“Yes.”
I nod, connecting the dots. “And Stella’s mom was married into them for a time. Stella isn’t involved with them at all.”
“I wish to speak to her about that then.” There’s a growl to his voice.
“I’d stake my life on that.”
“Would you stake the life of our child?” The rage from before is absent, but he’s as intense as he was.
I swallow. “Yes. I would never risk our child. Stella and I have been friends for years, and she’s hated her father for longer than that.”
“Very well.”
I open my mouth, expecting to argue with him but snap it shut at his easy acceptance. I narrow my eyes.
Kalos’s mouth twitches. “I’d still like to talk to her to see if she knows anything that could help us.”
“That’s a very different tune than just a moment ago.”
He shrugs, but his mood dims. “You calm my dragon.”
I wiggle again, looking down to see if my waistband is caught on anything and freeze. Kalos must sense my shock because he looks down as well.
My stomach, which had a barely noticeable curve to it this morning, has swollen in size. I have an unmistakable baby bump. I’d known I was pregnant before, I could feel it magically, but seeing it is very different.
Kalos’s grip on me tightens and distracts me from the wonder of the change.
“What a greedy youngling,” he murmurs with a shake of his head as if torn between amusement and an emotion that looks too much like pain. “They must have eaten up the heat my dragon didn’t temper when you stopped us.”
“I look pregnant.” I touch my stomach and it’s warm. I don’t feel the baby move yet, but maybe they’re sleeping off their feast.
“You do.” Kalos doesn’t move to touch my belly, and I don’t push him to. His too-still posture adds to a slowly growing suspicion.
My mind goes back to the incubation of dragon eggs being dependent on how much fire they’re given. How much did that fiery interference speed up this pregnancy?
“Well,” I start. “I don’t think we have to worry about if I can withstand dragon fire. It doesn’t seem like that will be necessary.” It’s one less thing to worry about, but there are so many other things to worry about. Things like baby how-to books and nurseries. I take a breath and mentally shelf all that for the moment.
Kalos merely nods. His body has receded in size, his talons and scales back to how they were except for the horns on his head.
“The horns are nice,” I say. They are dark in color and jagged like shale.
Kalos’s cheeks pinken. “It helps settle my dragon. He wants to be seen.”
I run a finger up a horn, and Kalos shivers. His dragon wants to be admired. I pull my hand away. This is a dangerous intimacy. His body is stiff against me. Neither of us had planned the moment in the kitchen.
The reasons not to be physically intimate haven’t changed. I want this dragon. I want his body, his teasing comfort, and quiet moments in the evening. I even want his arrogant snark and grumpiness.
But he doesn’t want me in the same way.
And that has nothing to do with me.
“I should get up,” I say before blushing. “We should both clean up.”
His pants must be uncomfortable by now.
Kalos tightens his grip on me. “Let me hold you for a bit. I don’t enjoy losing control of my temper, and your presence is soothing.”
“Okay.” My voice is soft. I’m comfortable on his lap. Too comfortable. I’ve tried my hardest not to soften for this dragon, but I fear I already have.
I push that line of thinking away for another time. When I’m alone I can let myself contemplate these things. For now, I’ll just enjoy this moment.
Kalos’s body straightens, and his next words are bewildered.
“Is that a cat?”
21
KALOS
I NARROW my eyes at the purring creature perched on Katarina while she naps in my arms.
We still haven’t moved from my office chair. My release dried in my pants long ago and dinner will be soon, but I can’t bring myself to wake her or face the change in her pregnancy yet.
The child tripling in size has worn her out. The child that is now hidden under the orange furball that invaded my territory weeks ago.
Not seeing Katarina’s swollen belly doesn’t negate the effect it’s having on me. I feel the child’s mind against mine, and instead of blocking myself from it, I let the flutter of emotions weather me. They’re dreaming.
Part of me wants to run as far away as I can to protect this spark of life from my tumultuous thoughts, and the rest of me wants to spread my hand over Katarina’s belly and feel the child move. To accept the gift of this for what it is.
I brush Katarina’s hair out of her face, sliding it behind her shoulder. The edges of a mark peek out from the neckline of her shirt.
The bite I’d given her during my heat is a neat scar. The white mark doesn’t stand out too much against her skin. It had healed over very quickly for a witch.
I should have known then.
But it wasn’t until the moment we believed her to be in danger that I’d known for sure.
Somehow, even without the ability to form a complete bond, my dragon has claimed Katarina as his mate.
He’s ready to accept this youngling into our lives despite the catastrophe of last time.
I’m the one who is still broken and unable to move on.
The cat leaving its place on Katarina is the only warning I get in the hurricane of my thoughts. The doors to the office burst open, and Katarina startles awake in my arms.
“Alright, old man, I’m here. The dagger barely touched me, but I figured you needed to make sure I was alive with your own two eyes—oh, shit!” Gage freezes midway in the room at the sight of Katarina on my lap.
“Dagger?” I ask, becoming more aware. “What dagger?”
22
KATARINA
I BLINK, trying to shake the fog from my nap. I’m still in Kalos’s lap, and there’s a surprised man that I don’t know staring at me.
The man’s face creases in confusion. “I thought—you know, that’s not important. Why did you want…” he trails off as his gaze drops to my stomach.
My very obvious stomach.
I may not recognize the man, but his presence feels like Kalos. His coloring is even similar, though his dark hair is wavy and his golden eyes have a warmer tone.
“Is this your son?” I ask, and Kalos flinches.
The man’s lips compress before he smiles. It’s a friendly, bewildered smile edged with a bitterness I can taste.
“No. Just his godson,” the stranger says.
“Katarina, this is Gage. Gage, this is Katarina…” Kalos trails off as if not knowing how to describe our relationship.
I shrug. “The woman miraculously pregnant with his baby without being mated to him.”
Kalos stiffens under me, and I push out of his lap, standing to offer my hand to shake.
Gage’s eyes widen. His eyes not moving from my belly. He doesn’t take my hand.
“I think—I think I’m going to come back later,” he says. There’s something warring behind his eyes.