Page 23 of Extinguishing Heat
Whisper took it from him with trembling arms, and he shivered with cold that didn’t exist. “Our egg.”
I’d had to stop him from calling it a baby, emphasizing the pain my father felt, and acknowledging a fertilized egg as a child put a pain on him that should never have been. I wished him to have his own one day—but the gods did not will it.
Baba cried as he watched us, glancing from me to my mate, touching the shell with little brushes of his fingertips and a sob.
“Good job, kid.” Morris’s dry voice startled the ever-loving shit out of me as I flailed and scrambled back.
He grinned. I’d not even heard him climbing the steps. Still, he turned his back and watched the tree line. “Someone has to keep an eye out.”
I sighed in relief. “I can—”
“You go to your nest and snuggle your egg tonight. I can get nest time with my son-in-law later. I need to enjoy some quiet.” Baba smiled and pulled his gloves off before packing up our things.
Morris rested a hand on his shoulder, whispering a word of comfort.
“Malkim will be waiting for you. Let him see.” Baba blinked wet eyes, and Morris turned him to his chest for a long, brotherly hug.
It was so hard for him, but in his tears was joy as well. And a part of me understood why some couples may choose to gift their children to the childless. Some were good at birthing babies. Others were better at raising them. Others still had so much love to give.
“Love you, Whisper,” I said as I carried him down the steps, letting him clutch our egg so tightly.
“Love you.” His little words made my heart sing. And he’d never told anyone else those two words, not from his own mouth. Only me.
Chapter Fourteen
Whisper
Nesting, as it turned out, was a communal affair. I’d wanted to fuck in my nest more than not, but we had to reserve ourselves to the bedroom for certain activities. Every omega in the keep wanted to snuggle my egg.
Two hatchlings, one nearing the size of a small lab and another tiny enough to cradle in my arms, snuggled with us, purring as they rubbed up against my lovely egg.
Little ticking noises and struggling sounds had been piquing my interest for a day or two, and we were all on edge waiting for a pip to happen.
Lyphus stroked the shell with the tip of his tail, huffing with a beautiful sort of joy. Aster perked up, drawing my attention. Cirue, the largest and most insistent of us, snorted himself awake as we stared at my shifting egg.
Scaled bodies pressed against me from all angles. The two babes snuggled so close to me, padding the egg from the world itself as a tiny, clear talon popped free, tugging down.
Snorts of excitement, chirps of joy, all rang out as we paid rapt attention to the little egg. The silvery, textured surface had grown lumpy over time, and it strained as that single claw ripped a jagged slit then another, the intersecting lines popping open as thick, clear liquid spilled free.
My little one yawned, opening a toothless mouth and coughed, spitting up the viscous fluid as it flopped onto the floor beside its clanmates. Instinct told me to lick him clean, and I lapped his skin from nose to tail tip, cleaning his wings and feet until the beautifully speckled hide of a little silvery dragon breathed its first unobstructed breath.
A shout of excitement roared out, and my mate would be on his way, no doubt.
The little one made a few coughing noises, breathy and voiceless as my stomach clenched. I prayed he had a voice, that his nerves weren’t trapped behind unreleased scales. That he had words to cry out, sound to alert me.
Tears stung my dragon’s eyes as my babe stared up at me. Rosy irises, deeper and darker than my own, pinned and focused, forming his first bond from his papa to his baba, to his Zaza Aster and Zaza Cirue, a term they’d agreed upon.
Marcus appeared in the doorway as the alphas jogged in with him. I nudged my little one out of the circle of omegas to walk shakily out of our nest.Go on, little one. Say hello to your father.
The babe glanced from Marcus to Malkim to Morris and Atkin in confusion.
I gave a little coo from my draconic throat, urging our little one to approach. With shivering steps on all fours, our little one butted his head against Marcus’s leg and let loose a softer version of my pleading coo.
Marcus lifted the little one to his chest and smiled, letting the other alphas study our precious little one.
“What name will you give him?” Morris stroked over the tiny babe’s head and earned an affectionate lick.
I had practiced the word a thousand times, prepared to hear my tiny one’s voice. I was a whisper that gained sound. I was the cloud to the gray sky of my mate’s scales. Our little one had voice, and I shifted, stumbling nakedly out to hug Marcus and adore our little one.
Echo.
Because he would always have the words to return.
