were visible underneath their hard shells had become more prominent. The outer shells had begun to dimple and soften. Any day now, an egg tooth would break through, and the little ones would make their appearance known.

We had a camera on the nest at all times, so if we had to leave the room, we still had eyes on them. Not that we were straying too far from the nest.

In the past week, Kier had gone to working only part-time, spending half a day in the office. I had worked from home when he wasn’t there. When we had both had to step out of the house to do some last-minute errands before our paternity leave began, my dad had stayed watch over the nest. Eryndor and Thorne had also taken turns watching over the nest for a while. Of course, the two of them just liked to tell my dragonets stories of my misspent youth.

Now, the midday sun shone through the windows, casting a warm glow over the eggs. They were perfectly positioned to get the most sunlight, just as Kier had wanted them to be.

Kier was draped over the edge of nest, his hand gently caressing one egg, then the next. I settled on the floor next to him and handed him his cup of tea.

“Any new signs?” I asked.

“In the five minutes it took you to get me tea and come back? Not really.”

“I can’t believe they are going to hatch soon.”

“I know. It’s like watching water boil though, seems to be taking forever. And I’m going to miss these quiet moments.”

I leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to my mate’s soft cheek. “I am too, my love. Once these shells break, we can say goodbye to quiet.”

Kier laughed softly, his gaze sweeping lovingly over the eggs. “I think they can sense how much we love them. They’re just taking their time for the big debut.”

“Who do you think will be first?”

Kier shot me a glare. “It doesn’t matter who is first. This is not a race.”

At that moment, a sharp crack echoed through the room. Kier was up on his knees, peeking into the nest.

“Which one? Can you see any cracks?” I asked.

“Not yet.”

Our eldest egg—and only boy—rolled into the center of the nest. A tiny white egg tooth poked through a small hole in the otherwise pristine shell.

“Do you see that?” I asked. I sucked in a breath and held it, waiting for whatever might happen next.

“I see it.”

The smallest egg rolled also, hitting her brother. A similar crack marred her shell.

“It’s a race now!” Kier said.

Not to be outdone, the middle egg joined the other too.

Each of them pushed at the inner walls of the eggs. The broken shells strained under the pressure, until all at once, all three of them burst from the confines of their shells.

There in the center of the nest were three perfect dragonets.

I gasped as I took in the sight of them.

Kier’s hands covered his mouth, his eyes wide. He let out a laugh. “That happened so fast. I didn’t even get to see much. They just... burst free!”

“They did. We’ll have to watch the camera and play it in slow motion.”

“No kidding.”

Our little girl who came from the middle-born egg was the color of a ripe strawberry. Her scales were rounded, her wings fluffed out, and she flapped them carefully.

Our son, whose scales were blood orange, let out a chirp, startling the youngest dragonet. She rolled backward, her wings getting caught under her.

“Ope! Careful there, little one.” I reached into the nest and gently lifted her into my arms.

She wiggled against my hold. Her scales were smooth and cool to the touch. “Hey there,” I said. My voice cracked with emotion. “I’m your daddy.”

Kier leaned closer, his gaze fixed on our dragonets. Their gazes scanned the room, seeing the world outside their shells for the first time. “Hello, my loves,” he said. “Oh, you are all so perfect. Come to Daddy!”

The other two scrambled over to them, tripping over their feet and wings, but eventually making it to Kier’s lap. He kissed the tops of their heads. “I can’t believe you are all here.”

“Can you believe we made them? These are our babies, Kier.”

“They are. And they are so perfect.”

We both held them for a long time. The two of us climbed into the nest, pushing aside the broken shells. Eventually we would gather those shells and save the pieces. For now, we cuddled together as a family.

My father came in quietly. He settled next to the nest. Our three dragons asleep in our arms.

“I sensed they had come. I was right,” he said, his voice choked with emotion.

“Aren’t they beautiful?” Kier asked. “Your first grand-dragons.”

“They are. Have you named them?”

I looked to Kier, and he nodded. We had discussed names already and had tried them out while our babies were in their shells. We had made our decision.

“This is Opaline,” I said, gently lifting the dragonet in my arms and placing it in my father’s.

“Beautiful name,” he said.

“And I have Flint. Our lone boy.”

“And what about her?” My father indicated the strawberry-colored one.

“Ruby.”

She let out a pleased chirp, sounding nearly like a whistle.

“I think she likes it,” Kier said.

“Indeed.”

With my hands free, I took the opportunity to put my arm around my mate and pull him into my lap. He still held our other two children.

I kissed his lips softly. “They are amazing, love. Just like you.”

“Hmm. I was thinking they took after their alpha father.”

“A perfect mix of both of us.”