Chapter 31 #2
They rumble back and forth for several minutes, their draconic communication like distant thunder, before he smiles and pushes the plate away. The scent of the rejected sausage, heavy with pepper and sage, still lingers between them.
“She doesn’t like the sausage. She says it’s spicy and makes her stomach hurt. Lily would like either the breakfast ham or bacon, if possible.” He smiles before kissing her temple, his lips leaving a faint impression on her soft skin that fades quickly like a whisper.
“Oh, okay, that’s easy enough to fix.” I get up, my chair scraping against the floor, and grab several pieces of bacon that crackle and gleam with fat, along with some cubes of breakfast ham, its glazed surface catching the light.
The savory aroma intensifies as I arrange them on a fresh plate, the warmth seeping through the ceramic and into my fingers.
No sooner do I slide the plate in front of her than she eats, her tiny teeth tearing into the meat with surprising strength, the sound of her satisfied chewing oddly comforting.
Arching a brow, I glance from her to my babies, their faces smeared with egg and jam, then back to Klauth.
“When do you think they will start talking? I mean, I know our species grow at different speeds and all.” I refill the twins’ plates while I wait for an answer, the clatter of serving spoons against serving dishes punctuating the morning quiet.
“Your progeny are half dragon, so it may slow how fast they grow,” he says, his voice rumbling deep in his chest like stones tumbling down a mountainside.
“I would say you should start getting words out of them between ten and eighteen months old.” He takes a sip of his coffee, watching the little ones eat over the rim of his mug.
The steam curls upward, caressing his face before dissipating into the cool air.
“Thankfully, their beasts can speak for them to convey their needs. Your children speak both displacer and dragon, correct?” He tilts his head, looking at my daughters, the movement causing his hair to shift, revealing the sharp angles of his face.
“I think so. I know they understand me and Mina, so yeah.” I tilt my head, looking at him, feeling the weight of my damp hair against my neck. “Do you think all the hatchlings will understand both species’ shifts?”
Klauth stares into his coffee mug for a moment, his reflection distorted in the dark liquid.
“Maybe. Your babies are the exception, not the rule. They are almost an even split between both parents. We’ll have to see.
” He takes another sip of his coffee, the bitter aroma briefly intensifying, and then pauses when Lily rumbles to him, the sound making the spoons on the table vibrate slightly.
He rumbles back and laughs, the unexpected sound warming the room like sudden sunshine.
“Lily would like the nuggets Leander makes for lunch if possible. She figured she would ask now while I am here to tell you.” Klauth slowly stands, his joints popping softly, and kisses Lily on the top of her head, his lips lingering against her dark curls, and does the same with my twins, the scent of his cologne—something ancient and spicy—briefly enveloping them.
“Have a great day, everyone,” he says as he leaves to start his day, his footsteps fading down the hallway like retreating thunder.
I look back at the children as they finish their meals, the sounds of their satisfaction—little hums and sighs—filling the kitchen.
Mina makes it all look so easy, her movements always graceful even with the three hatchlings demanding her attention.
Maybe it’s just a mom thing? When the little ones finish eating, I wash their hands and faces, the warm water turning their cheeks pink, before sitting them in the cart to roll them into the playroom.
The wheels squeak slightly on the hardwood, a rhythmic complaint that somehow soothes the babies.
The minute I set them on the ground, they shift—their bodies rippling and changing with soft popping sounds, the air briefly filled with the scent of ozone and something wild—and start running around playing.
Their scaled bodies gleam under the lights, tiny claws clicking against the floor, tails sweeping behind them like living pendulums. Glancing at the clock, its steady ticking marking time like a heartbeat, I know they usually run around for about an hour to two before nap time, their energy eventually burning out in a predictable pattern.
After lunch, which fills the kitchen with the scent of Leander’s famous chicken nuggets—crispy on the outside, tender within, seasoned with herbs that make even my mouth water—I take them to the lower level to the hatchling nursery to play with the others.
It’s Cora’s day to watch over the hatchlings, so at least they get to play with their cousins while they’re there, their excited chirps and rumbles echoing off the stone walls as soon as they sense their kin.
It makes me wonder; the thought settling in my mind like a stone dropped into still water, creating ripples of possibility.
What if one of Mina’s hatchlings yet to be born is a mate to Cora’s hatchlings or one of the others in the nursery?
The idea sends a shiver down my spine. Not unpleasant but heavy with possibility.
In our world of predestined pairs and ancient bloodlines, the future might already be written in the interactions of these tiny beings, their playful nips and affectionate head-butts perhaps the first chapter in a story that will span centuries.
Ziggy: Just had a thought. Can a hatchling recognize another hatchling is its future mate?
Callan: What made you think of that?
Balor: I’m not sure. Basilisks can’t sense their mates until they hit eighteen for males and I think twenty for females.
Klauth: Dragons, the males can tell as young as five. Females, I believe its after they have their first heat cycle.
Thauglor: Females will be drawn to their “mate” but not know that he is her mate until after her first fertile period.
Mina: Why are we worried about that? Did something happen? Do I need to come home? Who am I torching?
I stare at Mina’s message and feel the tightness through the bond from her.
Ziggy: Nothing happened. Just trying to understand how things work with dragons. With all the flights hatchlings in one place, they may over time find their mates. I wanted to know what to watch for.
Mina: …
Abraxis: Good looking out. The oldest hatchling downstairs I believe is three so we have two years before it may be a concern.
Leander: Why would it be a concern? I would be happy if my child found their mate.
Callan: With as rare as mates are for the general population, I would be happy if my child found their mate.
Balor: Are you abolishing the dragon mate first rule?
I watch the hatchlings yawning as they head to the furs in the corner of the playroom. They curl up together with Lily in the middle. She stretches her wings over my twins and they fall asleep.
Klauth: It’s on the list. We are still fighting with clans about the betrothal system. Once that’s handled, that rule is the next to go.
Ziggy: Sends a short video of the way the babies are curled up together, taking their nap.
Multiple messages arrive oohs and ahh’s fill the screen. I set my phone down and shift. I stretch my feline body out before curling up around the hatchlings. My tentacle closest to them lays over their bodies to alert me to any movement.
A nap sounds divine.