Page 16 of Sobek’s Joy

“I do hope that’s not my one good lamp.” Rudy bolted for the stairs.

Sobek followed, arriving in the kitchen to find Jack standing rigid in the center of the room, breathing hard. Fur covered both his arms up to the elbows, and his eyes held a wild, frightened edge. Rose and Timothy huddled behind the overturned kitchen chair - the source of the crash - watching their brother with worried expressions.

“Jack?” Rudy was still in the living room. “Buddy, it’s okay. Whatever happened…”

“I didn’t mean to.” Jack’s voice broke. “The chair just fell, and I got scared and…” He stared at his fur-covered arms with growing horror.

Sobek acted on instinct, stepping between the kitchen door and Jack and crouching to the boy’s eye level. “Jack. Look at me.”

The pup’s gaze snapped to his.

“You’re safe. Your family is safe. Nothing bad is happening.” Sobek kept his voice low, steady, the same tone he’d use with a spooked hatchling. “This is normal. This is fine. Take a breath.”

“But Rudy will see…”

“Rudy’s right behind me, distracted by the lamp situation. Breathe, Jack. In for four counts.”

Jack sucked in air, chest heaving.

“Hold for four.”

The pup held it, eyes locked on Sobek’s.

“Out for four. Good. Again.”

Behind him, Rudy’s voice drifted closer. “Is everyone okay? Nothing’s broken?”

“Everyone’s fine,” Sobek called back without turning. “Jack got startled when the chair fell. We’re just calming down.”

To Jack, he added quietly, “The fur is already fading. See? You’re in control. You’ve got this.”

Jack glanced down at his arms where the fur was indeed receding, and his breathing evening out. When he looked back at Sobek, confusion and relief warred in his expression.

“How did you know?”

“Sometimes people just need reminding that they’re okay.” Sobek ruffled the pup’s hair. “Go check on your siblings. Make sure Rose isn’t planning to eat the chair legs.”

Jack managed a wobbly smile and scurried off. Sobek stood, turning to find Rudy watching him with an expression that was causing all sorts of sensations not appropriate around small children.

“You’re really good with them,” Rudy said softly. “Like, weirdly good. Most people can’t handle one stressed kid, and you just...defused that like it was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing. Jack was frightened.”

“Yeah, but you knew exactly what to do. The breathing thing, the distraction…” Rudy shook his head. “I’m a terrible guardian. I do my best, but it’s hard not to panic when they panic.”

“You’re an excellent guardian.” The words came out harder than Sobek intended, his crocodile side bristling at any suggestion that Rudy was inadequate. “You’ve kept three children alive, healthy, and happy without any support. You’ve given them safety and love when the world abandoned them. That’s not terrible. That’s extraordinary.”

Rudy blinked rapidly. “Oh. Um. Thanks. That’s…that’s really nice of you to say.”

Too much. I’m revealing too much too fast. But Sobek couldn’t help it. Every protective instinct screamed at him to eliminate any doubt Rudy had about his own worth, to make his mate understand how precious he was, how seeing him doubt himself was physically painful.

The doorbell rang.

“That’ll be the parts,” Sobek said, grateful for the interruption.

“Already? You ordered them twenty minutes ago.”

“Expedited shipping.”