Page 42 of The Dragon's Emberlinked Mate

Which meant they were harder than our dragonets could break free from. He didn’t need to spell it out for me.

“What do we do?”

“You and your mate, go wash your hands. Get the blankets ready. We’re having these babies now.”

My body went on autopilot. My dragon helped me stay regulated enough not to break down in tears. Our kids needed us, and we wouldn’t be here for them if I allowed myself to break down now.

When we came back in, I saw why he sent us away. It had nothing to do with the handwashing, although that was never a bad idea, but he had tools. Scary-looking tools that reminded me of when I did historical research on the wars that Emmen was in. Tools that looked far more like torture devices than something that could fix a house or a car, and certainly not for medical needs.

And as I watched Vexus use them to crack the shells, my mate wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly.

“He’s got this. He’s got this. Relax, my love. Everything will be okay.”

I closed my eyes tight, unable to watch as he tapped, tapped, tapped the shell. He needed to be forceful enough to crack them open, but not so forceful that they—

I couldn’t let my mind wander there. Instead I counted… one, two, three, four, until I couldn’t even remember what number came next. And then I began again and again.

And finally I heard it, the most beautiful sound in the world. The sound of our crying baby.

When I opened my eyes, Vexus gave my mate a nod.

Emmen let go of me, and I ran over, taking our first child, our daughter, Cecile, into his arms. She was crying, and I hated that I missed her dragon’s first shift, but having her here and well was so much more important.

My mate handed her to me, and I lifted my shirt and brought her to my chest for her first meal. I counted her fingers and toes, as if looking at her hands and feet wouldn’t tell me the answer instantly.

There was another cry. This time another daughter, Clara.

Emmen took Cecile, and I took Clara, giving her her first meal. She was beautiful, but my focus wasn’t on her the way it needed to be.

Vexus was working on the final egg, and he didn’t have the same confidence as when he first began. He was nervous. I could feel it. And even if I couldn’t sense it, I’d see it in the way his hand shook slightly, sweat dripping down his brow as he worked.

It made sense this one would be the thickest of them all. This time, I didn’t let my eyes leave. As horrifying as it was to watch him use a drill, an actual drill, it did the job and started a crack. A second device helped spread it apart.

And then there were two dragonets. Vexus picked up the first and barked out my mate’s name.

Our first son, Clayton screamed at the top of his lungs as my mate balanced him in his free arm. But my eyes weren’t on them. They were on the final dragonet, the one who wasn’t moving.

Vexus stuck his hand in his bag, took out a little bottle, and poured the contents on the second twin, Cody, and two seconds later, their eyes popped wide open. For the first time, he let out a sound, and I could finally breathe.

“Little one, you are going to age me like no one else,” I murmured.

“According to my in-laws, twins have a way of doing that.” Emmen’s joke was forced, but also filled with relief.

Vexus cleaned up the nest enough for us to climb inside, and he waited outside, promising not to leave us. He was giving us time to enjoy our first few moments with them before coming in and examining them fully. He also helped clean them up and get them diapered and dressed for the first time.

“Thank you for coming, Vexus. I don’t know what we would have done without you.” My mate’s voice cracked.

“Thank your mate. He knew what to do. He saw what I had missed. Looks like the goddess picked a good one for you.”

“You don’t have to tell me that.” Emmen kissed my cheek. “I still wonder if I’m gonna wake and this is all a dream, because there’s no way I deserve a mate as fabulous as mine.”

We called my parents and brother on video chat, letting them know the good news. They planned to come in the morning to meet the little ones.

“Why do you keep laughing, Pip?” He spent most of the conversation giggling.

“You’ll find out the first time you call your kids the wrong name.”

“Why would I do that?” Although, come to think of it, my parents had done it plenty of times growing up. Maybe it came with the territory.

“Say their names again.”

I did.

“And what do they all have in common? The same first letter. Good thing you’ll live hundreds of years, you will need them all to get their names straight.”

I wasn’t so sure about that, but I did know that spending every one of those days with my mate by my side sounded like the best possible life ever.