Chapter Fourteen
Whisper
Nesting, as it turned out, was a communal affair. I’d wanted to fuck in my nest more than not, but we had to reserve ourselves to the bedroom for certain activities. Every omega in the keep wanted to snuggle my egg.
Two hatchlings, one nearing the size of a small lab and another tiny enough to cradle in my arms, snuggled with us, purring as they rubbed up against my lovely egg.
Little ticking noises and struggling sounds had been piquing my interest for a day or two, and we were all on edge waiting for a pip to happen.
Lyphus stroked the shell with the tip of his tail, huffing with a beautiful sort of joy. Aster perked up, drawing my attention. Cirue, the largest and most insistent of us, snorted himself awake as we stared at my shifting egg.
Scaled bodies pressed against me from all angles. The two babes snuggled so close to me, padding the egg from the world itself as a tiny, clear talon popped free, tugging down.
Snorts of excitement, chirps of joy, all rang out as we paid rapt attention to the little egg. The silvery, textured surface had grown lumpy over time, and it strained as that single claw ripped a jagged slit then another, the intersecting lines popping open as thick, clear liquid spilled free.
My little one yawned, opening a toothless mouth and coughed, spitting up the viscous fluid as it flopped onto the floor beside its clanmates.
Instinct told me to lick him clean, and I lapped his skin from nose to tail tip, cleaning his wings and feet until the beautifully speckled hide of a little silvery dragon breathed its first unobstructed breath.
A shout of excitement roared out, and my mate would be on his way, no doubt.
The little one made a few coughing noises, breathy and voiceless as my stomach clenched. I prayed he had a voice, that his nerves weren’t trapped behind unreleased scales. That he had words to cry out, sound to alert me.
Tears stung my dragon’s eyes as my babe stared up at me. Rosy irises, deeper and darker than my own, pinned and focused, forming his first bond from his papa to his baba, to his Zaza Aster and Zaza Cirue, a term they’d agreed upon.
Marcus appeared in the doorway as the alphas jogged in with him. I nudged my little one out of the circle of omegas to walk shakily out of our nest. Go on, little one. Say hello to your father.
The babe glanced from Marcus to Malkim to Morris and Atkin in confusion.
I gave a little coo from my draconic throat, urging our little one to approach. With shivering steps on all fours, our little one butted his head against Marcus’s leg and let loose a softer version of my pleading coo.
Marcus lifted the little one to his chest and smiled, letting the other alphas study our precious little one.
“What name will you give him?” Morris stroked over the tiny babe’s head and earned an affectionate lick.
I had practiced the word a thousand times, prepared to hear my tiny one’s voice. I was a whisper that gained sound. I was the cloud to the gray sky of my mate’s scales. Our little one had voice, and I shifted, stumbling nakedly out to hug Marcus and adore our little one.
Echo.
Because he would always have the words to return.