Epilogue
Cassius
Ilay in the bathtub like I often did for my heats.
Malin stayed outside the tub leaning over the edge to massage me. The cramps were terrible. But I wasn’t in heat. I was giving birth to an egg.
“Lie still and let me help,” Malin said softly. His fingers slid into my hole.
Together, we had decided on a water birth.
“That helps a lot.” I leaned back, able to take a deeper breath.
His fingers rubbed my channel, pressing and tapping at the sides. My body felt blocked and strange. A contraction hit and I moaned, pushing.
The doctor was a phone call away but as long as I was healthy and showed no signs of problems, we could do this ourselves.
“You’re doing great,” Malin said. His free hand made soft circles over my protruding belly. “You’re opening nicely.”
“Is it too late to change my mind?” I asked after the contraction passed.
“I’d do it for you if I could.”
Malin had been so supportive during my entire pregnancy. He gave me massages, both internal and external, any time I wanted. If I craved something, he got it for me. If I wanted a softer pillow, he brought it. When my belly grew bigger, he told me I was beautiful every single day.
I leaned into another contraction.
“They’re coming faster,” he observed. “It’ll be over soon, little wolf.”
“Easy for you to say,” I panted.
Another contraction took my breath.
Malin’s fingers gently moved in and out of me. “I think I felt something move.”
“Really?” Because I didn’t. “I hope you’re right.”
After two more contractions, finally I detected movement within. “I felt something.”
“Go with it. But wait for the contraction.”
“I am. But it feels like that’s all I’m doing. Waiting.”
“Do you need a little more warm water?”
I nodded as he turned on the faucet. Warmth embraced all around my lower half. It helped my body relax. Then another contraction doubled me over. I bore down.
“Yes. Keep going. Good news. My fingers can feel the nose of the egg.”
The contractions were back-to-back now. Sweat poured down the sides of my face. “Cooler water now, please,” I begged.
“You never lose your manners, do you? Even while giving birth.”
Now cooler water swirled around my body. The egg moved considerably at that point. It felt like it was close to my opening which had to be gaping wide by now.
Malin confirmed what I was feeling when he said, “I can see it.” His fingers circled my enlarged opening. There was no longer room for them inside.
The last contraction came and my muscles stretched impossibly tight, then there was a whoosh of water and a release inside my body that was ecstatic.
“It’s out!” Malin announced.
I sat up and looked down. There was a tiny bit of blood in the water but not much.
Malin held an egg in both hands, looking down at it. The shell was a swirl of auroras against a dark background. Breathtaking. My head spun. This was our egg. Our baby. The shell matched Malinekan’s armor. He would be the most beautiful baby ever.
“He already looks like Malinekan,” I said.
Malin held the egg for me to touch and admire. After a few seconds, he said, “I’m putting it in the basket, all right? You can touch it all you want where it’s safe and warm.”
The basket had special egg pillows with soft centers.
The basket itself had a warming insulation that worked off rechargeable batteries.
We already had two hooked up, one as a backup because we were new parents and very cautious.
We had a special bin for the basket on the floor by our bed.
We didn’t want the egg high up in case it might fall.
I wanted to sleep with the egg but it was not recommended.
It was only the size of a loaf of bread and either of us might roll over on it and squish it.
This was the problem with humans having eggs.
A dragon would have made a nest high in a tree with sticks for the sides to make it strong.
His shape was made to sit on the egg to keep it warm and safe.
He had a special indented area on his abdomen that allowed the weight of the beast to stay off the egg. Humans weren’t so lucky.
“I’m taking the basket to the bin now,” Malin said. “I’ll be right back.”
Adrenaline still pumped through me, but I was exhausted.
Malin came back and lifted me out of the tub.
He carried me to the bed where he had spread out plush towels.
He sat me up against a pile of pillows, pulled the covers over my aching body and handed me a cold bottle of water.
He had everything ready for me. All organized.
I gulped down some water and that was all I remembered for the next twelve hours.
When I woke, my first words were, “The egg!”
Malin lay next to me fiddling on a tablet. He looked over at me. “Welcome back, sleepyhead. The egg is fine. I have the basket on my side. I’ve been checking it every hour.”
