Page 74 of Emerald Waves
“If I’m grumbling, it’s because this is just the tail end of the truck. We’ve still got the rest of it to unpack.”
“Some is furniture,”
“Wood or stone?”
I chuckled and shot him a look. “A mix of both.”
“Of course it is.” Odem muttered as we carefully placed the blankets on top of an already precariously balanced pile and headed back for more.
Since there was no way I was risking damage to the house now that several of the renovations had already been completed, we had to move things in our human forms, which took much longer than if we’d been able to carry the contents of the van inside in our dragon ones. Of course, if we’d tried to do that, the doorways would have suffered, and my mate would have fixed me with the narrow-eyed stare he’d been perfecting ever since he’d seen the initial damage I’d done.
Needless to say, he had not been thrilled, despite thoroughly enjoying the more laid back, cozy feel of the new living room. I had made a few adjustments since our initial plans, opting for all bookshelves instead of building stands for aquariums. It was hard, but I was slowly beginning to grow more comfortable replacing my old routine with the new one. I had not been back to the sea since we’d ‘rescued’ Emerson from his little adventure with the Merdragons. I let my horde be enough, though I still had not gotten back to work on that bassinet.
I would, though.
I’d promised Emerson and our son.
I was having a son.
Twin spikes of giddiness and fear surged through me. I knew I’d love him with the whole of my soul, the same as I did Emerson, but could I be a good role model, a good teacher, and a positive influence in my son’s life? I truly hoped so. I’d do my best to be for sure. But there was always that nagging part, deepinside, that knew my best wasn’t nearly as good as it should be. The training session with Raven, and subsequent battle with the Gorynych, had more than driven that point home for me.
“Hey, you gonna tell me where this stuff goes or are we going to stand here until our claws take root?”
Odem’s words cut through my thoughts, prompting me to focus. What the hell was I even carrying again? Shit. I glanced down at the heavy crate in my arms, cocking my head so I could read the writing on the side. Oh, right, okay, if this was the big, oval swing bassinet we’d chosen for the library, then yup, Odem carried the one we’d selected for the bedroom.
“Can you drop that off in the bedroom and meet me in the library?” I asked. “I’d like to get this installed while Emerson is still working down in the horde.”
“I still can’t get over what an amazing collection of sea life you’ve amassed and rehabilitated,” Odem declared. “Kinda pissed that you hid it from me too, I’d have loved to sit in there and stare at the tanks. Do you ever pet them?”
“I do, and I slip into the bigger tanks to swim with them sometimes. They are my friends. I know they’re not supposed to be and that I was wrong for stepping in and caring for them instead of letting Mattias handle them, but the connection I feel with them, I can’t explain, when it goes against my own element. I feel so little from the earth, and so much death.”
I shuddered as I accidentally revealed one of the few secrets left that hadn’t been ripped out of me already. Every year humans carved deeper, every year they destroyed more. Tore out the forests, wrecked the mountains mining and the prairies putting up confinement farms that were utterly cruel to the animals. Drilling for oil, blasting holes through the rock formations, I’d felt each scar and harsh blow, and taught myself how to turn it off, so I wasn’t buried in despair. Along the way,I’d maybe turned it off a little too far, but the pain of it all was overwhelming.
My brothers would never understand it.
Emerson and Cade were the first bits of joy I’d had in my life, aside from the creatures in my horde, in eons. Maybe it had been selfish, not sharing, but they’d saved me from crawling away to make a hole in the rock and curl up in there until the earth buried me.
“Hey.”
Odem’s hand on my shoulder startled me from my thoughts. I hadn’t heard him return from the bedroom, but his hands were empty so he must have already dropped off the crate holding the bedroom bassinet.
“Sorry, were you talking to me again?” I said, turning towards him only to realize that I still held the crate with the bassinet swing in my arms, feet rooted to the living room floor.
“No. You spaced out again, but somewhere in whatever you were thinking about, I started to pick up vibes that just felt a little off coming from you.”
“Then stop trying to read them and help me get this hung,” I said, stepping past him and heading for the library, determined to focus on what I was supposed to, rather than the past.
Inside the room, we carefully unpacked the swinging bassinet, and laid out all the pieces, along with the tools we’d need. Drilling into thick, sturdy wood was easy, the two of us trying to make sure the second hole would be level with the first one, not so much. We tried using an actual level, but without a flat surface to place it on, we quickly realized that it wasn’t going to work. We tried measuring, only I got distracted again and forgot the numbers, then got upset with Odem for pressing me about what continued to pull my focus away today. We tried the string method, only one of the ends accidentally tickled Odem’s nose and he sneezed, roasting a few inches off it. Certain it would bethe easiest way to go, minus anymore mishaps, I cut another piece of string and stretched it across the space while he stood back and made sure that it wasn’t slanted.
Finally, success. Thank the goddess for that. A couple more holes, and several bolts, screws and reinforced safety bars later, and the swinging bassinet was hung in a way that would allow our little egg to get plenty of light, and his Daddy to reach him while remaining seated at his desk.
It was a win for everyone.
“Thanks for lending a helping claw,” I said, hoping to walk him to the door without him noticing he was being ushered out.
Unfortunately, my brother had been far more perceptive than usual lately, or maybe he just finally found his serious side after the Gorynych attack. Being there with our mates and little ones instead of fighting could not have been easy, and yet his connection with the twins made him the best one, outside of their parents, to keep them calm. As they got a bit older, the hope was that he’d be able to help them better control their flames, so that every stuffed toy and blanket didn’t end up with holes burned in them and an array of scorch marks.
“Thank me by telling me what’s up with you,” he insisted, slowing his steps until we wound up in a stare down in the living room. “The way you’ve drifted in and out today, the hint of sadness and despair I picked up on, that’s not like you, brother. Is it just the whole Emerson with egg thing that’s got you spacing out all over the place, or is there something more going on?”
