21. Jade

21

Jade

As I relaxed on the leather couch in the downstairs living room, Crimson approached me. He wore a grave expression, as if about to deliver horrific news.

"Jade," he said somberly. "I have to tell you something."

I raised a brow. Despite his solemn tone, there was no urgency about him whatsoever. I had a feeling whatever he was about to say wasn't actually serious.

Nevertheless, I'd play along. I set aside my book and replied, "Yes, Crimson?"

Crimson closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. He struggled to get the words out. "Your clothes... are absolutely covered in cat hair," he croaked, almost breaking into a sob.

Alaric groaned in my lap. He was currently curled around our egg, keeping it safe and warm. It was due to hatch any day now. Underneath my mate and egg was Taylor's quilt. Alaric had barely let it out of his sight since Taylor gave it to him.

"For gods' sake," Alaric complained. "We cannot have this many drama kings in the family."

Oh, this was going to be fun. I leaned back and watched in silent amusement as the scene unfolded.

"I'm not being dramatic," Crimson argued, putting a hand to his chest. "Do you know how difficult it is to remove cat hair from a wool jacket?"

Alaric flattened his ears and flicked his tail irritably. "All right, lizard. What do you suggest? Shaving off all my fur?"

"No, but..." Crimson pulled a lint roller out of his back pocket and flashed Jade a pleading glance. "Maybe you'll consider taking this with you."

Alaric glared viciously at the lint roller. "Do not take that thing, Jade."

"Why?" Crimson cried. "It's for the sake of keeping his clothes clean. It's no moral judgment about you, Alaric. It's just that—"

Alaric lashed his tail. "It's just that what ?"

Suddenly, Crimson was at a loss for words. "Erm..."

Before my brother could salvage his crumbling campaign, Alaric yowled, "TAYLOR!"

The tiger shifter strolled in nonchalantly from the kitchen. Ruby followed at his heels. The little striped dragonet was already surprisingly mobile. Soon he'd start talking, and the real fun would begin.

"No, no, no," Crimson muttered under his breath. "Please, don't—"

Unfortunately for my brother, his fruitless begging didn't escape Taylor's sharp ears.

"Don't what?" Taylor asked with a suspicious grunt. Turning to my mate with a slightly softer expression, he asked, "What's wrong, Alaric?"

Alaric stuck out his chin. "Your alpha is offending me."

"Big news," Taylor said, deadpan. "What'd he do this time?"

"I didn't do anything!" Crimson insisted. "I merely suggested that—"

Alaric interrupted him. "First of all, I'm not done speaking. Second, your uncouth comments about my fur won't go unpunished."

When Taylor raised an interrogating brow at his mate, Crimson scoffed.

"It wasn't about the fur on his pelt, but the fur he leaves behind," Crimson argued. "You understand, don't you?"

Taylor's brow inched higher. "Understand what, my love?" he asked in a warning tone.

I withheld a smirk so as not to betray my amusement. I was having far too much fun watching this.

Crimson cleared his throat nervously. "Well, it's a known fact that... er..."

"Spit it out," Alaric demanded.

"Cats shed , all right?" Crimson blurted. "Everywhere! All the time! The loose hairs are unavoidable and never-ending!"

Now both Taylor and Alaric were glaring at him. I couldn't suppress a chuckle at my brother's misfortune any longer.

Disappointed, Crimson shook his head at me. "Unbelievable. I'm fighting for my life, and my own brother is laughing at me."

I shrugged. "Sorry, Crimson. You're on your own."

Crimson gasped louder, now offended for a different reason. "Don't you even care about your clothes? They're drenched in cat hair! Your dark jacket is almost white !"

"Oh, I'm aware," I said, stroking Alaric's fur for good measure. "It simply doesn't bother me."

Crimson's shoulders slumped and he shook his head slowly, as if resigned to his fate. "This is an unprecedented level of disrespect to your clothes... I can't believe we're related," he muttered, then looked me over. "By the way, you look like a super villain right now. Dark suit, glasses, petting a white cat?"

I beamed. His insult sounded more like a compliment. "I'm fine with that."

Alaric snorted in my lap. As the only person present who knew the depths of my depravity, he likely felt the same way.

"Don't change the subject," Taylor growled at his mate, his tiger's voice emerging from his mouth. "What's this about me shedding everywhere?"

Crimson went pale. But before he could attempt to defend himself, Alaric suddenly yelped.

"What happened?" I asked.

Alaric's fur stood on end. He leapt up on all fours like a thorn had poked him.

"The egg stabbed me," he murmured.

My heart began to race.

Taylor's eyes widened. He kneeled by the couch. "It's hatching."

Understanding dawned on Alaric. He unfurled from the egg, revealing it to everyone. He breathed fast, his fur puffing out as adrenaline coursed through him.

"Okay. Stay calm," Alaric said, not calm at all. A second later, he cried, "What if it can't get out?"

"It'll be all right," I promised my mate. I'd witnessed the hatching of enough eggs to keep my wits about me, but Alaric didn't have the same experience.

