12. Two Dragons, What Is My Life
TWO DRAGONS, WHAT IS MY LIFE
For a long moment, no one spoke. Emre gaped.
There were two dragons in the living room. Abbie was a dragon.
How was she a dragon, and he never knew?
Instead of seeking refuge with Emre, Abbie tottered forward, her little wings flapping as she walked right into Zenith’s belly and fell onto her butt.
“Oof,” Zenith said, flattening himself into a lump on the living room floor, his head level with Abbie now. “There you are. Aren’t you a beautiful little one?”
Abbie opened her mouth and yawned gummily. Zenith crooned.
“So precious,” Zenith whispered, extending a huge wing over her, as though he was trying to protect her from everything.
“I want to have your babies,” said Emre’s mouth. He shoved his hand over it a few seconds too late.
Zenith looked up sharply at him. His mouth curved into a grin. “Oh?”
“Nothing! Forget I said anything. My mouth is so loose, it’s like a butthole,” Emre said, utterly humiliated.
“Buttholes aren’t loose all the time,” Zenith purred.
“Just mine,” said Emre’s mouth. He buried his face in his hands.
“Gods, you’re precious. Come over here.”
For a second, Emre thought about refusing just because he could. Zenith wasn’t really his alpha.
But Abbie was there, and so was Zenith.
Emre didn’t feel like walking as a human, so he carefully lowered the rest of his body onto the floor and shifted into a wolf. Then he padded over, his tail wagging when Zenith made space for him.
Abbie turned at his approach, tilting her head curiously. She was larger as a dragon baby than she was as a human. When she saw him, she thumped her stubby, scaly tail, but she did not shift back into a wolf.
“This is my baby,” Emre whispered, still trying to believe what he was seeing. Dragons were real. His baby was a dragon.
He leaned in carefully, licking her face. She felt solid. Her scales were smooth. She smelled very faintly of smoke and the forest, and her tiny wing thumped against his shoulder.
She was real.
“You’re amazing, hon,” Emre told her.
She rumbled and reached for him, petting his fur. Emre curled himself around her and lay down so she was surrounded on either side by himself and Zenith.
When he lifted his gaze, he found Zenith giving him the warmest look.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Emre blurted.
Zenith’s smile grew. “Why can’t I?”
“Because!”
“That’s not an answer, sweetheart.” The alpha laughed.
It was such an intoxicating sound.
And Zenith was a fucking dragon. How had Emre missed all the signs before?
Wings fluttered in the distance. Fabric rustled. Footsteps clattered down the fire stairs, coming up to Zenith’s apartment.
“It’s me,” Huxton said, tapping three times on the door. He slipped in and locked it behind him.
“Now you know how to knock,” Zenith said fondly.
Huxton puffed out his chest. “Only when the situation calls for it.”
Zenith rolled his eyes. “So, report?”
The butler winced. “I lost him in the forest. But he knew I was tracking him.”
“Sounds like he has something to hide,” Emre muttered.
“The important question is: Do we want to continue staying here?” Zenith said.
Emre frowned. “Like we have a choice?”
“Of course you do,” Huxton said brightly. “This is Scribbly Master’s torture chamber, where all of life’s pleasures have been sucked dry. Did you really think he doesn’t own a TV?”
“To be fair, there were wolves in my pack who didn’t have a TV,” Emre said. “By choice.”
Zenith frowned. “What do they even do at home?”
“Knit and read,” Emre replied. “Or cook.”
Zenith seemed to consider it for a moment. Then he snapped out of his thoughts. “Back to the important things. Emre, do you still feel safe here, knowing that the mystery alpha might be back?”
Emre shuddered. “I’d rather be gone by the time he’s back, but I don’t know where to go.”
A slow smile curved Zenith’s lips. “Hux, the keyring.”
Huxton perked up, retrieving the forgotten backpack. Before he brought it over, he whipped out his phone.
He snapped a picture of Zenith, Abbie, and Emre.
“This is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen,” Huxton crowed, pressing a hand over his heart. “But do you know what would make this picture better?”
Zenith narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“Pickup lines!”
Zenith sighed. When Emre gave him a questioning look, the alpha explained, “Huxton and his brothers are obsessed with terrible pickup lines. It’s like a religion for them.”
Huxton whipped out a pink book. “699 Pickup Lines For Your Wriggly Heart Muffin, by Dicky Mems. We all have a shrine to Dicky Mems in our bedrooms. We pray to it every morning and night with fresh butt blessings.”
“What?” Emre said.
“The keyring, Hux,” Zenith said.
But Huxton was distracted, cradling the pink book to his chest. His eyes were glazed over and dreamy.
“Hux!” Zenith drew a breath, the inside of his mouth glowing orange. Then he shot Emre a sideways look and snapped his mouth shut.
