Chapter Eighteen
Ronan
There was no better feeling than having my brother back with me again.
Knowing he was going to be here when the twins were born was a special kind of joy.
Laying there in the dark, snuggling with my mate, I felt one of the eggs shift and rubbed the spot, excited to meet them and introduce them to Upalo, Canyon and Kes.
Dragon babies imprinted on everyone in their families, learning early who was safe and could be counted on for nurturing and protection.
I’d learned that from Alex while I’d been seated on the couch in his living room, Luna cuddled in my arms, sleepy eyed and asking for a story.
“See, you’re already bonding,” Alex said as he passed me a book.
Looking down into that sweet face while I read her story gave me my first glimpse of what life with my girls would be like.
I’d never seen anything more adorable than little Luna laying there, eyes fluttering, fighting sleep so she could hear every word.
By the time I reached the end of the book and kissed her cheek as she lay there sleeping, the other dragonets were gathered around my feet, staring up at me.
Alex just giggled and passed me another book, which I read to them with Luna sleeping soundly in my arms. Instead of awkwardly struggling with how to hold her, while holding it and turning the pages, it came naturally enough that I even managed to turn the book around to show them the pictures.
“Soon,” I whispered as I slid from the bed and waddled to the bathroom.
They dug into my bladder more with every step, as if to say very soon.
And we still didn’t have a nest.
A horrifying thought swept through me as I relieved myself.
What if we still didn’t have a nest when the eggs came?
We’d have no place safe to snuggle our eggs.
Surely not on the bed where one errant rock or wiggle might send them toppling off.
The thought of one of my eggs striking the hard bedroom floor sent a cold chill through me.
Eggs on the bed was out of the question!
They would have a thick, round, fluffy nest to protect them, and they would have it today.
Determined, I finished up, washed my hands, and waddled to the nursery. All of the blankets had been washed and folded neatly in towering piles, leaving me with the daunting task of figuring out where to begin.
I eyed them up and down, looking for something that might help me decide, but all the colors were pretty and soothing, and none of the patterns stood out as ones I’d absolutely have to have on the top of the nest.
But I would want the softest.
We’d gone primarily for thick, fluffy fleece and the softest faux fur, so plush my hand sunk into the fibers when I stroked them.
Those were the ones I wanted on top. The warmth from the fluffy faux fur and the heat of our bodies would keep them toasty while they finished growing.
Mind made up, I began dividing the piles into top section and bottom, no easy task when some of the blankets were so thick I couldn’t wrap my arms all the way around them with my belly in the way.
The neat stacks had been reduced to messy piles, while unearthing one rather significant obstacle to my nest building task.
The blankets smelled wrong.
Every one of them smelled like fabric softener, not sunshine.
That just wouldn’t do.
I glanced between the blanket mounds and my sleeping mate on the bed in the other room.
He had patrol tonight. Waking him wouldn’t be fair.
The long flights and constant vigilance were exhausting, especially for a fun-loving dragon like Odem.
Out of all the brothers, he was always the first one to get down on the floor and crawl around with the dragonets, and the one who typically wound up covered in whatever they were eating, because he never said no to ‘up’ even when sticky hands waved at him.
Our girls were going to have him wrapped around their tiny fingers the moment they waved their wings at him.
As I carried the first blankets over to the bed, I was reminded of the way he pressed his ear to my belly every time one of them giggled, and the way he’d lean over and whisper for them to behave whenever they started rolling around inside me so much they made me cranky.
They owned him heart and soul already. Those fluttery wings were just going to be the icing on the cake when we finally got to see them.
Carefully, so as to not wake him, I peeled the blankets off him and replaced them with the ones for the nest, layering them on his arms, legs, and torso, to get his scent all over them.
It was a slow process, with quick cat naps cuddled to him and the blankets, but over the course of the day, I got the base of the nest built to my satisfaction.
