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“My stomach aches. It’s like the cramps I get when it’s my monthly bleeding time, but worse. And there’s pressure.” I cup my hands under my stomach to support it. It’s not nearly as large as women get when they’re carrying human babies, but it’s still unnerving—more so because I’ve barely had time to get used to it, and now— “I think the eggs are coming out.”
Not in my wildest dreams did I imagine having to say those words.
“It’s too early,” Kyreagan says. “You should have another day or two before it happens.”
My stomach contracts painfully, and I double over, groaning. “Tell that to my fucking body! It’s time to get these things out of me. And you’re going to help.”
He gapes at me, his lower jaw so slack it’s comical. “I—I don’t know what to do. Egg laying should be a painless process, done in private—”
“Fuck that!” I yell. “You put them inside me, so by god, you’re going to get me through this, do you hear?”
“Yes, yes,” he exclaims, looking terrified. “Come to the nest.”
He leaps toward it himself, his wingtip brushing my shoulder. I toddle over, already feeling the pressure of something emerging between my legs. Kyreagan helps me into the nest by nudging my rear awkwardly with his muzzle.
I witnessed two births at the palace. One was a chambermaid of mine whose labor came on unexpectedly, and she had to take my bed for the birth. The other birth I witnessed was that of Taren, my little protégé, the son of Huli, the second cook in the palace kitchens. When Huli was put on bed rest for the last two months of her pregnancy, I interceded for her with my mother and ensured that she would continue to be paid during that time. Huli asked me if I wanted to witness the birth and be the baby’s patroness, and I said yes wholeheartedly.
My mother never knew about either instance; she would have thought both were inappropriate. But I loved watching the tiny, slimy, red creatures emerge into the world—loved cleaning them up, hearing their first cries, watching them nuzzle against their mother. I loved the expression on each woman’s face as she held her baby for the first time.
I wonder where those children and their mothers are now—Huli and Taren, especially. I hope they’re well and safe. Though “well and safe” no longer means the same thing it used to, for me. Right now I’m crouching in a giant nest with my skirts hiked up, while a male dragon watches anxiously, smoke sifting from his nostrils. And yet, in spite of the strangeness of it all, I am well, and I am safe.
During one of the births I witnessed, a midwife recommended the crouching position, but after trying it for a few moments, I realize it isn’t working for me. My thighs are starting to ache, and I have enough aches right now. So I scoot back against the edge of the nest and sit there with my legs bent and spread, sweating and panting through another contraction.
Kyreagan dips his head forward, inspecting between my thighs.
“I hate you for this,” I snarl at him, and he pulls back, chuffing a fiery breath.
“You agreed to it,” he mutters.
“Shut up. Shut the fuck up… oh god, this shit hurts!”
He approaches again, nuzzling apologetically along my inner thigh. His tongue slips out, and he licks my vagina gently.
For a moment, the pain eases.
“Do that again,” I gasp. “It helps.
Encouraged, he licks all around my opening. Perhaps there’s something in the saliva of male dragons that eases pain, or perhaps I’m just relaxing more because of his caresses, but the difference in my pain level is startling. Within seconds, the egg stretches me wide, then pops out, tumbling onto the grass.
It’s slightly smaller than Kyreagan’s drawing. The smooth shell is iridescent violet, gleaming wet.
“Thank the Bone-Builder,” Kyreagan chokes out.
“Thank me,” I tell him. “And keep licking. I think there’s another one.”
Obediently he bathes the sore edges of my vagina. It’s nothing sexual—the act is pure gentleness, pure love.
I reach out and grip one of his horns as my stomach tenses again.
“I see the egg,” he rumbles wonderingly, in that deep dragon voice of his, and I think of the moment I first saw him soaring across the fields, leading his army to doom my city.
“You’re doing so well, beautiful.” His yellow eyes meet mine. “You’re so strong.”
Tears gather in my eyes. “You used to call me weak,” I whisper.
“That was before I knew better.”
My breath hisses sharply through my teeth as I grip his horn tighter. With all my might I push, and my hole stretches tight again, strained by the shell of the egg.
