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Rorik

One night, a week or so before I was due, I woke with a start.

I need to den.

The thought was a sudden thunder crack in my mind: loud and impossible to ignore.

I peered at Saffron, who was soundly asleep beside me. I didn’t want to bother him. As I neared my due date, all his attention was constantly focused on my needs. He must’ve been exhausted. I wanted him to rest.

As quietly as my huge body could move, I slipped out from the covers and sneaked into the hall. I was halfway to the stairs when I realized someone was following me. The hairs pricked on the back of my neck. The deeper I went into my pregnancy, the fiercer my parental bear instincts grew. I was on high alert.

But when I turned around, it was just Mylo. He yawned and rubbed his eyes.

“What’s up, Rorik?” he asked sleepily.

“Sorry. Did I wake you?”

He flashed a sheepish grin. “Oh, I wasn’t sleeping. I wanted to grind some EXP, so I was playing my handheld console on the couch.”

I didn’t understand half of his sentence, but I nodded anyway. Mylo’s presence calmed me, chasing away the random paranoia that somehow the tundra clan alphas had wormed their way into the castle.

“Heading to the kitchen for a midnight snack? I’ll join you,” Mylo offered.

I smirked. “For once, no.” My smile fell as I struggled to find the right words. “I have this… feeling.”

Mylo perked up. “You’re nearly due, right? You want to den.”

“How’d you know?” I asked, shocked he’d hit the nail on the head.

He chuckled, scratching the back of his mussed-up hair. “When I was close, I nested like crazy. Couldn’t get me out of ferret form—or my nest. I had to make it cozy for when my babies came.”

My chest felt lighter. I was relieved we shared this experience across species boundaries. “That’s exactly how I feel right now.”

“Then let’s go build you a den,” Mylo said. “Oh, but you’d normally build one in the snow, right?”

I nodded. There wasn’t a speck of snow on this tropical island. Although my bear itched to rub against packed snow and crisp ice, it simply wasn’t happening.

“Hm… cold but cozy.” Mylo snapped his fingers. “I’ve got an idea.”

I followed Mylo deeper into the castle. I’d grown to think of it as home, but there were still many unexplored rooms I’d never been inside, especially in sparsely used wings. Mylo opened the door to one now. We were greeted by a short wooden staircase that led down to a small, unassuming box of a room. The air was naturally chilly—it must’ve been partway underground.

“This is one of the unused cellars,” Mylo explained. “It must’ve been for food or drinks in the past, but now the dragons use fridges instead, so this place is empty.”

I took a breath. I liked the cool air, and despite its disuse, it didn’t smell musty or unpleasant. The only thing missing was the cozy factor. I glanced down at the concrete floor.

“I can’t exactly dig a den here,” I pointed out.

Mylo nodded, like he’d already thought of that. “That’s what blanket forts are for!”

I blinked. The word ‘fort’ conjured a severe mental image—the total opposite of cozy.

“A blanket… fort?” I echoed.

“I’ll show you! Wait a sec, let me grab some.”

Mylo scampered off with a bounce in his step. I smiled as he left, warmed by my fellow omega’s excitement. I was glad to get along with him—and the rest of the dragons’ mates, too. Despite my past transgressions, they welcomed me like family. They were everything the tundra clan was not.

But as I stood alone in the cellar, my mind drifted back to the arctic. What were Charon and Sorrel and everybody else doing? Were they okay without me? Did they miss me the way we’d missed Poppy after he disappeared?

The hairs on the back of my neck bristled, but this time, it didn’t feel like Mylo. The presence was looming and intense.

I whipped around.

Viol was illuminated by the cellar’s single dim bulb casting his face in a stark light. We hadn’t spoken much since I moved in. He mostly avoided me. I couldn’t tell if he was frightened of me or not. But if he was, why had he followed me?

Trying to sound friendly, I asked, “Can I help you?”

He met my gaze only for a second, then averted his eyes with a grunt. “This won’t do.”

“What won’t?”

Viol didn’t respond. He lurked at the top of the stairs, glaring at the cellar walls disapprovingly. That made me feel strangely defensive about my little subterranean room.

“Listen,” I began, “I know you don’t like me, but—”

Viol’s wide-eyed gaze snapped to mine. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

That caught me off guard more than a walrus fin smacking me across the face. I didn’t know how to reply.

“You think I dislike you?” Viol sputtered.

I felt as flustered as he sounded. “Yes? You avoid me. You never talk to me. You never seem happy to see me.”

Viol scoffed, running a hand through his deep purple hair. He took a beat to collect his thoughts. “Did you feel happy to see Saffron after you mauled Aurum?”