I sat up. “Can I see?”
He reached down and lifted the basket until it was between us.
The shell looked like a sky of nebulas. It was smooth as glass.
It took me back to the memory of the sphere I’d broken in Malin’s hoard room.
He had replaced it and put it with all the other spheres, over a hundred of them.
Had he been unconsciously collecting eggs before I met him?
I looked up at him with wide eyes. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“The most beautiful,” he replied.
The egg needed to incubate for about thirty days before our baby inside was ready to hatch.
The time seemed to go by slowly. We mostly stayed at home, not wanting to leave it for more than a couple hours at a time.
Even with backup batteries, we didn’t trust that it might get cold if we weren’t there to rescue it and hold it against our chests.
On day thirty, we brought the basket down to the living room and took turns watching it. When I saw the first pip, I shrieked. “Malin! Come quickly. It’s happening.”
Malin came running into the room. I pointed out the pip, a tiny crack in the shell. We both grinned at each other like we’d just won the world.
“Now don’t touch it. He has to do this himself,” Malin said.
“I know.”
It took hours. Twelve in all. We took turns bringing in drinks and snacks so neither of us had to leave as we watched more pips form, then bigger cracks.
There was movement of the egg and then it would go still for an hour or two as our baby rested.
I hadn’t realized until now that hatching was such a major chore.
Especially for a baby dragon who didn’t know what world he was poking his head into.
We had been arguing over names for the past couple of weeks. He wanted Huxley. I wanted Sebastian. Now, as the egg was splitting open and we got glimpses of baby armor, we brought up the subject again. We still couldn’t agree.
“What about a combination of our names,” Malin suggested.
“Like Malius.”
“No. That sounds awful. What about Caslin?”
“Caslin.” I rolled the name around on my tongue. “Caslin. Wow, I really like that. It really does sound like a dragon’s name.”
“I like it, too. Agree?”
I leaned over the egg and kissed him. “Agree.”
Finally, our baby’s shell fell away revealing a tiny, dark armored dragon too cute for words.
“He’ll get his full coloring when he hits adolescence,” Malin said.
“Can I hold him?”
Malin nodded. “But careful. He’s about to shift. I can tell.”
I put my hands under the cool, reptilian body of our baby and lifted him out of the basket. He let out a cute snort followed by a single orange spark.
“Oh! Wow. He’s feisty.”
“It’s okay. He can’t burn you. He doesn’t have his real fire yet.” Malin’s voice was reassuring.
As I brought him up to eye level, I said, “Hi, baby. Hi, Caslin. I’m your papa. And look. This is your daddy.” I turned him.
Caslin rolled his head and a tingle went through my hands. Suddenly, the dragon was an infant boy cradled in my palms. “Oh my!”
Malin helped me wrap him in a soft baby blanket as he let out his first cry.
We spent our first evening with Caslin, both taking turns holding him. I fed him from my breast for the first time.
Malin called Tane to give him the good news. When he finished his call he came back into the living room and said, “Dad is so happy for us. He loves the name Caslin. He’s already begging to visit.”
“He’s welcome to,” I said.
“Also, more good news.”
“Not as good as our baby being born, though.” I had Caslin sleeping peacefully in the crook of my arm.
“Just about. It has to do with you.”
“Me?”
Malin sat by my side, his arm going over my shoulders. “You no longer belong to Brimstone.”
“Wh—what?”
“Dad had his lawyers sue them. I don’t know all the details yet, but I do know they reached a settlement and his lawyers are sending over the ownership papers.”
My mouth dropped open.
Malin kept talking. “You know I can’t release you. Technically, if I did, anyone could take over ownership. I would if I could, though. I don’t feel like I own you, Cassius. You’re mine, but you’re my mate. That’s how I use that word.”
“I’m not property of Brimstone anymore?”
“No.”
I started to cry, then laugh. “That is great news, I admit.” I wiped at my eyes. “I hope your dad’s lawyers made them suffer.”
Malin cupped my face. “I love you, little wolf.” He kissed me.
Just as we broke away, little Caslin’s eyes opened. He cooed when he saw both of us touching. We cooed back at him, laughing.
Our little family was just getting started.
THE END