Chapter Eleven

Casimir

It was still early enough that the street was deserted except for one small, winged dog sniffing around one of the yards across the street. I stared at my phone. I wasn’t calling Castor. I didn’t need to call Castor. We had a family link, and I’d make good use of it if I wanted to talk to him. There was no one to call. I needed a minute. A long fucking minute.

My dragon reared back inside his inner sanctum ready to burn the world down but I stopped him. This was our mate’s home. We weren’t on Earthside. Ren was beyond being hurt anymore. Ren was beyond --- Well, Ren was beyond everything and everyone now. She barely recognized her mate. As much as I liked to think she recognized me and remembered who I was to her, I wasn’t sure about that at all.

The phone vibrated in my hand. Castor’s face flashed across the screen.

“Shit!” I swore under my breath. I’d lost my grip on it all again. How much had he picked up?

“Hey, Cas,” I answered, leaning my palm against the door, trying to sound casual.

“You need to get back here now!” he said, urgency dancing on each syllable he spoke.

“My egg?”

“Is safe. Rocking. It’s going to hatch soon, cousin. Come back. Bring your mate. It’s okay. The egg’s okay.”

I let go of a long breath and pulled away from the door before my talons had a chance to come out and do damage.

“We’ll be there soon. Let Melon know, okay?”

“I will. Be safe and hurry up. You don’t want to miss this, cousin,” he said, and I ended the call.

I had to get my shit together. I was about to be a Frost-damned dad. This wasn’t the time to let the past play me for a fool again. This wasn’t the time to think about Ren and her---

I breathed out and killed the thought in its tracks as the front door swung open.

“Melon poked me over the flight link when she couldn’t get you,” he said, shoving a pair of grey sweatpants at me. “They’re mine but I wear them big to sleep in. They should work for you. I wasn’t trying to be nosy or anything.”

“It’s okay. You can talk to Melon. I’m not her dad,” I said and Tritus flinched.

“Shit. Sorry, mate. I didn’t mean to snap like that. It’s the hangover, I think.”

“Do you want me to meet up with you later?”

My heart dropped into my stomach. He didn’t want to come see my egg hatch. He didn’t want to be there for the proper birth of my first born.

“Fuck it!” He tossed his hands up in the air. “You have to tell me what you want.” Tritus spoke each word with slow and deliberate enunciation. “I can’t read you at all! You smell mad and distant and---”

“I want you to come with me!” I said, barely keeping the roar out of my voice.

Relief washed over Tritus’s scent.

“Okay. I will,” he nodded. “Give me a minute to grab something to wear.”

“We’ll eat on the ship,” I called after him. “We’ll both feel better after some food.”

At least I hoped we would.

While Tritus got dressed I took long, deep breaths, pushing the whole Ren situation out of my thoughts. She was where she was, and I was here. I was here and about to be a damn dad for the first time. I’d just met my mate and was about to be a dad with a real baby and a real life and --- And she’d never have anything like this.

“Ready?” Tritus appeared at the door in a pair of black denim pants and a matching shirt.

“Yeah,” I said, taking his hand and making myself smile.

How could one dragon feel so many damn emotions at one time?

***

Kelp wasn’t in the nest with Melon and the egg when we arrived at the ship. No one was in the nest with Melon except for our rocking egg. I climbed in without thinking and across the room Kelp grumbled something about how she must like me more than she liked him. I rolled my eyes but now wasn’t the time to growl at or offer him comfort. Now was all about my hatchling.

Tritus stopped with Castor and the others. I almost called him in but stopped short. Melon’s lips were curled into a snarl. Everything inside me softened for a minute. We were never going to fall in love. We both knew it from the get-go. We both needed too much space and to be too in charge of our own lives. Between us there was too much alphahood but there was also a friendship.

“Melon,” I whispered her name, and she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye. “Thank you for calling Tritus. We drank whiskey last night. Like a lot of it.”

She nodded and glanced back at our rocking egg.

“Don’t worry. I haven’t told him everything either.”

“You’ve been a fool as long as I’ve known you. So that checks out,” Melon said without looking at me.

“You are too,” I shrugged. “You know Kelp isn’t going to hurt the egg or the hatchling inside of it.”

I couldn’t believe I was the one trying to soothe her enough to let her mate back into the nest with my egg.

“Not on purpose,” she said, and I winced.

“Hey,” Castor called from across the room. “I want both of you to calm down if you’re able to. Now isn’t the time to talk about accidents.”

My dragon reared his head back ready to roar but something cracked nearby, and he nearly choked on the sound and the fire that he planned to unleash. A whole right foot stuck out of the egg. Melon grabbed my hand and together we inched forward. She stretched out on her belly and stroked the sole of our baby’s foot. I stayed on my knees, alert for threats. Had she caught my worries or was her dragoness just acting on the instincts of a first-time nester?

I watched as she tickled the baby’s foot until the other one kicked the already made hole wide enough for both feet to kick out from. She laughed and the room sighed in relief. She wouldn’t have been the first nesting carrier to burn down a village. Taking the smart way out, our baby kicked and kicked again until the shell crumbled and collapsed around her. She was just as red-headed as her mother with big blue eyes and a tiny pink star on her chest that matched mine.

“Ren,” my dragon muttered but I pushed him away before his monologue started. I wasn’t about to name our beautiful, happy baby after Ren. I loved her but her story wasn’t one for anyone to wish on their child.

“Casalona,” Melon said as if she already decided the name before the baby ever hatched.

Kelp grumbled behind us, but I gave him a pass. Tritus smelled envious too. Not that ragey-smashy sort but the longing sort. My heart ached for him, but I wouldn’t have traded the baby laying between us covered in bits of shell for anything. She was important. Every baby was important and deserved a chance to be happy.

Together, we cleaned up the baby and Melon held her to her chest. We shared a long look. Our time together had been crazy but she’d come out of it. I glanced at Tritus and then in Kelp’s direction. She sighed but nodded and I waved to them to join us in the nest.

Silently, I promised that I would, somehow, get my shit together, before I passed on whatever unhealthy, learned mechanism inside me to her. This was my burden to carry, and she should never have the weight of the lives that came before sitting on her shoulders. Not her or any of my future children.