eyes was commanding. “My seed will take root, and you will carry my youngling.”
Leyloni’s sex clenched around his finger, still sensitive from their mating, still yearning for his tongue.
She had never thought that she would have this—a mate of her own.
Not only a mate, but a son. And soon… I will carry Arysteon’s young, as well.
This was her family, her clan.
She’d gained so much more than she ever could have hoped for in the wake of tragedy. Her heart, though still heavy with grief, was near to bursting with happiness.
Arysteon’s gaze remained locked with hers as he delicately withdrew his finger and settled his palm over her belly. His lips quirked into a grin that flashed his sharp teeth, making her insides quiver anew. “Soon, my mate, life will grow inside you, and our clan will grow with it.”
Leyloni placed her hand atop his, brushing her thumb over his knuckles. She had seen many of her tribe sisters with their bellies round, carrying little ones that would eventually fill their people with joy, that would be the future of their tribe. She’d never been chosen for that honor, and her only taste of it had been through those other women—through Atalla.
What would it feel like to have a baby growing in her womb, knowing it was Arysteon’s? What would it feel like to have it move inside her?
And what would their children look like? Would they have scales or skin? Would they have horns, claws, and tails? Would their features be mix of human and dragon, not unlike the form Arysteon was in now?
There was only one certainty—she loved those children already, just as she loved Serek, just as she loved her dragon.
Serek continued babbling, his legs in the air as he held onto his feet with both hands.
Leyloni smiled and drew herself up, catching Arysteon’s face between her hands and pressing her mouth to his. He groaned and leaned closer, nipping at her lips, but she pulled away before the kiss could go any further.
“I am sure Serek’s good mood will only last for so long before he demands to be fed,” she said.
Arysteon hummed thoughtfully, sitting back on his heels. “I suppose you have tended to my hunger enough for the time being.”
She chuckled as she rose, caressing Arysteon’s jawline and horns with her fingertips. “I will tend to more of your hunger later. And you can be sure to…quench your thirst.” Her cheeks warmed.
He stood up as well, lifting a hand to brush the backs of his fingers across her cheek. “My heartsong, we could share a thousand lifetimes and my thirst for you would never be quenched.”
Leyloni’s heart quickened. She couldn’t look away from him, couldn’t break eye contact. That little spark of lightning that had formed in her chest when she first touched him was alive and thrumming, having blossomed into something deep and powerful, and it responded to him just as strongly as the rest of her, if not more so.
It was Arysteon who finally broke the spell, stepping away from her with a soft, knowing smile upon his lips. “Tend to our fierce little dragon. I will see if I can find fresh food for our morning meal.”
Her chest constricted and suffused with alarming heat as she watched Arysteon disappear into the foliage. She swallowed thickly against her sudden distress, fighting the urge to get up and follow him, to keep him in sight.
A soft, questioning sound from Serek drew her attention to him.
He grinned, displaying his gums and his four tiny teeth, cooing and laughing as though she’d said something amusing. That quickly, the anxiety that had taken hold of Leyloni eased. Everything was all right. They were fine.
Leyloni chuckled. “One moment, little one.”
After hurriedly straightening her clothing and retying its laces, she gathered and folded the blankets, stuffing them into the bags. She felt Arysteon’s seed leak from her as she moved, wetting her inner thighs. Biting her lip, she used a spare cloth and water from the waterskin to clean herself, silently mourning the loss of physical contact with her mate.
After she was clean, she tended to Serek, who had thankfully remained in good spirits despite his undoubted hunger and soiled diaper cloth.
This morning had presented a simple routine to which she could easily grow accustomed—the dawn of a new day, yes, but also of a new life to share with her mate and son. Her body ached from yesterday’s attack, sporting several dark, blotchy bruises, and she knew her