A shiver colder than the room ran down my spine.

“No,” I said quietly. “I felt guilty. I wanted to disappear.”

He smirked humorlessly. “Then you know how I feel when I see you .”

My head swirled. I finally understood. I was a constant reminder of Viol’s past sins.

The clan. The fire. The shadow of his dark wings across the white landscape.

A thought came to me. That day’s etched in his memory too, but from a very different angle.

I realized suddenly that Viol was the only dragon brother that didn’t confront me after I attacked Aurum. Did he understand why I did it—and how much I regretted it? Maybe he figured I felt shitty enough, and had no desire to pile on.

We stood in uncomfortable silence as I processed this.

Finally, I sighed. “I’m bad at words. But I already said I don’t hate you. I don’t want to be a ghost haunting you. I just want to be Rorik.”

That struck a nerve. Viol’s gaze flitted up, met mine. Tension evaporated from his posture. The tight edges of his face softened.

I kept talking. “No matter what happened in the past, I’m part of this family now. So, please don’t avoid me. I want my kids to know their Uncle Viol.”

His eyes flashed in surprise, gleaming with moisture. He quickly blinked it away and stared down at his black leather boots.

“You mean that?” he asked in a quiet rasp.

“I wouldn’t say it unless I did.” I smiled. “How about we start over?”

Viol didn’t smile back—instead he held back a grimace, like he didn’t deserve my offer—but he chuckled and nodded stiffly. “Yeah. Sure. Let’s start with this shitty fucking cellar. Wait here.”

Viol trudged off just as Mylo returned. The omega readjusted his glasses and asked, “Was that Viol?”

“Yeah.”

Mylo grinned warmly. “He’s so funny, isn’t he?”

Funny was not the term I’d use to describe the mysterious alpha, but I understood where Mylo was coming from.

“He’s interesting,” I conceded. “What’s that you’re carrying?”

“Blankets and pillows! Lots of ‘em—whoa!”

Since they were stacked so high he couldn’t see, Mylo lost his footing. I leapt and caught him before he tripped down the stairs.

“Oof, thanks,” he said as I led him to solid ground. “Here. We can build a fort with these.”

My brow furrowed at the pillows and blankets. If Mylo had fallen, I would’ve assumed he had a concussion.

“You can’t build a fort with these,” I said. “You need bricks, or packed snow, or wood.”

Mylo laughed. “You’re funny, too, Rorik. This is a blanket fort, obviously! It’s cozier than a real battle fort. Or whatever you do with forts. I’ve only built them in video games. Actually, there’s this popular game about building forts, but most people play on the non-build mode, which kinda defeats the purpose of—oh geez, sorry, I’m rambling. Let’s stack the pillows.”

Mylo dropped to his knees and stacked the pillows. I followed his lead and did the same. It didn’t take long to understand the appeal. They were soft, squishy, and fun to handle. I quickly acknowledged Mylo’s vision. Soon there was a basic structure on which to hang the blankets.

“You’re tall, so you throw it on top,” Mylo suggested, handing me the longest blanket.

I tossed it across the two separate pillow stacks, bridging the gap between them. I couldn’t help but smile at my handiwork.

“This is fun,” I said, a bit shyly.

Mylo beamed. “Isn’t it?” He picked up another blanket, then paused, biting his lip like he wanted to say something. “You know, I’m really glad you’re Saffron’s fated mate.”

I nearly dropped a pillow. “Huh?”

“I was there when Saffron dated his human ex-boyfriend. Actually, I was part of the reason they broke up…” Mylo rubbed the back of his head. “Saffron saw how much Aurum and I were in love, and realized he didn’t have that feeling with Billy.”

I didn’t know the man, but hearing his name still made my skin crawl. Saffron never mentioned him beyond the single conversation we shared. I figured he was embarrassed, or the wound felt too fresh, or both. Or maybe he didn’t feel the need to dredge up the past when the present was so much better.

“Do you like me more than that guy?” I asked, wondering if I was any better.

Mylo shot me a startled glance. “Of course I do! I like you a lot, Rorik. You’re my friend.” When he smiled, his chubby cheeks pushed up his glasses. “Actually, we’re sort of like brothers now, huh?”

His statement floored me. Out of all the omegas, Mylo had the most right to despise me for hurting his mate. Yet like everyone else here, his heart was warm and forgiving. It was difficult to ignore the feeling that I didn’t deserve his kindness. But if Mylo accepted me enough to call me his brother, I owed it to him to step up, get over my bullshit, and move forward. Enough guilt trips. No more wallowing in my own shame.

