22. Jackson

Chapter 22

Jackson

While the nest was quite comfortable, every so often a twig or a branch would poke through the bedding and pillows that we'd piled on top. I should have been thankful Marcelo didn't go the traditional route and lay the eggs in a cave.

But I didn't like cobwebs, and while that might not have factored into his decision, I was so glad I didn't have to spend weeks in a dark, dank cave.

"Breakfast's ready." Brooklyn walked in with a tray for Marcelo, and I carried another one. We argued about who would get the third tray, but I won because Brooklyn cooked.

Marcelo was in carnivore mode now that the eggs were laid, and our alpha mate had piled strips of bacon on the side of Marcelo's plate, along with a huge omelet. For lunch, I would hotfoot it to a restaurant and buy Marcelo two burgers and two servings of fries.

One of us would always be with Marcelo, and we'd both be in the nest while he showered and took a walk in the garden.

My mates were not only my loves, but they were both amazing dads, singing to the eggs and making sure they were warm and snuggly each night. I was the storyteller, relating tales about my life.

I was a little jealous that out of the six of us, I was the only one who couldn't fly, so I checked out flying lessons, determined to be with our children when they took off for the first time. It would be years before that happened, so I had plenty of time to learn, but I was determined to keep it a secret and surprise my mates.

"Do the eggs look different than they did yesterday?" I had taken pics of them every day but hadn't compared them.

"You think they're going to hatch?" Brooklyn was at my side, peering at them.

"What? They're hatching?" Marcelo joined us.

"No." What did I know about eggs and hatching other than seeing baby chicks on TV breaking out of their shells. "No, but they appear lighter, or maybe that's my imagination." I scrolled through the pics, but it was hard to compare.

"I'm going to make an egg album." It would provide precious memories for us and show kids the kids when they were older what happened during their time in the nest.

Marcelo put up his hand. "Can I have a hamburger first, please?"

I agreed, but only if he'd eat a salad with it.

After I returned with food, I sat with my laptop and organized the pics, according to date and egg. The first egg was the biggest, and it was a creamy color. Number two was a little smaller and more of a beige, while egg number three was the smallest and it had a bluish tinge.

"What do you think?" I showed my mates the screen.

"I'd like one of each egg to put on the wall." Brooklyn studied the pics and chose one of Egg 1. Marcelo did Egg 2 and me Egg 3.

"Guys, look at this." I brought up pics from the day we brought the eggs home from the mall and compared them to the ones I just took. "What do you see?"

My dragon mates studied the photos. "They're definitely lighter."

"What does that indicate?"

"They're lighter," Brooklyn announced. That sent Marcelo into fits of laughter, and I joined him. "We've not done this before, so we're not experts."

More experience than me!

If they got any paler, the shell might become transparent and we could see our babies nestled inside. I could wave and take more photos.

"Which egg is more likely to become president?" I asked my mates.

"What sort of a question is that?" Marcelo sat cross-legged in the nest, his knees resting on two eggs and one hand on the third.

"It's a silly little game, and as we're sitting here for hours every day, I thought it might be fun."

"We won't know until we meet them," Brooklyn declared.

"My turn. I think Egg 3 because they won't rush to judgment. They're more measured and considered."

My mate's brows shot up. "You got all that from an egg?" he asked.

Time to lighten the mood. "Which egg will be the fastest runner?"

My mates shared a glance. "Egg 1. They arrived first," Marcelo announced.

Okay, we were getting there—sort of.

"Which egg will be the best cook?"

Marcelo furrowed his brow in concentration, but it was Brooklyn who piped up. "Egg 2 because they're not too fast and not too slow."

I didn't want to be the only one asking the questions, so I suggested my mates take a turn, but they were happy for me to ask and them to try and answer.

Marcelo raised his hand. "I have a question. Who will be the fiercest dragon?"

I was stumped, because how did I grade a dragon's skill in killing animals for food, so I waited for Brooklyn to weigh in.

He rubbed his chin and looked at each of the eggs from different angles. He kneeled on the floor beside the nest and measured the eggs with his hand-span.

"They will all be excellent hunters because they will have Marcelo and me to teach them."

I giggle-snorted and so did our omega mate.

"I like the way you think, mate." Marcelo clapped Brooklyn on the back. I joined them in a group hug, and we encircled the eggs in the nest.

"Who will have the fiercest flames?" I suspected what they'd both say but needed to hear it.

"They all do." My mates sing-songed and swayed left and right with their arms draped around each other's shoulders.

"And why would that be?" I yelled.

"Because they have dragon dads who'll teach them how to kindle their flames." My mates high-fived one another.

I loved them so much, and they were already the best dads.

"And who will understand their human side and nurture that sensitive side of themselves?" Brooklyn was in my face, grinning.

"They all will because I'll lead by example." Tears streamed over my cheeks as I said that and pictured me and three little dragon shifters on my lap. I would do my bestest to be a good dad..

"Anyone hungry?" Brooklyn headed for the kitchen.

I suggested we order in, because even though we were in and around the nest all day and night, it was tiring being on egg watch.

Marcelo ordered a chicken curry with naan, while Brooklyn got pizza, and I had noodles.

"These are so yummy." Maybe the eggs would hatch if they got a whiff of the spicy noodles. But they'd be disappointed at not being able to eat any until they were older.

"Should I put on some music for the eggs?" That might encourage them to hatch.

But the three of us couldn't agree on what type of music, so we crossed that suggestion off the list.

"I'm pooped." I cuddled Egg 3 and covered us both with a quilt.

"I'll take first watch." Brooklyn propped himself up with pillows.

One of us was always awake at night, and Brooklyn and I took the bulk of those duties because Marcelo had given birth to the eggs and he needed his sleep.

"Wake us if the eggs are hatching, moving, jiggling, or doing anything except lying there." Marcelo's eyes were closing as he issued his instructions.

"I will."

Marcelo was soon snoring lightly, and despite being tired, I was still awake.

"Do you recall your time in the egg?" I asked Brooklyn.

"There are vague memories. I recall my fathers' voices but little else."

They were dragons inside the eggs and only changed to their human form once the shells cracked. I hoped to be able to snap pics of our little dragons because we wouldn't see them again until our children's first shift.

"What will happen if they can't break out of the shell?" I worried I'd have to pry the shell apart to rescue our little ones.

"They have their claws and those will break through an eggshell with ease."

Though my mates assured me dragons had been laying eggs for hundreds of years, as a first-time father, I worried about everything, especially because I was human and had no experience with eggs, babies, and dragons.

"All will be well, Jackson. Go to sleep. I'll wake you in a few hours to take over from me."

Brooklyn always took the longer watch, even though I insisted I would share equally. As a human, I needed more sleep than shifters, and I hated that my human frailty got in the way of my duty as a father-to-be.

But my alpha mate explained that I picked up the slack in other areas.

"What would they be?" I'd asked him one day because I couldn't think of any.

"You're the quirky dad who suggested Marcelo give birth in a ball pit and sent us on a roller coaster. You're the reliable one who goes and gets Marcelo's burgers from the place that doesn't deliver. You're the snuggly dad who lies between us in bed, and you're the dad with endless love to bestow on our children."