His spiked fur lowered, but barely. I reminded myself that it was common for first-time omega parents to be stressed during hatching. But Alaric wasn't a data point—he was my mate. It didn't matter what the evidence said. He needed reassurance, and it was my job as his alpha to support him. I placed my hand on his shoulders to remind him I was present.

"We're all here," I said gently. "If the egg needs assistance for any reason, we've got a full house ready to help."

That calmed Alaric's nerves. I felt his bristling hackles fall under my palm.

"Okay," he murmured. "I... I trust you all."

Taylor and Crimson smiled.

A green chip flew off the egg. We stared at it with collectively held breath.

"It's pipping so fast," Crimson pointed out. "Your baby's in a hurry to meet the world."

Alaric sat higher, raising his chest. That seemed to hearten him.

The seconds crawled by. Nobody dared to blink.

As the crack grew larger, Alaric kneaded the quilt in anticipation. "Come on. Hurry up!"

A chunk of eggshell skyrocketed a foot into the air.

Alaric blinked in surprise. "I guess that worked."

My heart raced as fractures splintered the shell. A second later, it split into multiple large pieces, and the egg's inhabitant emerged with a resounding cry.

I lost my breath at the sight of my baby. The newborn dragonet was normal in all ways—except one peculiar trait. Its pale green scales were covered in a downy layer of white fur.

Alaric was similarly spellbound. He stared at our newborn for a few long beats.

"It's so cute," Taylor murmured. He was so moved that a warm purr slipped into his voice.

Crimson's face beamed with endearment. "And unusually fluffy."

Alaric's instincts kicked in. He gathered the dragonet closer to him, licking it clean. Our baby squeaked in complaint, but quieted down as Alaric pulled it into his fur.

Once his clean-up duties were complete, the dragonet's down puffed up. It looked like a disoriented baby swan.

"You're here," Alaric murmured, his voice gentle as I'd ever heard it. "You're finally here..."

My heart swelled with affection for both of them. I leaned down, kissing each one on the forehead.

"Welcome to the world, little one," I whispered.

The fluffy dragonet blinked at me. I was stunned at the intelligence shining in those innocent blue pools. It was like our baby already recognized its father.

Father.

The word swirled in my chest, taking on new and deeper meaning. That's what I was now. Not just a brother, a mate, or an alpha anymore. I'd been gifted a new facet of my identity. I was a nurturer, protector, caretaker. I was responsible for keeping this tiny new life safe and happy—and that was exactly what I planned to do.

After the excitement wound down—or at least, as much as a household could wind down after the arrival of an adorable new baby—Alaric took a hot shower and finally reverted back to human form. He'd been a cat for so long that I'd missed the sight of it. In fact, I was so eager to see him that I felt no shame following him to the bathroom and watching him bathe.

Alaric smirked as he stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. Rivulets ran down his naked body.

"Hello, gorgeous," I said.

Alaric was obviously amused as he wrapped the towel around his waist. "Hello, stalker. And you're committing crimes with our baby in your arms, no less?"

I smiled and rubbed my cheek against Mint's head. It was the only part of his body that wasn't entirely covered with soft white fur. Pale mint-colored scales lined his snout like jewels, giving way to a crest of silky fur on his forehead.

Mint mewled. He sounded more like a kitten than a dragonet, which only made him cuter. Admittedly, I was biased. Mint could set my hoard ablaze and I'd still think he was perfection itself. I was that smitten with him.

"Our baby knows nothing of crime," I said.

Alaric's playful smirk turned into a genuine smile as he lifted Mint from my arms. "Who's daddy's little fluffy chicken nugget? You are," he cooed. Then he side-eyed me. "Don't ever tell anyone I said that."

I chuckled. "We're alone, Alaric. You could say anything you wanted, and I'd never tell a soul."

He gave me a tender look. "I know."

Mint mewled louder. He batted his fur-coated paws against Alaric's chest. Tiny needles protruded from his digits.

"Ow," Alaric said. "You need to sheathe those claws, Minty. We'll work on that when you get older."

But Mint was as brazenly sassy as his daddy. He continued to complain, yowling louder.

"Speaking of chicken nuggets," I teased, "I think he's hungry."

"Of course he is. He's a growing baby," Alaric huffed proudly.

He threw on an outfit, then wrapped up Mint tightly in his quilt. Mint quieted down like a scruffed kitten. The burrito-blanket prevented his flailing needle claws from shredding anything—or anyone. He looked adorable with just his fluffy white-and-green head poking out of the quilt.

"Let's get you something to eat, nugget," Alaric said.

"Shall I make us lunch?" I suggested.

Alaric sighed wistfully, leaning his head on my arm. "Oh, thank gods. I forgot you're talented in all things and can actually cook."

"It's one of my many skills, kitten."

He swatted my chest. "Save the pet names for when we have a babysitter, you green-haired pervert."

I laughed. "You haven't called me that in a while. It's almost nostalgic."

Alaric's eyes gleamed, sharing the feeling. "All this because of a little breaking-and-entering, huh?"

"And misplaced rage," I added.

My mate stuck out his chest, looking proud of himself. "Was it really misplaced if I got what I wanted in the end?"

"I suppose not." I leaned down to kiss his cheek. "In any case, I'm very happy you came to harass and interrogate me that night."

He grinned. "I am, too."