Page 152 of Tsumiko and the Enslaved Fox
She turned enough to see his face. “You have a little girl?”
“A daughter and three sons.” He rested his chin atop her head. “But it has been many decades since Feloor fit so neatly on my lap.”
“You miss nestling with her?” she asked.
“Not at the moment,” he said, his tone warm. “And not for much longer. My lady carries another cub close to her heart.”
Argent murmured flowery phrases of congratulation.
Maybethiswas why Argent didn’t mind Naroo-soh getting so close. The wolf had a bondmate, unlike Hisoka and Lapis, who were bachelors. Crouched beside them, balanced on the balls of his feet, Argent radiated nothing but bored hauteur.
Tsumiko said, “I’d like to meet your daughter.”
“Easily arranged. And how is your son?”
“We named him Kyrie.”
“We?Tsk.” Argent touched her hair and tugged her hat more firmly into place. “His name and its story are yours.”
“Not entirely,” she protested. “Since you added Mettlebright to his name.”
Eyes alight, Naroo-soh offered flowery phrases of congratulation.
Cousins and crossers. Territories and traditions. As their conversation drifted from one topic to the next, Tsumiko gradually became aware of their eavesdroppers. Some were more subtle than others. Like Harmonious and Adoona-soh, who had ceased their capering to sprawl upon the shoreline, a pair of furry windbreaks with pricked ears. But Lapis watched with open interest as he licked blood from his claws.
Hisoka stood aside with eyes downcast, but the hint of a smile touching his lips left Tsumiko feeling vaguely patronized. But mostly grateful.
This was his doing. And it was good.
. . .
The next time Hisoka approached, he contrived to be thoroughly outnumbered. Tsumiko was in a proprietary pile-up, snug between Argent and Gingko on the latter’s kitchen sofa, with Risk and Dare warming her feet. The rest of the wolves were out on patrol, but Harmonious had remained back, ostensibly to make faces at Lilya while Sansa bathed her in the kitchen sink.
Most of Tsumiko’s attention belonged to Kyrie. He was fresh from his own bath, and she was rubbing oil into his skin, paying special attention to his supple scales. “Like this?” she murmured.
Argent huffed. “He has no complaints.”
“Now.” Gingko tapped the little guy’s nose. “He hollered plenty while Sansa was washing his hair.”
“Maybe the water was too hot?” Tsumiko gently stroked Kyrie’s temple, and he gurgled, his eyes half-lidded in contentment.
“Too cold, I should think.” Hisoka stayed well back, and he offered an apologetic gesture for interrupting. “Since he is part dragon.”
Argent inclined his head. “Kyrie may well have a better tolerance for heat than for cold.”
“Perhaps we should consult with an expert on such matters?” Stepping to one side, Hisoka raised his voice to include the person loitering at the table, his fingers tangled around a squat mug of tea. “Well, Lapis?”
The dragon spokesperson tucked his chin guiltily, as if he’d been caught snitching pastries from the pantry. He glared rebelliously at Hisoka. “I have never claimed to be an expert in the care or tending of hatchlings.”
Harmonious chuckled. “Stars above, Mossberne. I can understand why you’re fuzzy on details, but the boy wasn’thatched.”
“It is a figure of speech,” Lapis muttered sulkily.
“Kyrie is part dragon,” said Hisoka. “Does that not mean you speak for him, Lapis?”
“You already have my promise where crossers are concerned.” Lapis’ gaze flicked briefly to Tsumiko’s. “I willingly accept responsibility for all persons of dragon heritage.”
Argent spoke up. “Will you take a look, then? You must be curious. And Iknowyou would not harm a child I consider my own.”