“Ha. You can’t roast me,” Huxton said gleefully. “You should tell Scribbly Consort about the ones you wrote.”
“Scribbly Consort?” Emre squeaked.
“Keyring,” Zenith said, but he kept talking.
“I once wrote some terrible pickup lines into a book, to see if they would make it through the editors. I thought the editors would throw them out at the first chance they got. But no. The pickup lines remained. In fact, the editors fought to keep them.” Zenith groaned.
“The book was published with those lines in them, and I was horrified.”
“They were the best pickup lines,” Huxton whispered to Emre. “All of us—my brothers and I—had to buy a copy of that book so we could display it proudly on our shelves.”
“The biggest embarrassment of my life,” Zenith said.
“Not really.” And now Huxton looked gleeful. “Your childhood stories are worse.”
Zenith cringed. He looked truly sorry that all of the above existed, so Emre placed a comforting paw on his belly. Zenith brightened.
“Aww, look at you.” Huxton was suddenly beside them, one arm deep in the leather backpack. Metal jangled.
He laid a set of keys in front of Emre. It was a full set, five silver and one bronze, with a short, beautifully-stitched leather strap attached to the keyring. On the other end of the strap was a flat stainless steel full moon, with all its craters etched in stunning detail.
“That’s for you,” Zenith said quietly.
Emre gaped. “The front door doesn’t have six locks.”
“The bronze key is for this apartment. The rest are for my lair.”
“Your—” Emre blinked rapidly. He had thought this apartment was all Zenith had; the alpha had said he couldn’t afford a full-time butler. But now the butler made sense, because no one needed a butler for an apartment this small.
“C’mon, let’s get going before that alpha comes back,” Zenith said. That was enough to kick Emre’s heart rate back up. “Hux and I will pack. Emre, tell us if there’s anything you need to retrieve from your apartment.”
“Just the rest of Abbie’s things,” Emre said. “And... Just in case it’s Ronald, it’ll be best to get rid of our scents, so he won’t try to break in.”
“Hux will do that after we get out. Good call.”
Emre blushed, his heart swelling at the praise.
Zenith shifted back into a human to gather up his things. Abbie stayed in her dragon shape though, flapping her wings and trying to gnaw on everything.
When Zenith placed her in Buttwheel’s cargo basket, Abbie stood up on her little clawed feet, clinging to the cart’s metal sides and flapping her wings as Buttwheel brought her on a tour through the entire apartment.
Zenith took a picture with his phone. “That’s the cutest thing ever.”
“Not me?” said Emre’s mouth. He groaned.
Zenith’s smile grew. “You’re on a different level of cute, sweetheart.”
It turned out that Zenith wasn’t bringing much along. He fitted his laptop and cables into his duffel bag, along with his wallet and phone. Then he stuffed a pile of notebooks and paper scraps in there, zipping it all up.
“That’s it?” Emre squawked, looking around. “But the food and clothes, the pots and pans...”
“Hux will come back for the perishables. I have a full closet and kitchen back at my lair.”
Emre tried to imagine having so many clothes and appliances that you could leave entire rooms behind, and still have a full set of things waiting for you in the next place. It was insane.
How much larger was Zenith’s lair? Twice the size of this apartment? Three times?
Abbie still hadn’t shifted back by the time they were ready to leave. Zenith fashioned a bed sheet nest in Buttwheel’s cargo basket and tucked Abbie under the sheets. Then he lifted Buttwheel with one strong arm, going down the stairs with Emre at his side.
“I’d much rather carry you down the stairs too,” Zenith said apologetically. “But I can’t do it comfortably with one arm, with your belly as round as it is.”
“This is fine,” Emre said. “I move a lot easier as a wolf, anyway.”
At least he was climbing down four flights of stairs while heavily pregnant, instead of climbing up.
Hux scouted ahead of them. When he gave the all clear signal, Zenith walked Emre through the parking lot to his car, tucking Abbie and her sheet nest into his back seat. He scooped Emre up and deposited him in the back seat too, and slid behind the wheel.
Emre had another contraction.
“Feels like a cramp,” he whimpered when it was over.
“Fuck. Hang in there, we’ll be home soon.” Zenith’s forehead was creased; he kept sneaking peeks at Emre on the drive over.
Emre hiccupped. This time, five bubbles floated into the backseat.
“Damn it! I haven’t had time to look up what species that belongs to,” Zenith muttered. “What if we need special prep for the birth?”
Emre groaned. He hadn’t even considered that. “I think it has something to do with water. Because bubbles.”
“I think you’re right.” Zenith was driving them through a fancy neighborhood, with sprawling, beautiful buildings tucked away behind tall fences. “Hey, my brother Griff is mated to a merman. Do you think...?”