Page 67 of The Dragon at the End of This Pregnancy

Still, nature called. I hurried from the nest. I was still washing my hands in the stream when Mac called to me.

"Galen! Hurry!"

That could only mean one thing! On the way back, I tripped over a rock and stubbed my toe. It burned, but I kept running until I was at the lip of the bowl.

I skidded to a stop and surveyed the beautiful image before me. Mac had stripped the blankets away, and our beautiful eggs shone in the sunlight. They were almost transparent, which was more apparent in the sunlight than it had been under the blankets.

I also had a surplus of magic compared to the last few days. That should have been my first clue we were about to have hatchlings, but I was lucky I could remember my name with as much sleep as I'd gotten the last few days. Every time I started to drift off, a new worry popped into my head. What if we weren't good parents? What if Olaf was wrong about the way to break the curse?

At the first tremor, I slid down the embankment. "This won't do." I looked down at my kobold alpha form.

Mac wordlessly tugged both eggs closer to his pretzeled legs and grinned. "You won't need to conserve your magic anymore." He pointed to the large crack down the side of the dragon egg, and the tiny puncture at the top of the kobold egg.

I couldn't let my babies greet me like this. I shifted, wings first, raising myself above the nest and gently landing along the far edge. In my dragon form, the bowl was almost too small for the four of us. I rested my tail on the ledge behind Mac, so I didn't crush him.

"Hello babies." I cooed at them, nudging the shells with my snout.

I didn't hear any response, but that wasn't unusual. Our little ones wouldn't vocalize until their first molts. For our kobold, that would be in a week. For our dragon, it would be a few months.

Not for the first time, I worried I would be an impatient parent. Mac sometimes said I overreacted to minor changes, and this was a major one. We were about to have two additions to our family who relied on us for everything.

The dragon egg shook, and my fear succumbed to the awe of watching yet another deep crack mar the shell from top to bottom. The egg trembled and a huge chunk of shell fell to the nest, exposing our baby's left side. They were all-black like me, but their wings and claws were gray, with a sheen of opalescence.

They stood on their back legs, and the top of the shell stuck to their head, still covering their eyes.

"Let us see you, little one," Mac said, his voice soft so he wouldn't startle them.

We both knew better than to help the baby from the egg, though it took every ounce of my willpower.

They shook their head, and the eggshell slipped to one side, finally sliding down their wing and falling to the floor. They had the sweetest little dragon face, and their eyes were brown, like Mac's. They would remain that color until they could breathe fire after their third molt.

Mac spread his arms wide, and the little dragon scampered onto his lap. With wide eyes, Mac slid beneath my wing, cradling the beagle-sized baby close to his chest. "They have all their wing claws and toes!" He looked up at me and grinned. "There's your paragon, baby. Want to say hi?"

Though they couldn't vocalize, they made a high purring sound in their chest. They snaked their neck around Mac's, and then they dropped awkwardly to their wing claws and feet. This time, the sound in their chest was more of a grunt. They clambered awkwardly on their claws for a few steps, becoming more and more steady as they went.

I lowered my head to their level and covered them in a welcoming burst of smoke. "Hello, little one."

They closed their eyes and my smoke rolled over them, coating them in my scent. "Welcome, little dragon. I'm so glad you're here."

My neck was far too big for them to wrap around, but they rubbed their snout along my wing. I did my best to pet them with a wing claw, but this form would never do. I was too jealous of Mac's ability to hold our baby in his arms, and to pat our little kobold egg, which had rocked on its base once and stilled.

I shrank back to my kobold alpha form. The spell to put on pants, which had been difficult even two hours ago, took much less time and effort.

"We have to name them," Mac said.

"Slate." I picked them up so there was no confusion. "You are as sleek and strong as the stone in the quarry."

Mac patted their head and slid an arm over my shoulder, turning me back to the egg still in our nest. "Slate," he whispered. "I like it."

"You get to name her," I said.

He sputtered. "What? We didn't agree to that! We have names picked out!"

"Yes. I picked Slate, so it's your turn to choose for our little girl."

"I'm not even good at naming dragonets," Mac whispered.

"You'll know the right name for her, the same way I knew Slate's." The little dragon clawed their way onto my shoulders and then snaked their neck out to rest their head on Mac's shoulder. Together, we sank down and leaned forward to watch the kobold egg's progress.

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