Can't Get Enough (Dragon Kin) - G.A. Aiken Page 0,57
Bastard.
Ailean found Shalin in the hatching chamber. With gentle flame, she blew on the egg and brushed it with her claw while holding a book with the other. After eight sons and daughters already, the whole process seemed to have lost most of its allure for his Shalin.
“Well?” he asked, walking in.
“Give it time,” she said without raising her head from her book. “You’re too impatient.”
“I miss you,” he growled and Shalin smiled, finally looking up at him.
“And I miss you, you old bear. But only a dragoness can protect her egg properly.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means yelling at your own that they need to get a move on because you’re bored is not how the life-giving process works, my love.”
“That was one time.”
“You’re much better once they’re out of the egg than while they’re in it. But barely.”
The shell cracked and Shalin grinned, motioning him forward. He’d missed the last three because he’d been off in battle against the Northland dragons. But he’d been very glad to be here for this one.
He stood over the egg and watched as a small black fist punched through the shell. He went to remove more of it but Shalin slapped at his claws.
“Leave it be, Ailean. They must do this on their own.”
He sighed impatiently and stared. A few more punches. Several long pauses. And then the top of the shell broke off. Ailean leaned over even farther and looked in. Pitch-black eyes nearly covered by pitch-black hair glared up at him.
“Is he supposed to frown like that?”
Shalin leaned over like her mate. “He’s serious, is all.” She leaned in a bit closer. “And I’m not sure he likes you.”
Ailean smirked. “Thank you.”
The hatchling finally looked away from him and at his mother. The glare faded to a much more neutral frown and Shalin reached for him.
“Let’s see you, little one.” She lifted him up and said, “A male.”
“Another one? We need more daughters.”
“Must you complain? I’ve given you nine all together. Four of them daughters. You’re lucky you got any hatchlings at all.”
His son wrapped around Shalin’s neck, his long black tail looping around her arm.
“Maybe this one will be a scholar, eh?” Ailean said hopefully.
“I don’t think we should hold our breath for that anymore.”
Ailean leaned in close to get a better look at his son. “What will we call him?”
“I don’t know.”
The dragon turned and glared at his father and then unleashed a puff of smoke that, when he was older, would be a deadly ball of flame.
Coughing, Ailean stepped back. “Little bastard.”
Shalin laughed out loud, no longer remotely shy after so many years around his kin. “Ailean,” she chastised. “Be nice. You’re probably scaring him.”
“This one doesn’t look scared of a damn thing.” A good warrior he’d make with his horns already growing in. Although Ailean did hold out hope that at least one of their offspring would be more reader than born killer. At least for Shalin’s sake.
“I know what we can name him,” he finally said, once he brushed the soot off his snout.
“It better not be ‘little bastard.’”
“No. No. That name your father always liked. What was it?”
Nearly a decade ago, Shalin had lost her father and it had devastated her. And although she’d gotten through it as they all knew she would, Ailean still knew she missed the old brown dragon every day.
Shalin looked at her son. “Bercelak. He always liked the name Bercelak.”
“Aye. That’s the one.” They’d already named their oldest Baudwin, so Ailean thought they could use one her father had liked. “What do you think, little bastard? Bercelak the Black fit you well enough?”
“Stop calling him little bastard.”
“He is a little bastard.”
Glaring at her mate, she pulled her son off her neck and into her arms. “Would you like that, my son? To be Bercelak the Black?”
Still too young to answer, the small dragon instead studied his mother intently. Small black claws petting her cheeks, down her snout. She nuzzled him and Bercelak nuzzled her back.
“Aye,” she finally said. “I think that name fits him well.” She hefted Bercelak in her arms. “He needs to sleep now and, later, he’ll feed.”
She turned to walk toward the pitfire and that’s when the little demon lashed at Ailean with his tail, almost taking out an eye. The glare he gave his father over his mother’s shoulder told Ailean all he needed to know about this one.
“You’ll stay?” Shalin asked as she stretched out by the fire, her son tucked tight into her arms.
“Aye. I will.” Ailean settled in behind her and kissed her neck. “Now tell me what’s wrong. You’re worried. I hear it in your voice.”
“With Adienna on the throne now? Of course I’m worried.” But she still tangled her tail with his own—gods, he loved when she did that. Whether as dragon or human, Shalin made every moment they shared perfect.
“Don’t be. They’ll all be ready when the time comes. Especially this one. Look at that angry face, Shalin. He’ll take care of himself just fine.”
“Aye, Ailean,” Shalin teased, rubbing the frown lines on her son’s forehead, “but besides us, who will ever love him with such an angry frown?”
“Who says I love him?”
She slammed her elbow into his stomach so hard he could only gasp. And, for the first time, the little bastard grinned.
“I’ll find him someone,” Ailean vowed through gritted teeth, watching as his newest son fell asleep against his mother’s shoulder.
“Think he’ll ever find what we have?” she whispered, her voice sounding drowsy, her body relaxing against his.
Holding his family close to his heart, Ailean whispered back, “We can only hope he’ll be that lucky.”