24. Morning Sickness
MORNING SICKNESS
Without another word, Emre handed Bean to Zenith, before making a break for the nearest bathroom.
“Emre?” Zenith yelped, picking Abbie off the floor and placing both pups in the kitchen playpen, before hurrying after his omega.
Emre skidded to a halt in front of the toilet and emptied his stomach. It looked so uncomfortable.
Zenith winced. He crouched next to Emre and rubbed his back, brushing Emre’s hair away from his face. “It’s going to be okay,” he murmured. “I’m going to take care of you.”
“Thanks,” Emre said between heaving. When Zenith slipped his fingers into Emre’s hand, Emre held on tight, even as he gagged and heaved.
“Hux, some water, please.”
The butler appeared next to them, holding out a water glass.
“Thanks,” Zenith said. He took the water and waited for Emre to be done.
“Ugh.” Emre made a face as he sat back. “You shouldn’t be here. That was disgusting.”
Zenith raised an eyebrow. “Really? After all the times Bean spat up on me, and after all the diapers I’ve changed?”
“But you expect babies to be gross! Not adults!”
“Even so, we survived the poopnami,” Zenith said.
Emre sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh gods. If I’m pregnant, if this is a third pup... Is there going to be a third poopnami?”
“How can you be so sure it’s just one per child?”
“I can’t!” Emre groaned. “Oh, Mother Moon.”
He looked so dejected that Zenith leaned in and rubbed his back, handing him the water to rinse his mouth.
If this was an episode of morning sickness, if there was really a baby in Emre’s belly... Zenith’s heart thumped. Bean and Abbie belonged entirely to Emre, but this new baby... it was half Zenith’s.
It felt like the clouds had cracked open, and a ray of the purest sunlight was shining into Zenith’s chest.
“I think I might be pregnant,” Emre said as he wiped his mouth. He glanced at Zenith, looking... uncertain?
Zenith cradled Emre’s face with both hands, and kissed him firmly on the lips. “I’ll support you, whatever you decide to do with this pup.”
Emre sighed and leaned closer. “You’re amazing.”
“No, you’re amazing.”
“You’re more amazing,” Emre said.
“No, you—”
“I have all this on video,” Huxton said gleefully, his phone angled toward them. “This will make a great clip for the Buttler Bros chat.”
Zenith winced. “Don’t you have something else to do?”
“Like tell Emre an embarrassing story about you?” Huxton tucked his phone away, smiling manically. “Once upon a time, when Scribbly Master was ten, he thought he would make his very own erupting volcano.”
Emre raised his eyebrows. “An erupting volcano?”
“Yes!” Huxton puffed out his chest like a proud bird. Zenith stood up to chase the butler away, except he couldn’t send Huxton out of earshot; Emre’s hearing was too sharp for that.
“One of Scribbly Master’s brothers had told him about volcanoes and science fair projects,” Huxton continued. “But he didn’t have the materials to make one of those, so he improvised.”
“This sounds disastrous,” Emre said.
Zenith pressed his face into his hand and groaned.
In a stage whisper, Huxton said, “Guess what he used to make the volcano.”
Emre winced. “What?”
“His dads’ pillows!” At Emre’s shocked look, Huxton nodded.
“Apparently he’d gotten it into his head that you could pile things really high if you had enough pillows.
Somehow, he acquired a metal pipe and stood it upright, surrounding it with a mountain of pillows.
By the time he was done, the pillow-volcano was taller than him, with an L-shaped tube leading to the top of the volcano.
Scribbly Master had it all set up in the front yard; he told the entire family to come watch. ”
“That sounds exciting,” Emre said, bouncing a little.
“Exciting?” Zenith protested.
“Well, yeah! I’ve never made a huge pillow-volcano!”
“It’s a humiliating memory,” Zenith groaned.
“But you were so adorable,” Huxton crowed.
“Scribbly Master didn’t even notice his parents’ horrified faces.
It had rained the night before, you see, but the pillows were charmed to be waterproof.
Anyway, Scribbly Master went to the other end of the iron pipe and breathed a huge plume of fire into it.
His flames were so hot that they heated up the pipe, and the pillows caught fire. ”
Emre gaped. “Weren’t they fireproof?”
Huxton grinned. “They were charmed with the wrong spell—waterproof instead of fireproof—and they were supposed to be sent back to the pillow maker in exchange for a new batch.”
Zenith spluttered. “You told me they were okay to use!”
Huxton shrugged. “They all caught fire and created such a light show.”
“You fucking—”
The butler snickered. “Scribbly Master was grounded for two weeks for ruining several perfectly good pillows.”
Zenith flipped him off. “I’m still not over that.”
“You’ll get over it.” Huxton flapped his hand dismissively. “You have pups. They’re going to destroy everything in this mansion.”
