Chapter Twenty-Four

Magnus

Harbor lay on his stomach, chin on his upturned palms, staring into the basket at the eggs. It was the middle of the night.

We’d all three taken to sleeping in the room with the nest. Ayelet and I took the bed. Harbor never left the nest. Sometimes we slept with him, but even with stacks of pillows, the floor got pretty hard.

A beautiful lantern with stars carved into the holder sat near the basket.

I entered the closet and lay down beside Harbor in the nest. “Have you slept at all?”

He shook his head. “They’re due. Pips are due. Any day now. I don’t want to miss it.”

I folded him into my arms. “What if you take just a little nap and I’ll watch and wake you immediately if anything happens.”

“I’m not that tired.” He yawned.

I ruffled his hair. “Well, maybe just close your eyes for a second, okay?”

He yawned again. “Just for a second.”

I counted to ten, and he was fast asleep against my chest. True to my word, I watched the eggs. They were three of the most beautiful pink-and-blue dragon eggs I’d ever seen. I’d memorized each one’s unique whorls and patterns.

We’d been discussing names for our babies, but I had my own private names for each egg. The one on the left was Fluffy because the way the colors softened into each other made it look like velvet. The middle one was Scrunchy because the tight spirals of color almost looked like they were squeezing the shell. I called the right egg Eight because the colors made soaring figure eights all around it.

The nicknames were a private thing I kept to myself.

Gently, I brushed my fingers over the shell tops. They were warm. The basket was made to keep the eggs heated at the perfect temperature to gestate.

Harbor’s breath fluttered against my neck. He slept deeply, needing the rest.

The night was quiet, peaceful. Everything so right. A sense of wonder came over me. How far we’d come in so little time. Meeting each other. Claiming. Bonding. And now we were about to have three little babies.

I knew in this sacred moment the hatching would happen today. It was time.

“Hello, little ones,” I whispered. “Time to come out to play.”

I stared at the eggs, imagining holding the babies close to my chest, bathing them, dressing them in cute outfits, caring for all their needs.

I was the big investor dragon gone soft, dreaming of tiny T-shirts that said, Daddy’s Girl or Dad’s Little Dude .

Suddenly, someone was pounding my back.

“Magnus! You fell asleep.”

I sat up abruptly. “Wh-what? I’m awake.”

Harbor scowled. “You were snoring.”

I hung my head. “Sorry.”

Harbor leaned in to check the eggs. “No pips yet,” he reported. “Good thing. Or I’d be real mad. You don’t want to see me when I’m real mad.”

“Oh? What’s that like?”

“Unicorn gone wild.” He quirked his forefinger at me. “And remember, we have pointy horns growing out of our foreheads and they are super sharp.”

“Threats? From a spangled cutie unicorn with a mane longer than his legs and who’s made of spun sugar and funnel cake? I’ll remind you, I can shoot fireballs from my mouth.”

“Hmph.” He leaned back, pouting.

I got up and made an early breakfast. When I returned with the tray, Ayelet was up and sitting in the nest with Harbor. He still wore his boxers and favorite sleep T-shirt, showing off his long, graceful legs.

“I’m not going to work. I decided to take a paternity day today. I have a feeling,” he said.

“Me, too,” I said.

“I hope you guys are right,” Harbor said. “It’s been a lot of waiting.”

I set the tray down and we all ate. And watched the eggs.

And watched.

And watched.

Ayelet took a short nap. I fiddled with Harbor’s tablet. But Harbor would not be distracted.

It was noon when he cried out, “The basket moved!”

“What?” I stared at it.

“Just a smidge.”

Ayelet grunted and came wide awake. I tossed the tablet away. From that second on, it was all tunnel vision on those eggs.

As we stared, one of the eggs gave a single shudder. The tiniest of cracks appeared.

We all spoke at once.

“Look.”

“There’s a pip.”

“It just happened.”

We slapped each other’s backs, laughing.

“It’s the most beautiful pip in the whole wide world,” Harbor said.

“Look!” Ayelet yelled. “The middle egg has a pip now.”

“Remember.” I rubbed both my mates’ backs. “The healer said it would take at least twelve hours to hatch after the first pip.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Harbor crossed his arms.

“Not even to pee?” Ayelet asked.

Harbor made a face. “I gotta pee now.” He jumped up, ran to the bathroom, and was back in sixty seconds.

“That was fast,” I said.

“I’m fast like that,” he replied. “What’d I miss?”

Soon after, the third egg showed a pip.

The hours stretched. I cooked the meals and took away the dirty dishes. Ayelet brought clean clothes for Harbor to change into and made sure all the baby clothes, blankets, and diapers were in place. Three cribs had been set up in our master bedroom. We’d move back in there once the babies were hatched.

We had started to count the pips, celebrating each new one, but after eight hours, we lost count. Our babies were strong. They were coming out full force.

We’d just finished supper when Fluffy, the first baby, broke its egg in half and poked out its head. It opened its muzzle and let out a fierce squeak.

“It’s a dragon!” Ayelet cried.

It took another couple of hours for the dragon to shed the rest of the shell. We were lectured over and over again by the healer that we were not allowed to help, or the dragon might end up too weakened for life to ever fly.

In the meantime, the middle egg I called Scrunchy popped its own lid. A golden horn emerged followed by a lot of tangled white hair.

“A unicorn!” I announced.

Eight was the last to emerge. A baby gazelle showed its face.

“One of each!” Harbor clapped his hands.

The babies would not stay shifted long once they were all the way out of their shells. The first to turn human was the dragon. We used a soft sponge to clean him up and wrapped him in warm blankets. Our new baby dragon was a boy.

Harbor held him close to his chest.

The unicorn came next. A girl. We cleaned her up and Ayelet took her into his arms. Both babies cried at first but quieted quickly. We had bottles ready. Harbor planned to chest feed, but he couldn’t keep up with all three.

Finally, the gazelle was fully born and shifted to her human form. I took her into my arms.

“Two girls and a boy,” Harbor exclaimed. “Exactly what I wanted.”

We each held a sleeping baby as we fell in love all over again. Soon, there would be chaos, but right now, everything was serene.

“We need to come to a final decision on names,” Ayelet whispered.

Harbor held the dragon. “Let’s say we each choose for the baby we’re holding.”

“That’s fine with me,” I said.

“Sounds fair,” Ayelet said.

“Aiden. He feels like an Aiden,” Harbor said.

“I love it.” I smiled.

“Me, too.” Ayelet looked down at our unicorn daughter. “Lily.”

I nodded.

Harbor grinned. “It’s perfect.”

When I looked down at our gazelle daughter, so much love rushed up inside me. Tears formed in the corners of my eyes. “Arianne.”

“Welcome to the world, Aiden, Lily, and Arianne,” Harbor said.

Our family had just doubled in size, and I couldn’t have been happier.