Epilogue
Cyrus
When I gave my mate my scale, it hadn’t really been a choice. My dragon insisted that he have it, and all of me wanted him to as well. I hadn’t realized at the time that it was going to be the catalyst for my mate’s next step in his career, and yet here we were, heading down to Dragon Fest with our toddlers for his very first book signing for an adult series, The Dragon’s Lost Scale .
He’d worked on it while our eggs were chilling in the closet with him. It was the first project he’d ever done 100 percent digitally, and his agent had immediately fallen in love. It still had the flair and style of his work with the middle-grade books, but definitely felt far more adult. I’d already ready it a dozen times and probably would a dozen more within the next month. It was that good, and not just because he was my mate. Although, loving it for that reason alone would be valid.
It had been released less than a week ago, and already his agent said the numbers were showing it would be near the top of all the lists. I wasn’t surprised. The preorder numbers had been through the roof, thanks to some pretty decent marketing and some of his first readers now entering their college years.
I mated well. The man was brilliant and talented, and could weave a tale like no other.
We made the possibly foolish decision to walk to town with the triplets. With the festival in full swing, parking was going to be a disaster, and the weather was nice, so we figured why not? And the way there hadn’t been bad, but we still hadn’t gone home yet, to know if we could call it a success, just yet.
I had one toddler on my back in a baby carrier and another on the front, with Blaise holding my hand. My mate was pushing the stroller, knowing very well that this arrangement wouldn’t make it through the entire signing. We were optimistic, but also not fooling. The triple stroller was our fallback and, if all three needed to go in there as I paced the streets so my mate could be the fancy-shmancy author that he was, that’s what we’d do. At least the two I was wearing would probably fall asleep by the time we got there, making the odds of that more in my favor than they would be if the signing had been an hour in either direction.
Blaise was always our wild card when we went out. He was creative like his father, mischievous like me, and he had a whole lot of energy. In other words, he was pretty awesome—even if he did wear us out but also kept us on our toes. Today, he was proud to be “big” and so far had been doing amazingly well.
We arrived at the bookstore, coming in through the back, where Becky, the owner and her small staff had a whole dragon’s lair set up for my mate. We put Blaise in the stroller, telling him we were just going to watch while his daddy had some work to do. He didn’t seem to love it, but when people started coming in and talking about how adorable he was, he got over it right quick.
The bookstore had ordered boxes and boxes of Boen’s books. At first, I was worried that they wouldn’t sell enough to make the event worth it. Not because I didn’t think my mate’s books were great but because I didn’t think that many people could move through the store in the time slot we had. I was wrong.
The line was out the door the entire time. According to the owner, there had been a line down the block two hours before they even opened. We’d missed that, coming in from the back, and it was probably for the best. My mate had been nervous enough.
Not only was the line long, they were all about getting the new book, as well as his first series. Some people were buying two, three, even five copies as gifts, and each one of them gushed about how excited they were about the newest book. Some of the chapters had been released online earlier to generate buzz, and people were all in.
I stood back, watching him with pride as the piles of books dwindled and the empty boxes were taken out to the trash. Eventually, an hour later than planned, Becky locked the door, letting anyone inside get through, but not letting in any more. My mate was so popular, they had to turn people away. I could tell Boen didn’t love that, but sometimes, it was best to call it a day.
The store officially closed when the last person was let out and the owner locked up. To my mate’s surprise, the owner returned with their own pile of books.
“Do you mind?” she asked.
It wasn’t the first time she’d asked my mate for an autograph, but that didn’t stop her from having quite a few volumes at the ready.
“No, I don’t mind at all. I was excited to be here. It was probably my best signing ever.”
My mate reached into his bag and pulled out the box of crayons we’d bought the day he was nesting. He signed each of the books with a crayon. He hadn’t used them on all the books. Most of those he used either what they brought or a Sharpie. Now that I thought about it, quite a few people had given him a crayon.
It wasn’t until the owner, remembering the purchase Boen had made when nesting, asked if him having the crayons in his satchel was the reason why one of his characters always had them in their computer bag.
My mate smiled and said, “Yeah,” not offering up more information. They didn’t need to know that he picked them up while nesting because he liked the way they smelled or that he kept them by his side as our eggs readied to hatch, or how he used the purple one to number them so he could be sure not to lose track of which came out first.
He packed up the few supplies he had.
“Omega mine, are you ready to go home?”
Blaise had fallen asleep in the stroller, and the other two were probably due to wake up soon. That was the thing with triplets; sometimes two of them would be on the same schedule, but never ever all three, unless it was time to change a poopy diaper—that always came in threes.
“Or we could look around and maybe stop for some cupcakes?” My mate and his cupcakes, although to be fair, they were pretty fantastic.
He brought his satchel over and put it in one of the empty stroller seats, and we started to leave.
The bookstore owner called out to him, “Hey, you forgot your crayon!”
“I’ll get it,” I said.
When I went to put the crayon back in his bag, I saw the box that held my scale. He’d brought it with him to the signing for the book inspired by that very scale.
“Are you okay?” Boen asked, looking at me.
“Oh, I’m better than okay. I’m the happiest dragon that ever there was.”
“Well, that’s good because I’m the happiest dragon’s mate.” He rubbed his cheek against mine. “I love you, Cyrus.”
“Not as much as I love you, omega mine. Not as much as I love you.”
“Is that love enough to warrant a trip to the bakery?”
“That love is enough to give you everything within my power—including cupcakes.”
“Cupcakes. It must be love.”
Read on for a peek at Overbooked at Dragon’s Landing