Stella’s face is pained. “I should have said something as a charm maker, but it honestly didn’t occur to me. You haven’t been seeing anyone, and some witches have weird side effects, so it wasn’t odd to me that you didn’t have one. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” The numbness starts to recede, and I shake my head. If I’m going to blame anyone, it would be Nemo, but even he didn’t do this on purpose. It would be just like him to be so thoughtless to not mention anything. Or so self-centered he didn’t even know.
Really, this is just another casualty of my ignorance.
And now I’m… pregnant. My lungs empty on that thought. Stella places a hand on my shoulder. The warmth of her presence is a comfort I’ve lived without most of my life.
“If this is unwanted, there are options. Safe options. If it’s from last night, it’d be a simple thing,” Stella tentatively says.
My hand goes to my stomach again, protectively. I clock the instinct and I shake my head, trying to dispel the reaction.
I can’t be getting attached. It might be the best option.
“It’s from last night. If I had any other wild nights, I’d have told you,” I say.
Stella snorts. “I figured… it’s just surprising.”
Surprising is one word for it.
What kind of mother would I be, really? What life could I provide?
A pretty good one actually.
I am more than a product of my upbringing, a statistic of unwed and pregnant too young. A lot of people get pregnant in their twenties on purpose.
I have my own business that is doing okay. I’m making my amends where I can, other than last night. I’m healthy and smart, if a little reckless at times. I have a best friend and resources.
I could have this. I could have a child, a family of my own. Tears come to my eyes.
I want this. Oh, fuck, I really want this.
“Dragons are really rare,” Stella says, oblivious to my internal thoughts.
“Stella,” I croak.
When she takes in my tears and the hand still on my stomach, she leaves her seat and wraps me in her arms.
“Oh, honey, everything is going to be okay, no matter what you choose.”
I sniff. “I’m scared to want this, but…”
“But you’re attached?” Stella pulls away with her arms still around me, her smile is understanding.
I nod. “I want to keep it.”
“Then let’s do this!” Stella does a little dance. “You’re going to be a great mom. This is so exciting!”
I hiccup a laugh that turns into a groan.
I’m pregnant with a dragon’s baby.
I bury my face into the silky fabric of her shirt. “I’m going to have to talk to him.”
Stella runs her fingers in my hair. The action relaxes my tight shoulders. Discomfort has my throat swelling.
“I know he was a dick, and he’s a scary dragon, but did he make you feel unsafe?” she asks.
I bite my lips. Despite everything that happened last night and how he’d threatened me in the beginning… my instincts say he won’t harm me. Maybe that makes me stupid, but my instincts have saved me more than once.
Little queen. I shake the memory of the words from my mind.
“No,” I say.
Stella nods. “Then yes, I imagine you’ll need to talk to him eventually. Our world is a small one, and someone is going to notice you giving birth to a dragon. But it doesn’t have to be right now, or even this month. You can take however long you want to take. It might be better when you can prove the pregnancy other than just knowing because you’re a witch.”
I wince. “That would make it easier.”
The one sex education course I’d taken surfaces in my mind, and I frown. “There’s a chance it won’t stay, isn’t there? What with finding out so early. Humans usually have to wait weeks.”
Stella shrugs. “Miscarriages aren’t as likely for witches, but yes, if you want to wait to make sure before dealing with the dick, that makes sense.”
The relief is instant. You and I are a pretty sure thing, I think to the disruption in my middle. Now that I’ve identified the sensation, it’s not as jarring. It’s as if it’s happy that I know it’s there now.
I’m going to have a baby.
I wonder how long I can go without telling Kalos.
6
KATARINA
NOT VERY LONG.
It’s only been a week. I shiver in front of the imposing mansion door. The summer sun on the back of my jacket should be sweltering, but I hardly notice it.
I didn’t want to contact Kalos through Stella in case this went poorly. So that left showing up to the man’s house.
I don’t want to break in again, but I will if I have to. The security guard at the gate had refused to even call up to the big house, but he’d offered to take a message to deliver later. The type of thing I need to say shouldn’t be put in a message. I shrugged and thanked him for his time. It helps to be polite if he catches me later.
Getting on the grounds had been child’s play. You’d think an immortal would have better security. Maybe he doesn’t need it.
The only thief to make it into his house, he’d caught himself. Then fucked.
Good times.
I ring the bell, and the sound is melodic, pretty. Too pretty for a dragon’s lair, but he must like pretty things because in the light of day, the mansion is gorgeous. It doesn’t look like any one architecture style, but rather a mixture. A column here, an arch there, the organic flourishes of vines in the stonework. As if the designer took the best of each period and somehow baked it into a perfect cake instead of a garish collection.
I bite my lip. I don’t hear anyone coming to the door. I ring the bell again.
If no one answers, I’m going to have to break in. It will be a little more time-consuming since I’m assuming he patched the wards around the pane I’d removed last time. Honestly, I could get through the wards without the weak point, it’s just with how strong they are, it will be more uncomfortable.
I’m not leaving without speaking to Kalos. If it were just telling him about the pregnancy, I’d wait as many months as I could just to avoid how awkward this will be. To avoid the words he’s going to cast my way.
But I need help.
Finally there’s a sound on the other side of the door. The man who opens it is decently sized enough to be another security guard but wears a sleek suit.
He looks behind me as if expecting more. “How did you get past the gate?”
“I need to speak to Kalos,” I say.
His brow twitches. “It doesn’t work that way. You can’t just demand an audience with him. I’ll schedule you a meeting in the next couple of weeks—”
“That’s not going to work.” I swallow, my knees almost buckling from a wave of dizziness. “This is very important. Time sensitive.”
His eyes focus on me, worry creasing his brow. “Are you okay?”
Aw, this guy seems nice.
“Not really,” I admit. “Please, I just really need to speak with him. Tell him it’s the thief from last week. That should get his attention.”
His brows shoot up, and he reluctantly opens the door wider to let me in. I wince, but step inside. Sure enough, the interior of the house is cool. The air conditioning no doubt delightfully chilly for everyone else.