17. Pregnancy

17

Griff was in the kitchen making breakfast, when Quinlan burped.

There was a moment of silence. Then, Quinlan made a soft, confused sound.

Curious, Griff turned away from the griddle full of pancakes. "What's wrong, fireheart?"

Quinlan was cross-eyed and staring in front of himself. "Is that... smoke?"

Sure enough, there was a hazy cloud of something in front of his face, slowly dissipating into the air.

Griff's heart tripped. "Did... Did you just burp smoke?"

"I think so." Quinlan rubbed his stomach. "It feels really warm in here."

Griff's thoughts crashed together like a multi-car pileup. He barely remembered to turn the stove off, before dropping to his knees in front of his most special human. "Fireheart."

He wasn't sure what his own face looked like. But from the way Quinlan's eyes grew wide, it had to be something.

"When... When someone conceives a dragonet... they breathe smoke," Griff whispered, his throat growing tight. "Sometimes sparks, too."

As one, they looked down at Quinlan's belly, which was still as flat as ever.

It didn't feel real.

But the scent of smoke hung in the air between them, smelling like Quinlan.

Griff stamped down the emotions threatening to rob him of speech. He'd never thought this was possible for him.

"Griff?" Quinlan murmured, taking Griff's face into his careful hands.

Griff tried to cough out the tightness in his chest. "For hundreds of years, people thought I was crazy, fireheart. Ever since I was a wee child. The other children always said that I was strange, that no one would want me."

Quinlan frowned. "Even your family?"

Griff shook his head. "I'm not the only odd one in my family. Raptor and Ace are like me. The three of us are... not like the rest. But they're not my mates. I don't want to make a family with them. As for the other people outside the family... They always laughed at me. I'd write those songs I told you about, the science songs. But no one thought they were any good. So I tried writing love songs, and lots of people paid me for them.

"But somehow, those I tried to court—they didn't want to hear me sing. For the longest time, I did everything I could to win a mate. I grew flowers. I got myself invited to dances. I sewed dresses and skirts for the most beautiful folk in town, and I'd... I'd get a dance or two. I'd start to get somewhere with them, and I'd bring them home. But the moment I tried to sing my songs to them, they grew repulsed, and left."

"But there are people who paid you for your songs," Quinlan said indignantly.

Griff shrugged. "And they knew that, the people I courted. They knew I had money. And... they were only interested in me for my money. But they always had the same reactions to my songs. When I tried to sing, they'd look at me like I'd brought a dead rat into the house.

"For a while, I told myself that I didn't need the songs. If I could just set them aside and find someone to cherish, it would be worth the trade-off. One summer, I almost got married. Until I began to sing at the altar, and my bride looked at me as though I were a squashed frog."

"Oh, Griff," Quinlan murmured, his face scrunched up.

"I left," Griff said somberly. "I guess I never learned my lesson. I'd have these periods of optimism where I sang to all the people I courted, and they poured buckets of water on me, or threw rotten eggs. Then I'd try to hide my songs from everyone and not think about them. I would almost get married again. Until both of us reached the altar, and when I opened my mouth, a song came out. Each time, they looked like I'd said something hideous.

"The news spread. Everyone in the nearby villages laughed at me. They'd say I was too excitable, too crazy for anyone to want a family with me—"

"You're not too excitable or too crazy for a family," Quinlan said fiercely.

"That's what Hex said when I first met him. I was so sad, I'd huddled into a lump by the lake, skipping stones. Hex wandered up and found me. He skipped stones with me and we became friends. He said if the songs made me happy, then I should keep writing them. And one day, someone would show up, who would like my songs." Griff sighed. "But it was so difficult not having a mate. I'm six hundred and nine years old, fireheart. I was so lonely and jealous of all the other people who had mates who loved them. I tried several more times, and in the end I just gave up."

Quinlan's face fell. "I'm sorry for not appreciating you at first."

Griff sighed. "I wasn't intending to kidnap you. But I wanted a mate so badly, and I'd heard that Blade had three mates. Three! I was so jealous. When he said you weren't his, I decided that I was going to capture you, and keep you with me until you liked my songs."

Quinlan huffed, the corners of his mouth twitching up. "It worked, didn't it? I don't mind listening to you sing."

Griff's heart thudded. "I'm not sorry for kidnapping you. I don't think I'll ever be sorry."

"So don't be." Quinlan smiled. And he leaned in, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to Griff's lips.

Griff thought his heart might explode. Finding Quinlan was akin to finding hope again. "You're so important to me."

"I'm honored," Quinlan whispered, bowing his head.

Griff kissed him back. He slipped his fingers under Quinlan's shirt, stroking the soft skin of his belly.

