Chapter 16 - Larkin
SIXTEEN
LARKIN
I came home from the station to find every pillow in the apartment piled in the corner of the nursery.
They weren’t stacked but arranged. Percy had built a circular mound of cushions, blankets, every towel we owned, and shaped it like a wide, shallow bowl.
He was kneeling in the middle, rearranging a large blanket.
“Don't say anything.” He didn’t look up.
“I wasn't going to.”
“You were going to say it looks like a giant bird's nest.”
I protested. “What? No way. You can’t read my mind, but it, ummm, does look like one.”
Percy sat back on his heels and wiped sweat from his forehead. He was almost nine months, and because his belly was so big, he moved slowly and often cupped it with one or both hands.
“My dragon won't be quiet. He's been nagging me all day. More blankets, cushions there, and also pillows. The nest has to be softer and warmer, and that one goes on the left.”
We’d been expecting this because in the final weeks of their pregnancies, dragon shifters built nests guided by instinct.
“Can I help?”
“Get the blue blanket from the couch and the quilt that Briggs gave us.”
I brought both, and Percy wove them into the structure.
His arrangements were precise even though he'd never done this before.
His dragon was guiding him, and the result was a beautiful, warm, padded nest lined with soft fabric.
It was deep enough to cradle a body and wide enough for two so both my mate and I could lie in it.
“This is all for the egg.” My mate stroked the quilt. “My dragon has instructed me that the egg needs warmth from all sides and not just body heat.”
I knelt beside him and rested my hand on the small of his back.
His skin was warmer than usual, but that was what happened to dragon shifters before they laid an egg.
Tales passed down through the centuries told us this was the omega’s body preparing to deliver the egg by stoking an internal fire to give the egg everything it needed.
I gave Percy a thumbs-up. “Is it finished?”
“Almost.” He shifted a pillow an inch to the left. “Now it is.”
The rest of the evening we spent on the sofa. I rubbed my mate’s back while he dozed. Every so often he'd wake with a start and press a hand to his belly.
Is this it? my beast asked each time.
I’ll let you know.
When Percy climbed off the couch, I got up too, thinking we were going to bed.
“It's time.”
How does he know? my dragon asked.
Instinct, just as you understand how to fly and swoop and kill a deer.
We’d been anticipating this moment for months, and now that it was here, I wasn’t the calm, assured alpha who thought everything through. Our egg that was protecting our little one was coming.
This is not the moment to freak. Do that after the baby’s born. My dragon was telling me to get it together.
I helped my mate into the nursery and undressed him before he lowered himself into the nest. He got in the center on his knees and gripped the cushions. I crawled beside him as his breathing became slower and deeper than usual, and I was pretty sure his dragon was breathing with him.
Percy yelped, and his body tensed. He grabbed my hand and squeezed. Wow, he had quite a grip. “It’s a cramp.” He groaned, and his head fell forward.
“I’m right here. My dragon and I will breathe with you and your beast.”
Percy panted, and I mimicked him. My chest heaved as my beast did the same. I wished there was more I could do as I wiped sweat off my mate’s face.
When the cramping passed, he leaned against me. “That hurt.”
“On a scale of one to ten?”
“Twelve. And don't you dare make a Station 12 joke.”
My dragon warmed my palms, and I pressed them on my mate’s back, hoping it would ease his discomfort.
“That feels good.”
The cramping came in waves, and the interval between each got smaller. Between each one, he complained the egg was taking its time, and during the peak of a contraction, all four of us, including the dragons, breathed and willed the egg to arrive safely.
The contractions were a minute apart, and Percy murmured as if he was in a trance, “Pain with a purpose.”
I rubbed his back and told him how well he was doing, until he asked me to distract him. I told him of the first time I met my dragon and he took his scales. Heat had been building inside me, and I raced out to the woods behind our house and waited to transform.
“Keep going.”
“That night we flew so close to the stars, or so I thought. I expected to touch them, until my dragon said we could admire them, but we only reach them in our dreams.”
“That’s so beautiful.”
My mate had been laboring for hours and the egg hadn’t appeared, but the cramps were so close together, he wasn’t able to recover between each one.
“I’m going to push, Larkin. Don’t let the egg break, please.”
The egg would be well protected by the nest, but I piled more blankets beneath him. “Gods, it’s huge. How does the universe expect me to push that out?”
“I’m right here, and we are going to meet our egg very soon.”
Humans were fortunate in that they got to meet the baby immediately, whereas we had to coddle the egg until the baby decided to hatch.
Poor Percy. There was no color in his knuckles as he gripped the blankets.
His head drooped while I whispered encouragement.
With my heated hands on him, he pushed, and I waited, expecting the egg to be here.
Another push, and a groan followed by more pushing.
He shuddered and moaned and sobbed that he didn’t know where the egg was.
One more push and the egg appeared, nestled in the blankets. Percy had joked about watermelons and basketballs, but the egg was huge. It radiated heat and had silver veins across the blue-gray surface.
Percy collapsed, and I pulled a blanket around his shoulders. We stared at our egg. Our baby was curled inside, and my dragon was impatient to meet our little one.
“The egg isn’t cracked, is it?”
“It’s just as it’s supposed to be, beautiful, and the shell is strong.”
Percy was crying and so was I. My beast was sobbing, making my shoulders shake and giving me indigestion.
Percy reached out and touched the shell. “Oh, our egg is warm, so the baby is healthy.”
We nudged the egg to the center of the nest and curved our bodies around it. Percy was on one side and me on the other so our combined heat wrapped the shell in warmth.
“My dragon is singing. I hope the baby can hear it so they know it’s safe to hatch.”
“Mine too. Maybe they can form a choir.”
My mate patted my hand. “Leave the jokes to me, love.”
I’d hatched after five days, Percy after three, but it could take as long as a week.
“A week of lying in a nest.” He closed his eyes. “I’ve had worse assignments.”
We took turns. One of us was always with the egg while the other ate or showered. My parents called every day, and my mother cried when I described the egg. Percy's dads came over and admired their grand-egg.
On the third day, a tiny crack appeared.
Percy sat up, and his hand hovered over the shell. “Larkin, come here now.”
I dropped the coffee I was making and ran. The crack was thin and ran from the top of the shell in a jagged line. More cracks branched out from the first.
A tiny piece of shell fell onto the blankets. Through the gap, there was movement. More pieces broke off, and the egg rocked. Percy and I were holding hands, and my beast was telling the baby to hurry.
A tiny hand pushed through.
“Our baby,” we said in unison.” Our little one was working hard to meet us.
I peeled back the loosened shell, and our tiny daughter blinked and kicked her legs. She cried, and my dragon covered his ears with his wings. I lifted her up and placed her on Percy's chest. Her crying became whimpers until she quieted.
Like my daughter, I blinked to rid my eyes of tears as she opened her fist and grabbed Percy’s finger.
“Look what we did.” Percy kissed our little one. “Hello, Enya.”
I curled my body around them both as our daughter opened her eyes and yawned.
How is she tired? She’s been sleeping for months.
“I love you.” I kissed Enya. “And I love you too, Percy.” The words were easy, but they masked the huge emotions I didn’t know how to name. For now, love was enough.
“Love you right back.” My mate kissed our daughter's head, then mine. “But you're on diaper duty. I just did the hard part.”