“They will not!” Emre squeaked, shooting a panicked look at Zenith.
Zenith hurriedly wrapped his arm around Emre’s shoulders, glowering at Huxton. “Fuck off, Hux. Don’t upset my omega.”
“It was just a warning,” Huxton said innocently, before wandering off.
Emre put his head in his hands and groaned. “He’s not wrong, though. I chewed up so many things in my parents’ home. It’s why they never bothered making the furniture pretty.”
“It’s okay,” Zenith said. “I don’t mind.”
Emre raised his head and stared at him doubtfully.
“I’m the one who scrolls through baby photos on Cartbook, remember? I know that children come with their challenges.”
“That’s because no one shares photos of their crying babies,” Emre muttered.
“Sweetheart, believe me. I don’t mind. I was there with you when they were both wailing.” Zenith cupped Emre’s face and made him look up.
Emre stared at Zenith for a long while. Then he finally relaxed, bowing his head in submission. “Thank you.”
Zenith’s instincts surged beneath his skin. Mine.
He kissed Emre’s hair, feeling too much to put any of it into words. He tried anyway. “You’re not the only one with doubts, you know. I worry sometimes.”
Emre looked surprised. “You? Worry?”
“Well, yes.” Zenith wet his lips. “I haven’t forgotten that you’re still wary of open flame. I’m made of fire, Emre. It’s literally inside me all the time.”
Emre squirmed, dropping his gaze. “I’ve felt safe with you so far.”
“Will you still feel that way if I’m forced to attack someone with fire?
I’m okay with close-range fighting, but I can’t deny that I prefer burning my enemies to a crisp.
” Zenith hated that Emre had lost his pack and family that way.
It was horrific, and it sucked that fire was Zenith’s main weapon in a worst-case scenario.
Emre winced. “I haven’t seen much fire lately. Nothing big. But we should do something about it. With two dragonets, it’s a given that I’ll have to deal with fire at some point.”
“I can remove fire from a scene,” Zenith said. “If it helps, I can suck it in and absorb it into my core.”
“You can?” Emre blinked. “Like a blowjob?”
Zenith coughed. “I can demonstrate? If it’s not too much for you.”
Emre steeled himself, a little pale, but his jaw was set. “I should see it. It might help.”
He was so brave. Zenith realized right then that he wanted Emre to stay around for a long, long time.
“Now?” he asked.
“We might as well.” Emre moved to the other side of the kitchen, eyeing Zenith warily.
“We’ll start off small,” Zenith decided. “Just a tiny fireball. It’ll die out without any fuel, so don’t worry about the fire spreading.”
He called up the fire in his core, molding it into the tiniest fireball he could. When Emre nodded, Zenith spat it out, a spark of bright orange that landed in his palm and guttered out.
Emre’s eyes were round. “It didn’t hurt you?”
“Nope. Abbie and the third pup will be the same. Fire feels warm to us, tickles a little. Are you ready for something bigger?”
Emre grabbed a cushion from the living room and came back, holding it in front of himself like a shield. He peeked over the top of it. So adorable.
This time, Zenith’s fireball was slightly bigger. He spat it out a little slower, to give Emre more time to adjust to it. The flames still died out quickly with no fuel.
“Now, I’m going to give it something small to burn,” Zenith said. “A tiny square of cardboard. The flames will disappear when all the cardboard is gone. Is that okay?”
Emre nodded, so Zenith looked around. He found a box of chocolate puff cereal and tore off a cardboard flap. Then he breathed a tiny fireball onto it, watching Emre as the cardboard caught fire and burned.
When all the cardboard had been consumed, the orange flames died out, leaving a pile of ashes in Zenith’s hand.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
Emre drew a slow breath. “I think I’m okay. These are... small.”
“Ready for more?”
“I think so. The cushion’s fireproofed. Everything else in here is, too.”
Zenith nodded, pride swelling in his chest. He breathed a slightly larger fireball onto his hand. When that went well with Emre, he tore off a larger piece of the cereal box, setting it alight.
They watched as this scrap burned too. Emre’s heart was thumping fast, but he didn’t seem afraid.
“It’s almost... beautiful,” Emre said hesitantly. “A dangerous kind of beauty.”
“So are you,” Zenith said fondly. “You’re dangerous in your wolf form too. And just as beautiful.”
Emre blushed. Maybe one day, when he was equipped with a spelled robe, Emre would be able to enjoy the bonfires that Zenith and his flight liked to burn. Or maybe not, but that was okay too.
For now, Zenith had to prove that he could protect his mate.
He removed the bag of cereal from its box, setting one corner of the cardboard on fire.
As more of the box began to burn, Zenith leaned in, inhaling through his mouth.
The fire lengthened into thin ribbons and disappeared between his lips.
It tickled his mouth and throat, then joined the heat in his core.
Emre gaped. “What does that feel like?”