Chapter Twenty-One
Sobek stood in the center of the nursery - the seventeenth version of his preferred layout in the past two weeks - and frowned at the crib placement.
No, it was still wrong. The crib was too far from the door, and a threat could reach the baby before he intercepted.
With a thought, he shifted the crib eight inches to the left. It was much better there. And then the changing table should be closer to the window for natural light, but not directly beneath it where drafts might…
“Sobek.”
He turned to find Rudy leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in that expression that meant Sobek was about to be lectured.
“Hi, Sunshine.” Sobek tried a smile.
“Don’t you ‘hi sunshine’ me. What are you doing?”
“I’m just tweaking a few things so that the nursery layout is optimized for maximum safety and efficiency.”
“Uh-huh.” Rudy pushed off the doorframe and crossed to the crib, which now sat at a forty-five-degree angle to the door instead of perpendicular. “And how many times have you ‘optimized’ this room this week?”
“This is only the third time.”
“That’s today. I asked about the week…”
Sobek shifted his weight. “We need to be adequately prepared in all things.”
“The baby won’t be here for seven more months.” Rudy patted the crib railing. “And this furniture has been in five different spots since breakfast. I know because I checked on you after my second trip to pee - pregnancy is glamorous, thanks for asking - and the whole room was rearranged.”
Through their bond, Sobek felt Rudy’s amusement mixed with exasperation. “I’m just making sure…”
“You’re nesting.”
The term made Sobek frown. “I don’t nest. I’m a crocodile god, not a…”
“You’re absolutely nesting.” Rudy crossed the room and took Sobek’s face between his hands. “And it’s adorable, but babe, you need to stop. This nursery is perfect. It’s been perfect since version four.”
Sobek cast his mind back - there had been a lot of variations since version four. “Version seven had superior structural reinforcement.”
“Version seven had a moat.”
“It was only a little moat.”
“It was inside the house. We don’t need a moat.”
Sobek pulled Rudy closer, settling his hands on his mate’s hips.
Two months into the pregnancy, Rudy wasn’t showing yet, but Sobek could sense the life growing stronger every day.
His crocodile side remained in a constant state of alert, monitoring every heartbeat, every breath, cataloging potential threats, determined to eliminate them before they materialized.
“I just want everything ready,” Sobek admitted quietly.
“I know.” Rudy’s expression softened. “But the baby doesn’t need seventeen different nursery configurations. They need parents who aren’t exhausted from constant renovations. So here’s what’s going to happen: you’re banned from changing this room again.”
“Rudy…”
“Banned. No more furniture rearranging, no more color scheme adjustments, no more magical additions. This room is done.” Rudy kissed him firmly. “Okay?”
Sobek opened his mouth to protest, registered the determination flowing through their bond, and sighed. “Fine.”
“Thank you.” Rudy glanced around the nursery, which currently featured soft green walls, white furniture, and a mobile of handcrafted wooden animals Sobek had commissioned from a master craftsman in Norway. “It really is beautiful. You did an amazing job.”
Pride surged through Sobek’s chest. “You like it?”
“I love it. The whole room feels peaceful and safe.” Rudy’s hand drifted to his stomach in that unconscious gesture he’d developed. “Our baby’s going to be so happy here.”
Sobek covered Rudy’s hand with his own, magic pulsing to check - yes, heartbeat strong, development progressing perfectly. “They will be.”
“Papa. Dad.”
Rose’s voice echoed from downstairs, followed by thundering footsteps. She burst into the nursery seconds later, Jack and Timothy close behind. All three children skidded to a halt, staring around the room.
“You changed it again,” Jack observed.
“For the last time,” Rudy said firmly. “Right, Sobek?”
“Right.”
Timothy approached the crib, running small fingers along the railing. “It’s nice. The baby will like it.”
“But it’s kind of...” Rose tilted her head, studying the pristine walls. “Boring?”
Sobek stiffened. “Boring?”
“She means plain,” Jack clarified quickly, shooting Rose a warning look. “Not bad. Just...neutral. Empty.”