"Will you tell me how you got Annie?" Griff asked. "If... If there's another parent who might want to claim her?"

Quinlan's expression grew hard. "I'm not giving her up to anyone."

"Okay." Griff tried not to feel disappointed that Quinlan hadn't included him on Annie's possible-parent list.

Then again... maybe it was still too soon? Maybe Griff had to prove himself first?

He swallowed the tinge of sadness and looked back at Quinlan. "How did you get her?"

Quinlan rubbed his temples. "I was in a long-term relationship that I ended because I found the jerkwad cheating on me. Annie came from a rebound fling. Human dad. I didn't tell him I was pregnant. I didn't want complications. It was just a one night stand, anyway."

Griff frowned. "But you could've gotten him to pay for... stuff. Annie's things."

Quinlan sighed. "Yeah, but I went into the one night stand knowing I wanted a baby. I didn't ask him if he did. I had no intention of dragging him into the mess."

"So now she's all yours."

"Mine." Quinlan scowled.

"I like when you're possessive," Griff murmured.

Quinlan's mouth twitched. "Yeah?"

"Yes. You are fierce and brave and beautiful." Still kneeling, Griff gathered Quinlan into his arms, burying his face against Quinlan's belly.

There was a little life in there now. Maybe it wasn't much of a baby yet, but it would be soon.

His heart skipping, Griff pressed a gentle kiss to Quinlan's belly. "Hello, second lil flame," Griff whispered. "I should give you another name, since your big sis is already a lil flame."

Quinlan blushed. "They could both be lil flames."

"Maybe. But what're we going to name this one?"

"We haven't even felt the baby kick yet!"

A rumble burst out of Griff. "I can't wait for that. Can't wait to feel our dragonet in your belly. Can't wait to hold them in my arms, rock them to sleep and tuck them into bed."

Quinlan's blush deepened, and Griff's smile grew. "Wait. Are dragon shifter babies born as humans, or as dragons?"

"Humans. So they won't hurt you."

"Oh, good. Anything else I should know about this pregnancy?" Quinlan narrowed his eyes.

"You'll like spicy food. You'll like it a lot, and eating it might let you breathe fire."

"Don't forget," Hex yelled somewhere in the mansion. "Spicy peppers now act as aphrodisiacs!"

Quinlan groaned. "Stop listening in!"

"I can't," Hex called back. Then he skidded into the kitchen in a flurry of rainbow robes, and gave an exaggerated curtsey. "Both of you are so entertaining. You're doing so much better than my brothers' employers."

Griff preened.

"Better in what way?" Quinlan asked suspiciously.

"For one, none of them understand the true value of these pickup lines." Hex brandished a familiar pink book. "My brothers have tried inserting these lines into their employers' lives, but you two are the only ones who have truly embraced them."

Griff's chest swelled even more. "That's because we're special."

Hex cackled. "Oh, you are very special indeed. You should take a picture with one of these pickup lines and send it to your friends."

Quinlan buried his face in his hands. "Oh, gods."

"You don't have to do it if you don't want to," Griff said uncertainly. Despite how much Quinlan tolerated all of the pickup lines, Griff knew they weren't what got his mate squirming and aroused in bed.

Quinlan lifted his head, watching Griff for a moment. "We'll do it."

"Are you sure?" Griff frowned. "It doesn't make you happy."

Quinlan shrugged. "It's a compromise. It makes you happy. And it's not like those lines kill me or repulse me or anything. Well, they make me horribly embarrassed, but I can deal with that. They're just words. I want you to be happy."

And now Griff's heart felt ten sizes too small.

He leaned in and kissed Quinlan hard, brushing his hands over Quinlan's skin to leave his scent all over his mate. "Mine."

Pop!

Griff looked up at the sound, only to find colorful confetti floating gently down around them. Cock-shaped confetti. The pieces fluttered and landed in Quinlan's hair, a purple paper dick on his nose.

He looked adorable.

"That's to celebrate your news," Hex declared, popping more confetti above their heads. "Congrats!"

"Shouldn't these be baby-shaped instead of cock-shaped?" Quinlan asked.

"No, fireheart." Griff cackled. "The question should be ‘Shouldn't the cock confetti be bigger?'"

Quinlan rolled his eyes, but he was laughing. Griff had to kiss him again.

Then he remembered the forgotten pancakes and leaped to his feet. "I need to make you all the pancakes! You must be starving. I'll make another three batches for you and both lil flames—"

"Griff," Quinlan said exasperatedly. "Slow down. I'm not starving yet."

"I need to provide for you," Griff said urgently. "When I'm done with breakfast, I'll make sure our lair is perfect for our new dragonet."

He turned the stove back on, poking at the half-cooked pancakes on the griddle. Would they continue to cook where he'd left off? Just to be safe, he flipped them, but the pancakes tore open.

