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Mazie squeezed my shoulder. “You can touch him. It would take a helicopter landing outside to wake him, and I’m not even sure that would do it.”
I tentatively stroked my fingertip along his forehead. Such soft skin. So sweet and innocent. The world hadn’t marred him yet like it had me.
I’d kill anyone who tried to hurt him.
I stroked his cheek and laid my hand on his chest. His heart beat fast beneath my palm.
My eyes stung, and I brushed away the wetness. I couldn’t swallow. I could barely breathe.
He was a miracle, something infinitely precious.
I closed my eyes and shakily rose to my feet. Turning, I tugged Mazie into my arms. I held her, struggling not to cry, though something wet trickled down my face.
She looked up at me with concern, her eyes gleaming with tears. What a pair we were, crying about our son.
Despite my tight chest, I could finally suck in a breath.
I nodded, and we left, closing the door behind us.
In the kitchen, I collapsed on a stool.
“Hungry?” she asked, bustling around the counter. Creating something to help me transition from my stunned silence to something normal. Did such a thing exist? “I can heat up a slice of quiche.”
I couldn’t speak, but I jerked my head up and down.
She heated the rest and brought it over on a plate, handing me a fork and a napkin.
“Are you going to eat too?”
“I was about to eat when you . . .” With a smile, she settled on the stool beside mine and picked up her fork, carefully cutting a bite off her slice.
“This could be considered our first date,” I said, my voice deep and gravelly as if the walls of my throat were coated with sandpaper.
She flashed me a smile as she ate. “Second date if you count that night five years ago. On tonight’s menu, we have quiche. This guy I know made it for me.”
Humor sparked within me, making my lips tremble and the tightness in my heart start to unravel. “A guy, huh?”
“Yeah, he’s amazing. I really like him a lot. He’s cute too.” She winked and sashayed over to the sink, filling glasses of water, then lowering them beside our plates.
“Cute, huh?”
“Gorgeous. Totally gorgeous where it counts.” Tapping her chest, she sat on her stool again.
Even with my scars, she still saw me.
She leaned against my side and sighed. “I’m glad you came back, Gravor. I wanted to look for you today, but I didn’t know where to start.”
“I’m sorry. I promise I’ll never bolt like that again.”
“You needed to go, to fly. I think you needed to give in to that side of yourself that protected you all these years. The side that is wilder and uncluttered. I suspect deep down; you knew your dragon could make you new again once you shifted back.”
Smart, my dragon said. Mate very smart.
She is. I adore her. My son too.
As should. He sunk down, fusing again with my soul. I didn’t exactly feel this action as sense it, and this was the only way I could describe it. Sometimes, there just weren’t words for stuff like that.
“So if you want to bolt again,” she said, fiddling with the saltshaker. “You should. If it helps you relieve stress and reset yourself, so to speak, you do it. Shift, fly, and all your cares will melt away. When you’re back in your man body, you’ll feel amazing again, and I’ll be here waiting.”
