Epilogue

EPILOGUE

Months later…

“Your eggs are almost ready,” Dracin announced, cooking bravely in the buff. She’d never risk her tender skin with spattering bacon grease. But her dragon mate? He strutted around the kitchen without a care, dick swinging, making her food. Hopefully she could eat it. She’d been feeling off the last few days. Blame the stress of everything going on. Despite Marjorie’s promise, Clarabelle had been slightly worried.

For nothing as it turned out.

The coven didn’t fire Clarabelle, but they also didn’t want her hanging around with her dragon mate. Apparently, they worried if it became common knowledge that a witch and shifter could make dragon babies together, more might try and intentionally do so. Never mind the fact that only true-mated couples could procreate without difficulty. They also worried Dracin might be an anomaly and that future dragon babies would be the rampaging kind of old.

Whatever. She didn’t like constantly having to report to the coven, anyway. She’d rather have her freedom to roam. With Dracin to love, she could—

She lurched from her chair and barely made it to the small bathroom off the kitchen. The tea she’d been sipping came up and, with that, everything she’d eaten in her entire life. Or so it felt.

By the time she was done heaving, she trembled and Dracin held back her hair.

“My poor Belle,” he murmured. “Let’s get you to bed so you can sleep this off.”

“This won’t go away with a nap.” She leaned back into his solid strength and murmured, “And I’m not sick, just pregnant.”

He stiffened then uttered a bugling cry that almost rendered her deaf before swooping her into his arms and crushing her.

Then practically shoved her from him, looking appalled. “Did I crush it?” He glanced down at her flat belly.

She snorted. “You idiot. I’m fine. We can hug. Have sex. I’ll even be able to eat once I whip up an antinausea tea.”

“But how?” He glanced at her with confusion. “I thought I was sterile?”

A conclusion drawn after one of the biology-oriented witches examined him and declared that the special conditions for a dragon’s own conception meant that they wouldn’t be able to make babies of their own.

Clarabelle shrugged and smiled. “Guess not. Wonder if the child will take after you or me.”

His eyes widened. “Fuck me, it better be like you. I was a bit of a shit.”

Her laughter spilled as she squeezed his hand. “And you think I was any better?”

He tucked her to his chest murmuring, “I love you, Belle.”

“I love you more, my fierce dragon.”

Together they would face the world that would have kept them apart and maybe help others to realize that love could transcend all boundaries.

And if not, she’d send them to Hell and let her Dark Lord sort them out.

The end of the story was inspired by Broomstick Breakdown. I had so many people ask about Dracin and Clarabelle that I finally had to find out how their love story began. But now I wonder, is there someone else in this world of claws, furs, and fangs that needs to find love?