"Oh, no." Griff's shoulders slumped.

Thin arms wrapped around his waist from behind. Quinlan poked his head around Griff's side. "What's wrong? Oh. It's fine, Griff. They digest in our bellies the same anyway."

"But they're not perfect," Griff cried.

"After a few months of being a dad, you won't care so much about perfection anymore," Quinlan said dryly. "As long as we're fed, that's good enough."

"Oh, fireheart." Griff turned and cupped Quinlan's face. "I will make everything perfect for you. Just you wait."

Quinlan rolled his eyes, but his smile was fond as he leaned his entire weight against Griff's body, trusting Griff to keep him upright.

Griff couldn't help touching Quinlan's belly again. Their baby was in there.

He was reluctant to take his hand off, except Carty came wheeling into the kitchen right then, wheels skidding across the floor. Annie was clinging to the front of the cart, upright on two feet.

At Carty's sudden braking, Annie tumbled backward into the nest of blankets in the steel basket.

"Annie," Quinlan cried.

Griff held his breath, following close behind as Quinlan hurried over.

The baby rolled onto her front, got on her hands and knees, and unsteadily pushed herself to her feet like she hadn't just taken a tumble.

"Oh, gods, Annie," Quinlan wheezed. "Was that your first time standing up? I was so worried!"

Griff frowned. "You left her in the cart by herself?"

"I told Carty not to leave the building," Quinlan said guiltily. "And I didn't realize Annie could stand upright! I figured Carty would show her around and come back to me. It's been so mellow ever since you hammered him back into shape."

Griff rubbed his back. "Well, they came back safe and sound."

"They did. But they won't get any more unsupervised tours." Quinlan sighed, scooping Annie out of the cart. "Sweetheart, you almost gave me a heart attack."

She babbled at him and blew more spit bubbles, smiling when Griff leaned in to look at her.

"Hey, lil flame." Griff nudged their noses together. "You went on an adventure!"

She blew a huge, iridescent bubble in his face, giggling when it popped.

"Oh, you are adorable like your daddy," Griff sighed.

Quinlan raised an eyebrow. "I'm adorable?"

"Of course." Griff buried his nose in Quinlan's hair, realizing suddenly that it wasn't just Quinlan's breath that smelled like smoke—it was all of him.

Because he was pregnant. With their baby.

Griff rumbled, his heart fluttering. "You're going to get a sibling soon, Annie," he whispered. "You'll get to be a big sis!"

Annie kicked and smiled, and Griff's entire soul felt warm.

What if he could be her dad, too?

"I want something spicy," Quinlan said suddenly. "Peppers and tuna."

Griff nodded. "I can make that. We have both."

"And sour cream. Lots of sour cream. Stir them all up."

Griff froze. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." Quinlan lifted his chin. "This is also a merfolk pregnancy, you know."

That made Griff's breath catch. "Is our baby going to be both a dragonet and a merchild?"

"I don't know," Quinlan admitted.

They both looked at his belly again, and Griff couldn't help touching him there. "How is it gonna work, anyway? Will the wet bubbles prevent our baby from breathing fire?"

Quinlan shrugged. "Maybe our baby will end up spitting hot bubbles at people."

"Awwww!" Griff grinned and dropped a kiss on Annie's head, before turning back to his pancakes. They were overcooked; he scraped them onto his own plate of rejects and poured another batch.

Then, he began making Quinlan's special tuna mush.

"Raw tuna, or cooked?" Griff asked.

"Raw is fine."

Griff chopped up some thawed tuna, threw in pieces of diced habanero, and spooned some sour cream onto the pile.

"I want the whole tub of sour cream in there," Quinlan said.

"But..." Griff emptied all the sour cream onto the plate, carefully mixing it up.

It looked... unappetizing. There was way too much sour cream. It slopped everywhere. But Quinlan made a happy sound and dropped a pancake onto the mess, before bringing the plate to his spot on the breakfast counter.

"Mmm." Quinlan shoved some into his mouth. "Want some?"

Annie reached for it, wanting a bite, too.

Quinlan winced. "Not for you, hon. You can't have the habaneros."

Annie scrunched up her face and tried to reach for Quinlan's food again.

"I'll make some without the habaneros," Griff said, pulling out another slab of tuna and a fresh container of sour cream. He used a new cutting board, and a new knife too. So there was no chance of the habanero spice getting onto Annie's food.

Quinlan's smile was all warmth.

When Griff presented Annie with her own bowl of sour cream and tuna, this time with much less sour cream, Quinlan reached out, linking his fingers with Griff's. "You'll be a good dad," Quinlan murmured. "I can feel it."

That made Griff's day.