“The nursery is designed for….”
“What if we helped decorate?” Timothy interrupted, still focused on the crib. “We could make it special for our sibling.”
Through their bond, Sobek felt Rudy’s interest spark. “What did you have in mind?” He really was a fan of the minimal aesthetic. The nursery was the only calmly painted room in the house.
Rose bounced on her toes. “We could paint. Like in our rooms, but for the baby.”
“Paintings of what?” Sobek was sure he was going to regret asking.
“Family,” Jack said simply. “All of us together. So the baby knows they belong.”
Oh, shit. Something softened in Sobek’s chest. He looked at the bare walls, imagining them covered in artwork created by three children who’d claimed his heart as thoroughly as their father had.
“That’s a wonderful idea,” Rudy said, squeezing Sobek’s hand. “What do you think?”
Sobek met three hopeful gazes and felt his resistance crumble entirely. “I think the baby would love art created by their siblings.”
Rose whooped and sprinted from the room. Jack followed at a more measured pace, already planning out loud where each painting should go. Timothy lingered, looking up at Sobek with those serious eyes.
“You’re worried,” the boy observed quietly.
Sobek crouched to Timothy’s level. “I want everything perfect for them.”
“It doesn’t have to be perfect.” Timothy’s small hand found Sobek’s. “It just has to be ours. That’s what makes it safe.”
Wisdom from a four-year-old. Sobek pulled Timothy into a hug, feeling the child’s trust and love through their bond. “You’re right. Thank you.”
Timothy squeezed back before squirming free and running after his siblings.
“Out of the mouths of babes,” Rudy murmured.
“He’s perceptive.”
“He learned from the best.” Rudy tugged Sobek toward the door. “Come on. Let’s supervise this art project before Rose decides finger-painting the ceiling is a good idea.”
/~/~/~/~/
Two hours later, Sobek stood in the nursery doorway watching controlled chaos unfold - “controlled” being a generous assessment.
Rose had paint smeared from her elbows to her fingertips, splatters decorating her face like war paint.
She stood on a step stool, carefully finger painting a black panther on one wall, tongue poking out in concentration.
Jack worked slowly on an adjacent wall, brush strokes forming a gray wolf mid-leap.
Timothy knelt on spread newspapers, painting what appeared to be a crocodile family in a pond - two large crocodiles and one small hatchling.
Rudy supervised from a chair Sobek had conjured, feet propped up, eating pickle spears dipped in peanut butter.
“That combination cannot taste good,” Sobek said.
“It’s delicious.” Rudy crunched another bite, making a satisfied noise. “Salty, sweet, and sour. Perfect.”
Sobek’s crocodile side preened at providing what his mate needed, regardless of how bizarre the craving. Over the past week, Rudy had requested strawberries with hot sauce, ice cream on pizza, and yesterday’s truly baffling combination of chocolate cake with sardines.
Sobek had provided everything without comment. His mate was growing their child. Rudy could eat literal garbage if it made him happy.
“Dad, look.” Rose gestured proudly at her panther. “I gave her spots like mine.”
Rudy leaned forward to examine the painting. “She’s beautiful, sweetheart. Very fierce.”
“She’s protecting the family.” Rose added more black paint to the panther’s outstretched claws. “Like I’ll protect the baby.”
“We all will,” Jack added without looking up from his wolf. He’d given the animal golden eyes - eyes that were just like Sobek’s. “Nobody’s going to hurt them. Ever.”
Timothy remained silent, focused entirely on his crocodile family. He’d painted the larger crocodiles facing outward, a protective stance, while the small hatchling swam safely between them.
Sobek’s heart seemed to swell even though he knew that was impossible.
These children understood family, understood protection, in ways most adults never would.
They’d lost their first families to violence and cruelty.
They’d found each other and Rudy through chance and a helping hand from the Fates.
And now they were building something new together, something stronger precisely because they knew how fragile happiness could be.
“I think that wall’s done,” Rudy said, pointing to the space beside Jack’s wolf. “Sobek, you should add something. So the baby has art from everyone.”
