23. Nicholas

George was in the nest, one leg resting on each egg while humming and reading a book.

He insisted his siblings loved music because they wobbled a little when he started, and shimmered. Damon couldn't see the shimmering, but my dragon and I could. It was a faint pink hue.

The nest was so big, my mate and I were lying on the outer portion while our son was in the middle with the eggs.

"I'm so glad he has an attachment to our little ones. I hope they're going to be great friends." Damon flicked through the photos on his phone of George as a baby, the pristine nest before the eggs' arrival and after.

"They already are." We lay in one another's arms while George hummed. "That tune's familiar. What is it?"

"It's from a popular TV show about dragons."

The humming stopped, and I lifted my head to check hatching hadn't begun. I elbowed my mate, and he glanced over his shoulder. "Awww, it's an egg tea party."

This was an almost daily ritual where George grabbed plates and cups from his toy cupboard and offered the eggs imaginary cake and lemonade. He'd converse with the eggs and comment on the cake and whether it was too dry. If it was, he'd give me side-eye. It was so cute. Damon so wanted to capture it on video but didn't, considering it an invasion of privacy, even though it was happening right in front of us.

There were no disapproving gazes today, so my imaginary cake must have been moist. Phew!

"Time for roll call," George announced. "Is everyone here?" He cupped his ear. "I don't hear you." There was silence from the eggs. "Fine, I'll call your name. Egg 1?" The first laid egg wobbled slightly. "Egg 2?" There was nothing from the second, and Damon clutched his chest, panic etched on his face.

But after a few seconds that I swore felt like hours, egg 2 moved slightly.

"George?" He paused before answering, "Here."

"Dad?"

"I'm here."

"Drad?

"Present."

Our son propped up a book open at the first page between the eggs. "I'll come back later and show you the next page."

He kissed us both and raced outside, probably headed to his studio. He adored his egg siblings and us, but needed private time too.

"I guess we're up." Damon moved between the eggs, and I curled around him. "We should enjoy this peace and quiet because with two babies, there won't be much downtime."

And there wouldn't be much sex either, as we'd both be so tired. George was too young to be a babysitter while we got naked in Damon's office.

"Did you ever imagine your life like this? Two children ready to hatch and a human mate and son?" He caressed my cheek.

"Can't say I did, but the universe smiled on me when she had you call the wrong number." Not that I was pleased George had been hurt. Gods, no. But the aftermath was fate.

"Did you feel that?"

"What?" I checked the egg thermometers. They were old analog ones I got in a shifter garage sale. Both were showing normal dragon egg temperature.

"Egg 1 moved slightly." Damon put his ear to the shell as Josie said the babies moved around a lot before hatching.

Do you hear anything?I asked my beast.

Nope.

"Stay with the eggs, I'll rustle up some food." If hatching was happening today, we'd need lunches and dinners. I'd cooked up a storm before Damon laid the eggs and froze most of it, so we were covered. But I got out a container of rice and a curry, making sure we had sandwich fixings, plus cereal, fruit, and yogurt for breakfasts.

"Egg 1 definitely moved. Where's that little fort George made so they won't roll out of the nest?" Our son had been busy in the weeks after the eggs arrived, but he'd given up on the protective fort as they never moved much.

I raced in with another blanket and wrapped it around the base of both eggs before telling our son it might be hatching time.

The three of us sat in a circle around the eggs, not speaking and waiting for any cracking or movement. We pointed or jerked our heads when a small fissure appeared in the shell or the egg wobbled. George made funny faces at each stage. His brows shot up, he opened his mouth in a huge O, and he made a heart sign with his hands.

Damon grabbed one of my hands and did the same with George. I clasped our son's other hand, and the three of us sat, watching our babies.

A huge crack appeared in egg 1, cutting it in two. Thank gods we were holding George's hands because he could barely contain his excitement as he tugged at me. I shook my head. He knew not to touch the eggs, but he was a child. I probably would have done the same at his age.

Something inside the egg shoved the shell apart.

Something? That would be a baby dragon. My beast was on edge because the one glimpse we had of the dragons would be our last for many years.

A green-and-yellow, perfectly formed little dragon lay in the midst of tiny pieces of shell. The dragon took in all three of us peering at them, four if we counted my beast, flicked its tail, and was replaced by a little girl.

"A girl, a girl." In his excitement, George had forgotten the "use inside voices around the eggs" rule.

Damon picked up our daughter and held her close. I kissed her head and swaddled her before returning her to my mate's arms.

George put his face close to egg 2. "Come on, you can do it. Your sister is here. We love her already."

Damon brought our son in for a hug, and we cooed over the baby.

Not wanting to be left out, egg 2 almost rolled out of the nest. I caught our little one, but it then rolled the other way, and I saved it from smashing again. Putting a leg on either side of egg 2, I sat while it hit one knee and then the other. Back and forth.

I'm getting dizzy.

Me too. But our baby was determined to get out. Maybe the shell was extra hard.

A tiny hole appeared in the shell and a claw poked out.

George gasped. "Is this baby going to stay a dragon?" He giggled. "A dragon in diapers."

"How would you diaper a dragon?" I couldn't tell if my mate was being serious or not, but I squeezed his hand, hoping to reassure him.

Very carefully, I imagined.

"Don't worry. There'll be no dragons in diapers. We'll see the baby soon."

The claw ripped a bigger hole in the shell, and George snuck his face so close, I yanked him back. Being scratched by a dragon's talon, even a newborn, would be painful.

The hole widened, and a puff of smoke drifted through it.

"Will there be fire?" George grabbed his water bottle and aimed it at the egg.

I removed it from his hands, saying baby dragons didn't have the ability to use flames. I'd never read that anywhere, but I could put out any fire a newborn could produce.

You hope. My dragon wasn't confident.

Fear flickered in Damon's eyes. It was time for this dragon to revert to a baby. Pronto.

A green-and-yellow snout poked through the hole.

"Are they twins?" Damon peered at our little one in the egg and our first-born dragon.

"I said we were having twins." George jumped up and down.

The shell collapsed and an identical dragon to our first studied us before disappearing. Another girl.

I wrapped her up and placed her in my mate's arms, along with her sister.

"Do you think I could get into bed?" Damon asked.

The nest had done its job, and with George's help, we got my mate and the babies settled in our bed. After their first feed, the three fell asleep.

"Drad!" George's piercing cry sent shivers through me, and my body went cold. But neither Damon nor the babies stirred. "We didn't take pics of the hatching.

We had forgotten in all the excitement. I tapped my head. "But the memories will live in here forever."

"I guess." George's dejected expression tugged at my heart.

"But you can do what you do so well."

"What?"

"Paint your memories. That will make a great present for Dad and your sisters when they're older."

He hugged me. "Thanks, Drad." He tore off to his studio while I made myself a coffee and prepped lunch. Our babies had hatched and were healthy. Damon was bonding with our little ones, and once the food was ready, I'd crawl into bed with my mate and daughters.

You forgot something.

What?Oh, I hadn't cleaned up the nest. Later, much later.

Their names. You are going to name them, aren't you?