Page 40 of The Dragon King's Pregnant Mate

"You were calling out in your sleep," he says softly. "Begging someone not to take them. Who were you afraid of losing?"

The question hangs in the air between us, sharp as broken glass. Through our bond, I feel his fear, his desperate need to understand what's happening to me. To us.

And suddenly, I can't bear the weight of this secret anymore.

My hands shake as I push myself to sitting. The child's magic pulses stronger, as if they know what I'm about to do. As if they're trying to give me courage.

"Something's changed in you." Arvoren's voice is barely more than a whisper. "I feel it through our bond—a warmth I don't understand. Power unlike anything…" He breaks off, smoke curling from between his teeth. "Please. Just tell me what's happening. Let me help you."

The raw need in his voice makes my chest ache. I look at him—really look at him—in the dance of firelight and shadow. The proud Dragon King who kept me in chains, who watched my every move with possessive intensity…but also the man who carries me through endless snow, who tends my wounds with shaking hands, who looks at me now with such desperate hope.

"I couldn't trust you before," I say finally. "I was so afraid you'd…and I still am. And I still can’t. But…"

"What?" He moves closer, though he's careful not to touch me. Through our bond, I feel his fear warring with restraint. "Afraid I'd what?"

"Lock me away again. Keep me prisoner until…" My hand drifts unconsciously to my stomach. "Until I gave you what you always wanted."

His breath catches. For a moment, there's only the crackle of flames and the endless howl of wind through ancient stone. I feel him piecing it together—the changes in my magic, my weakening body, that pulse of warmth deep inside me.

"Calliope." My name emerges as barely more than a breath. "Are you…"

The words stick in my throat. Instead, I take his hand—his skin burning hot against my frozen fingers—and press it to my stomach. Through our bond, I feel the exact moment he senses it: our child's magic, singing in harmony with mine. The incredible power growing within me, born of dragon's blood and Windwaker ancestry combined.

"How long?" His voice shakes. "How long have you known?"

"Since before Ulric found me." The truth spills out like water from a broken dam. "I had just left…left the city. I was so scared, Arvoren. Scared you'd see our baby as just another piece in your game of politics and power. That you'd chain me again, keep me locked away until…"

"Until our child could be a proper heir?" The bitterness in Arvoren’s voice makes me flinch. "Is that really what you think of me? That I would—"

He breaks off, pulling his hand away as if burned. Smoke pours from his mouth as he stands, pacing the length of our shelter like a caged beast.

"What was I supposed to think?" My own anger rises to meet his. "You kept me in chains! Watched my every move like you expected betrayal at any moment. How could I trust you with something so precious when you never truly trusted me?"

"Because I love you!" The words explode from him like dragon-fire. "Everything I did—every chain, every guard, every moment of watching and waiting—was because I couldn't bear the thought of losing you. And you proved me right, didn't you? You ran. You left."

"I left because I had to!" I struggle to my feet, though the room spins alarmingly. “I need my freedom, Arvoren—I need it more than anything. And once I knew… once I knew, I couldn’t come back. I couldn't let our child be born in a cage, no matter how gilded. Because I needed to know if you could ever see me as something more than a possession to be controlled."

He whirls to face me, and for a moment I glimpse the dragon beneath his skin—scales rippling, eyes burning with inner fire. But then he seems to crumple in on himself, the fury draining away to leave something raw and vulnerable in its wake.

"I failed you," he says quietly. "Failed both of you. Everything I did to keep you close only drove you away. And now…" He gestures helplessly at my weakened state. "Now our child drains your strength while I can do nothing but watch."

The defeat in his voice undoes me. Without thinking, I close the distance between us, taking his face in my hands. His skin burns against my palms, dragon-fire warming my frozen fingers.

"Then do better," I whisper. "Be better. Show me I can trust you with this. With us."

He shudders, pressing his forehead to mine. Through our bond, I feel his turmoil—the possessive instincts warring with his desperate desire to prove himself worthy of my trust. To be the man I need him to be. The father our child deserves.

"I want to," he breathes. "Gods, Calliope, I want to be everything you need. But I don't know how. I don't know how to love without trying to possess. How to protect without controlling. How to—"

I silence him with a kiss, but it isn’t bruising, isn’t forceful. I just know in my gut I have no choice but to do it. He seems to know too. Our lips meet softly at first, a tentative brush like the whisper of wind through autumn leaves. His breath catches, and I feel the tension in his body—the dragon's instinct to claim, to possess. But he holds back, letting me set the pace.

I deepen the kiss, my fingers sliding into his hair. It's like touching living flame, warm and alive beneath my hands. Arvoren makes a sound low in his throat, a sort of contented growl. His arms encircle me, but gently, as if I'm made of spun glass.

Through our new bond, I feel his struggle—the battle between primal need and this new, fragile tenderness. I pour my own longing into the kiss, showing him without words that I want this too. That I've missed his touch, even as I feared it.

The kiss turns heated, passionate. His hands roam tentatively, tracing the curve of my spine with reverent fingers. I arch into his touch, a soft gasp escaping my lips. Arvoren pulls back just enough to meet my gaze, his eyes molten gold in the firelight.

"Is this okay?" he whispers, his voice rough with need.