Sobek blinked. “I’m not the artistic type.”
“Neither am I, but I’ll be painting too once you conjure me a really long brush, so I don’t have to get up.” Rudy grinned. “Come on. This is a family project.”
Rose thrust a paintbrush at him. “Do a crocodile. A big one.”
“But I already did crocodiles,” Timothy protested.
“Then Papa can do something else.” Jack tilted his head. “What about the lotus flower from your claiming mark?”
Sobek glanced down at his chest where the golden lotus remained visible beneath his shirt. The flower that symbolized his bond with Rudy, their eternal connection.
“That’s perfect,” Rudy said softly, meeting Sobek’s eyes. “So the baby knows we’re all bound together.”
Sobek took the offered paintbrush, magic steadying his hand as he approached the one bare wall space. He’d manifested palaces, commanded the Nile, and bent reality itself to his will for as long as he could remember. Surely, it wouldn’t be that difficult to paint one flower.
He started with the center, building outward in careful strokes.
It wouldn’t be as detailed as his magical claiming mark, but it was recognizable.
The lotus flower was a symbol of rebirth and eternal life, which was totally appropriate for the child who would be born immortal, blessed by the bond between a god and his precious mate.
Rose climbed down from her stool and pressed against his side, watching. “It’s pretty.”
“Very pretty,” Jack agreed.
Timothy abandoned his crocodile painting and joined them, all three children clustered around Sobek as he finished the lotus. When he stepped back, Rose immediately grabbed a different brush and added small golden stars around the flower.
“For magic,” she explained. “Because Papa’s magic.”
Jack added silver swirls connecting the lotus to his wolf. Timothy painted a tiny hatchling at the flower’s base.
“Now they’re all connected,” Timothy said with satisfaction. “See? The baby’s in the middle, and we’re all around them, keeping them safe.”
Sobek’s throat got a sudden lump. Through their bond, he felt Rudy’s emotions of joy, gratitude, and unconditional love. He turned to find his mate crying silently, one hand pressed to his stomach.
“Sunshine?”
“They’re perfect.” Rudy’s voice cracked. “The paintings, the children, everything. This is...” He gestured helplessly at the walls now covered in colorful, slightly chaotic family artwork. “This is home.”
Sobek crossed the room and pulled Rudy to his feet, embracing him carefully. “Yes. It is.”
Rose, Jack, and Timothy piled into the hug, forming a familiar tangle of limbs and love. They stood together in the nursery surrounded by paint-splattered newspapers and drying artwork, and Sobek felt something he’d sought for thousands of years finally settle into place - belonging.
For centuries, he’d wandered alone, watching other gods find their mates, build their families, create homes. He’d told himself he preferred solitude. That he didn’t need the complications of family or the vulnerability of love. I was so wrong.
Rudy’s warmth against his chest, three children pressed close, and a new life growing were worth more than the entire realm - his amazing family was worth every lonely minute that came before.
“I love you, sunshine,” he murmured into Rudy’s curls.
“Love you too.” Rudy pulled back enough to look at the walls. “Though you’re still banned from rearranging anything in here.”
“Even if…”
“Banned.”
Rose giggled, Jack smiled, and Timothy just squeezed his arms tighter around Sobek’s legs.
“Understood,” he said. Even a god knew when they were outnumbered.
Later, after the children were bathed and the paint mostly scrubbed from various surfaces - Rose had somehow gotten green in her hair - Sobek returned to the nursery.
The paintings had dried, and the additional colors were bright against the soft green walls.
His lotus flower sat in the center, surrounded by the children’s additions, connecting all their artwork into one cohesive mural.
It was a perfect representation of the messy, slightly weird, and totally happy family that lived under the one roof.
“Welcome,” he whispered to the baby who wouldn’t arrive for months yet. “We’re ready for you. Your father, your siblings, and me. We’ll keep you safe. Always.”
Through the bond, he felt Rudy’s sleepy contentment, his mate’s awareness even in dreams. Sobek sent love back through their connection before leaving the nursery, closing the door softly behind him.