It took up the bulk of the nursery floor, but there was plenty of space for us to curl up with our eggs.
Feeling rather proud of myself, and hungry, now that the room snacks were gone, I carried a few more of the faux fur blankets over and spread them across him, hoping he’d wake up soon and feed our hungry, growing butterflies.
I never meant for one of the blankets to tickle his nose and make him snort.
Fortunately, he wasn’t a dragonet, so no errant flames appeared the way they sometimes did from Alex’s twins.
Their adorable cherub faces would flush as they swiftly apologized for whatever had gotten singed, or in some cases, like with Ionus’ newspaper, completely gone up in flames.
“Mate,” Odem rumbled. “What are you doing?”
“Shhh, just lay there, look pretty, and come up with a sticky sweet breakfast with a side of meat,” I insisted as I finished smoothing the blankets over him.
He chuckled at that, then laughed outright when I lifted his arm so I could tuck the blanket beneath it.
“These are supposed to be for the nest,” he insisted, stroking his fingers through the softness.
“They still are,” I explained. “But they smelled like fabric softener. I wanted them to smell like sunshine, so I’ve been putting them on you before adding them to the nest.”
“You started the nest? When?”
“A few hours ago,” I explained. “Our pokey eggs shifted around, so of course I had to pee. One look at myself in the mirror and another errant poke and I knew it was time to make the nest. Our eggs will not be going on the bed to suffer a Humpty-Dumpty moment!”
“No, absolutely not,” he said. “But you must be exhausted. Why didn’t you wake me to help?”
“Not tired at all,” I declared. “I’ve been napping in between batches, waiting for enough of your scent to get on them before I took them back to the nursery. Your only task is to lie there and pet the blankets. Then could you please make breakfast?”
“Of course,” he replied, still stroking the blankets, that warm, sunshiny scent filling my nose with every pass of his hand. “Something sticky and sweet with a side of meat, huh? Is that what you’re craving this morning?”
“Yes, and before you even think about it, I do not mean your cock slathered in syrup. I’ll take that for dessert, if you don’t mind.”
“Really?” he purred. “I’m sure I can arrange something to your liking.”
“I know you can.”
We snuggled with the blankets while I caressed his face and felt him nuzzle my hand.
I never would have thought my mate, with the reputation he had around town, would respond to my touch that way, but there he was, actively seeking affection.
I was more than happy to give it to him, too.
My brain couldn’t even fathom centuries.
The short time I’d spent missing my mother and brother, longing for a sense of family and home, seemed pathetically short in comparison to how long he’d spent waiting for his fated mate to appear.
Waiting for me.
I rubbed noses with him and peppered kisses along his cheek and jaw, stroked his hair, and lay there enjoying the stillness of the morning with him.
Before too long, my growling stomach and the knowledge that he’d catch an earful from Ionus if he was late to patrol, forced us from the warmth of the bed.
He headed downstairs to make breakfast, with a promise to carry me down when it was ready, while I made another slow trip to the bathroom, then back to the bed to gather the sunshine scented blankets and add them to the nest while he cooked.
He found me curled up in the middle of it, still incomplete, but there would be no finishing until he put his scent all over the rest of the blankets.
I was reading to my belly, rubbing over the eggs, which had settled into a less pokey position than they’d been in last night.
He stepped into the nest beside me, but instead of scooping me up, he sat down next to me and rubbed my stomach while I read to our girls.
“Your feast awaits,” he said, but only after the story was over.
A giant waffle covered my plate when he placed me in my chair at the kitchen table.
Sliced strawberries covered them, with a can of whipped cream sitting right beside a bottle of syrup.
Sausage links sat on a smaller plate beside it, and I grabbed one and took a big bite, chewing as I covered my waffle in a swirl of whipped cream.
“Mmm yum,” I hummed, biting off another piece of sausage before adding syrup.
“I’m glad you approve,” Odem said as he sat across from me to dig into his own plate.