“Sweetie, it could be nothing.” Maggie’s voice is worried now. The tingles of her magic try to calm my riotous heart, but to no avail.
“What’s wrong?” Kalos’s voice comes as a surprise, and the sound of it makes it easier to take a deep breath. We’ve somehow navigated all the way to Kalos’s study while I’ve been lost in my daze of panic.
Kalos strides forward from his place behind the desk, and I’m hit with the intimidation of his presence all over again.
“I have some concerns, but I need for her to try to calm down,” Maggie says. “I thought it would be better to tell the two of you together.”
His arms come around me in the next moment, and my shaky hands slide under his suit jacket. I breathe in his scent, and my heart rate starts to slow.
“Next time, just tell her. Don’t wait for me. It’s her body the child is in. She deserves to know what’s going on,” Kalos growls.
“Of course. I’m so sorry, Katarina,” Maggie says.
I just nod, focusing on keeping myself calm. “Can you please say what you’re worried about? The guesses in my head aren’t good.”
Maggie looks hesitant and glances at Kalos before starting, “The child isn’t developing.”
I tighten my hold on Kalos, not caring that we don’t have the type of relationship where I can take solace in his arms. His body is a comfort I won’t refuse.
“Explain,” Kalos commands.
“They are only a little further in their development than they were when Katarina came here last month. They aren’t progressing like a normal pregnancy. You did say that eggs can lie dormant for years at a time without enough heat to spur growth.”
I breathe out a choked sob in relief. This could just be a dragon thing. This could be completely normal.
Maggie smiles at me, but her concern is still there. “But I don’t think the gestation would be safe to leave dormant. I believe that you need to provide more heat than what you have to spur them to grow.”
“What do you suggest?” Kalos asks, his hand rubbing my back.
“More spicy foods and at least a few hours more a day of contact to start. We’ll check in a few days to reassess. Are you okay with that, Katarina?”
“Yes. Are you sure we shouldn’t be doing anything else?” I ask.
Maggie’s face softens. “You are doing everything we know will help.”
Kalos nods, and suddenly I’m weightless. He’s picked me up and is carrying me to the couch. “Please bring our dinner in here tonight, Maggie. If you can think of anything else that could help, let us know.”
And with that, Maggie is gone. Kalos sits on the couch, arranging me on his lap.
They aren’t growing. “What if—”
He interrupts me. “Everything is going to be okay.”
I scoff, and it breaks through the worry clutching my heart. “You can’t promise that.”
His chest rumbles, and a wave of comfort has my muscles starting to relax.
“Nothing will harm you or the babe, I swear it,” he continues like my words aren’t stark fact.
“You said dragon eggs needed fire, what if that’s what the baby needs, and I can’t survive that?”
“Rina, you don’t have a dragon egg inside you, but we will figure it out if that is what needs to happen.” Kalos’s claws comb through my hair, and my eyelids lower in pleasure. “For now, we follow Maggie’s orders and have more contact.”
I inhale and nod. “Okay.”
I clear my throat and look around the office. The position of me on his lap is reminiscent of when I first told him about the baby, but I don’t dare move away from him. I can feel the heat he’s giving me now. He’s giving me what the baby needs, and something about that calms me enough for embarrassment to heat my cheeks.
“I should have been calmer about the whole thing,” I say more to myself than to him. “I don’t know why I freaked out. Maggie did say it wasn’t serious yet.”
“Because you don’t have control over this.” Kalos’s voice is smooth. There’s a lulling quality to it that makes me want to rest my head on his shoulder, but I don’t want to further invade his personal space. “There are many things in life that we lie to ourselves that we are the ones who are in control, but when it comes to children, we discover how much that is a lie. Parenthood humbles everyone.”
I cough a laugh. “Like death and taxes.”
“Yes. Death and new life always travel hand in hand.” His gaze goes far away at that before focusing on me again. “The fear is natural. It’s instinctual and logical. So take a breath for me and remember that I will not leave you alone in this.”
I follow his order. His scent and the warmth flowing from his body makes it easy to take deep breaths.
“You’re good at this,” I say before pressing my lips shut. Of course he is. He had a mate before, someone who relied on him and who he loved.
The tops of Kalos’s cheekbones pinken, but he doesn’t respond.
“Can you still sense them?” I ask, looking down at my flat stomach.
Kalos’s brow creases, and his hand hesitates before coming to lay flat there. He swallows after a moment. “I can.”
The relief of that is tempered by confusion. There’s a sorrow on his face as he looks down at where his hand rests. I reach up and run a finger over the arch of his brow.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
The expression disappears like it was never there. “Don’t pay me any mind. I’m fine.”
“You looked like you were in pain.”
“Old wounds can still ache. It’s nothing.” He looks away from my imploring gaze as if suddenly interested with the view from the window. “I am relieved that they are well. The lack of development is most likely from not having enough contact. Dragons require long amounts of time in their parent’s fire.”
It suddenly occurs to me that he’s an ancient immortal being who could only breed with his mate. Had they wanted children? I don’t dare ask.
“I’m relieved that you’re relieved. Hearing that they are okay from you makes it more real,” I say.
The silence that falls starts comfortably. Our breaths come in time, our bodies in sync. The heat of his hand soothes the rough parts of my consciousness, the bits of discomfort and boredom that I’ve stumbled through for the past month, avoiding the man who holds me.
This is similar to how he holds me at night, but we aren’t sleeping, and my mind starts to wander.
His hands are covered in black scales tonight. They aren’t consistently like that. Sometimes there are fewer like the day I told him about our child, and sometimes they are like this. Barely human except in shape. He’s powerful enough to fully be human if he wanted to, but it’s as if he prefers them covered in scales. I forget myself and cover his hand with mine, the texture of them is smooth and heated.
I freeze and glance up at his face, and Kalos arches a brow at me. He doesn’t tell me not to touch him. Our bodies seem to have their own language when we’re together, one that they’ve discovered in the late hours of the night while lost to our dreams. His body cradling mine feels familiar.