“Yeah,” I agreed, thoroughly humbled as I smiled back. “Thanks, Mylo.”

A familiar yawn came from the doorway. “Rorik? What’re you doin’ here?”

Saffron’s sleepy voice filled me with comfort. I grinned at my mate.

“Mylo and I are building a blanket fort,” I explained. “Want to help?”

Saffron didn’t even ask why. He just grinned and leapt down the stairs, ready to assist. “I’m in!”

Mylo didn’t have to explain the rules. As we settled into the rhythm of building, Saffron pouted in my direction. “Why didn’t you wake me up when you left? You know I would’ve come along.”

“You were tired,” I said, draping another blanket on top of the pillow pillars. “You’re taking good care of me, but I want you to take care of yourself, too.”

Saffron rolled his eyes. “I’m your alpha. It’s my job to take care of you.”

“It’s true,” Mylo agreed with a firm nod. “Just accept it, Rorik.”

I sighed. These alpha dragons wouldn’t let up in their affections, would they? “Fine. Now hand me that duvet.”

After spreading the duvet on the last bald spot of the canopy, I stepped back to gauge the fort. The outside looked incredible—sturdy, enclosed, and inviting. But the inside lacked that cozy charm. I didn’t feel the urge to crawl into it and make my den. Not yet.

Mylo tapped his finger to his lips. “Needs something else. Maybe more blankets bundled up in a nest?” He and Saffron made a quick makeshift pile. “How’s that? Try it out.”

I slipped into my polar bear form and ducked my head beneath the entrance. The inside was spacious enough for a polar bear, but not so big that it felt vacant. I lay on top of the floor blankets and rearranged them listlessly.

“Better,” I agreed. “But it’s missing something. I can’t put my paw on it…”

“Try this.”

At the mouth of the den, Viol’s stern face suddenly popped up between Mylo and Saffron. He thrusted something at me. It was a stuffed blue toy in the shape of a dragon.

Saffron let out an accusatory gasp. “Viol! Is that Blueberry 1.0?”

“Yeah. So what?” Viol demanded.

“I thought you returned him to Muzo!”

“I did. And then I un-returned him,” Viol stated.

Mylo leaned over to me and whispered, “Viol is a serial plushie thief. But it’s a family secret, so don’t let it slip.”

Viol scowled. He looked especially embarrassed to be called a thief in front of me, but he didn’t dare snap at Mylo, who he was clearly fond of.

“Muzo didn’t appreciate the first Blueberry,” Viol growled defensively. “After he got 2.0, I found the original lying under the bed, forgotten.”

I caught the undercurrent of fierce benevolence in his voice, like he had genuine sympathy for the toy. Or the plushie was a stand-in for something else.

Saffron squinted suspiciously at him. “Um, why are you in Cobalt and Muzo’s room often enough to know that?”

“Because shut up,” Viol said. He pushed the plushie at me. “Take him. He’ll make you feel better.”

Viol’s confidence in the toy kindled my curiosity. If a plushie brought comfort to someone as tormented as Viol, maybe there was merit in his claim. I curled my paw gently around the toy and nestled it by my head in the pile. It was skillfully crafted, and obviously custom-made. There was only one omega I knew who could create this sewing masterpiece.

“Did Taylor make this, too?” I asked.

Saffron nodded. “He made all the plushies. Saffron Jr, too.” He glared at Viol. “And I haven’t forgotten the time you nearly stole him , by the way.”

“I didn’t do that,” Viol muttered.

“You literally did. Both Mylo and I saw it.” He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, Muzo will understand if you borrow him, Rorik.”

I nodded, making a mental note to thank the jackal later.

“Thank you, Viol,” I said.

He looked surprised at my gratitude. He gave a jerky nod, then slipped out of the room.

Saffron sighed when his brother was gone. “He’s so fucking weird.”

Mylo and I spoke at the same time: “No, he’s not.”

My own outburst surprised me. When did I get so defensive over Viol?

Saffron gaped, then broke into laughter. “You guys sound like me and Aurum!”

I exchanged a grin with my fellow omega. It pleased me to share a moment like that with Mylo—and hopefully, many more.

Then came a sudden pulse in my abdomen.

My fur went rigid, then flattened as a shudder rolled down my body.

“Rorik?” Saffron asked, concerned.

Mylo understood what was happening to me before I did. “The egg’s coming.”

The egg. That was right. I’d been briefed that all the omegas—even mammal shifters—laid eggs thanks to the dragons’ strong genes. It didn’t feel real until now, when I experienced the first contraction and the tight sensation of the egg moving to its exit.

