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Kyreagan strokes me with his tongue, lapping all around the circumference of the egg. I relax a little, and then I push one more time, wrenching on his horn.
With a soft plop, the egg falls out of me, into the nest. This one is a deep, vivid blue, marbled with white swirls.
“They’re so beautiful, both of them,” I whisper.
Kyreagan keeps licking me, soothing the sore flesh. “Such a good fucking girl,” he murmurs. “You were wonderful. Rest now.”
The cramps still roll through my belly occasionally, but they don’t feel as urgent or powerful as before. These cramps are my stomach muscles tightening themselves again, working to return my belly to its normal shape. I’m fairly sure that will take days, if not longer. And I’ll have a dozen silvery marks where my skin stretched, to remind me of all this.
I’m still planning to leave my dragon and the babies we created together. During these past few days I’ve become more and more anxious about everyone I left behind in Elekstan. I can’t help thinking that I’ve failed them. I was their princess, and if I don’t try to raise an army and return to set them free, what sort of princess am I?
It doesn’t matter that I would rather do anything but rule. That’s not the point. The point is, my name might still carry some weight with a few of the southern kingdoms. If I promised myself in marriage to one of those princes, he might help me take back my country and save my people from the King of Vohrain. The dragons wouldn’t attack us again—Kyreagan wouldn’t allow it. I could protect everyone I love, everyone who made me feel worthy and wanted when my mother despised me. Don’t I owe them that? Shouldn’t I at least try to help them?
Pleasure swells between my legs as the dragon prince worships me with his tongue. I can sense his gratitude, his devotion. He would do anything for me.
“Kyreagan, stop,” I whisper. “You’re making me feel so good, but I can’t. Not right now. Please.”
The dragon lifts his head, licking his lips. “As you wish.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth, a ray of pale yellow light shines into the cave. I lift my eyes, astonished. The rain has slackened to a sparkling veil of drops, casting rainbow shadows across the Dragonish symbols on the cave walls.
“It’s over,” I breathe.
Kyreagan whirls and charges out of the nest so fast I can’t help laughing. He hasn’t been able to fly in days, and I know he’s aching to check on everyone. But he hesitates, glancing back at me.
“You should have fresh meat and fruit,” he says. “It may be difficult to find, but I will do my best. And I must visit the other dragons, and the women.”
“Go,” I tell him. “I’m fine. There’s no blood, no damage—I’ll be alright.”
But he comes back, fetches the blankets, and drapes both of them over me awkwardly with his claws. “I’ll return as quickly as I can, after I have assessed the damage and found you something fresh to eat.”
“When you get back, we need to talk,” I tell him.
His lips twitch over his fangs, and he glances away. He’s not looking forward to that conversation any more than I am.
“We’ll talk,” he agrees.
“Do I need to warm the eggs? You know—sit on them or something?”
He snorts. “No. We’re not birds. The eggs are fine on their own, until they hatch.”
“Oh, good. Go on, then.”
With a joyful bound that reminds me more of a puppy than anything else, he springs from the ledge and soars out through the twinkling rain, into the sunshine.
I settle down in the nest and snuggle under the blankets. I’m sore, but not really in pain. All in all, that “birth” was far easier than the human ones I’ve witnessed.
After gazing at the two eggs for a moment, I scoot closer to them. It’s hard to imagine that, if we’re lucky, they’ll hatch in a week or so, and two little dragons will emerge.
What if Thelise’s magic went wrong and they’re some kind of awkward mutation of dragon and human, with blended bodies? A dragon wing here, a human arm there, scales on scalps instead of hair—
Enough, Serylla, I tell myself sternly.
“Whatever you look like, he will love you just the same,” I say aloud. Then I clap my hand over my mouth, because if I’m planning to leave the eggs, I probably shouldn’t talk to them.
Or maybe I really should.
“It might be hard for you to understand why I have to leave you,” I tell the eggs quietly. “You see, I have to help all the people who cared for me, respected me, and loved me. I have to take care of my kingdom first, which means giving up my… my babies… shit. That’s not right, is it? Because that would make me my mother. She always put the kingdom first over family. Well, that’s not exactly true, either—she put herself first. Still, if I do this, will I be making one of many mistakes that could lead me down the same path?”