I suddenly felt out of my depth. Back in the tundra clan, childbirth—or egg laying, for that matter—was never explained to us because it was something omegas ‘naturally’ understood. The alphas called it our purpose. Now that ignorance came back to bite me in the ass. Or in this case, emerge from my ass.

“What do you need? Water? More blankets?” Saffron offered.

His voice pulled me back to the present. It reminded me I was here, on Chromatimaeus Island, with my fated mate. Not in the tundra clan. I was safe and cared for.

“I want you to stay right there,” I murmured, my bear’s voice slipping out in a low growl. I pressed my belly to the blanketed floor and rested my forehead against the plushie. Blueberry 1.0, they’d called him. It was unexpectedly comforting.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Saffron promised. His eyes glinted with devotion—a dragon’s raw, instinctive devotion to his mate.

“Come closer.”

He crawled into the fort on all fours and spooned me from behind. The size difference of his human form compared to my polar bear’s size was immense, but so was the peace his embrace gave me. The next contraction wasn’t as scary, and the one after was nagging but manageable.

Saffron stroked my flank fur in a calming rhythm. “Let us know if you need anything, okay?”

I recalled his comment from a few minutes ago, and remembered the kindness of someone who wasn’t present.

“I want Aurum here, too,” I said.

Mylo perked up. “I’ll get him!”

But as Mylo reached the peak of the steps, Aurum appeared in the doorway. His bedhead poked out in every direction, and he looked flustered, like he’d run here in a hurry.

“Oh, hey,” he greeted Mylo, then glanced down at the fort. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Rorik’s laying his egg. He wanted you here, so I was coming to fetch you,” Mylo explained.

Aurum’s gaze flickered with emotion. He wasted no time leaping down the steps, helping Mylo back down, then kneeling by the fort’s entrance.

“How did you get here so fast?” Saffron asked his twin.

Aurum shrugged. “Viol randomly shook me awake and told me to haul ass down to the cellar. Freaked me the hell out. I thought he’d finally lost it.”

“How’d he know Rorik was laying?” Saffron asked.

Mylo tilted his head. “Maybe he didn’t leave. He could’ve been standing outside the door, listening to make sure everything was okay,” he suggested. “He’s thoughtful that way.”

Aurum’s brow arched, and I’m sure Saffron mirrored the gesture behind me, but neither said anything.

A throb of agony hit my gut. I shut my eyes and growled when the pain didn’t subside. The egg didn’t seem big when it was snugly in my womb, but on the way out it was a different story.

“Just keep breathing,” Mylo encouraged. “That helped me get through the worst of it.”

Aurum nodded. “You can do it, big guy.”

“You’re doing great, Rorik,” Saffron said.

Their words gave me the strength to keep going. I focused on his palm pleasantly stroking my fur. The opposing sensation was a decent distraction from the pain. But I knew I couldn’t ignore the contractions, either. I had to push or this egg would never come out.

And the faster I laid it, the sooner I’d see my baby.

That lit a fire inside me. Pain be damned, I channeled my thoughts and energy into laying my egg. Besides, if every other omega had been through this, then I as a warrior should’ve had no problem.

...was what I thought until the next contraction hit me.

I snarled, digging my claws into the blankets. I would’ve felt bad for shredding them if I wasn’t tangled in the snares of pain.

“Oh, Rorik,” Saffron murmured, rubbing my sides. “I know it sucks. I wish I could take the pain away from you. It’ll all be worth it, in the end.”

He was right, of course, but he wasn’t the one pushing an egg out of his ass.

But as the uncomfortable tightness swelled, it was followed by a sudden wave of relief. I gasped, allowing myself a few seconds to enjoy the lack of agony, then realized the inside of the fort was no longer dark.

A curious glow appeared behind me. Panting with effort, I craned my neck to see Saffron staring wide-eyed at a radiant object. I didn’t know what it was, or where it had come from until he lifted it up for me to see, and I realized what it was.

My egg.

Our egg.

I stared in total awe. The smooth curve of the shell was brilliant yellow. Fragments of darker gold shimmered like sunset light bouncing off a glacier. I’d never seen anything like it. It was beautiful.

“Our baby’s in here,” Saffron whispered as he cradled the egg. His expression was already gentle and nurturing, and the egg hadn’t even hatched yet. I knew he’d provide the care it needed until the time came to emerge into the world.

I felt a rush of pride watching my mate lovingly stroke the egg’s shell. Saffron was going to be an amazing alpha father.

No—he already was.