Page 38

Asha

Nobody told Asha that his belly would hurt, or his back—or his feet, for that matter.

The swell of his stomach held what he’d been told were protective fluids that kept the eggs suspended and safe.

Beyond that were the eggs themselves, which he couldn’t feel well unless he lay to one side or the other, which was all he seemed to do since he’d found himself gravid.

Despite nobody giving him a hard time—save for Lyss, guilt welled in his gut, like he should have been doing more. Would he need to prepare? He’d started making a list when speaking with Jeron, but it seemed as fast as he could come up with a worry, there one of Rath’s brothers was to fix it.

He wondered if he’d need more bedding, and by nightfall, Rath had stocked their bed with fine furs.

He’d thought of ways to feed their babies and had been assured the butchers for half the kingdom would spare no speed in having things for the young ones to drink or eat.

They’d need milk or blood—one of which Asha appeared to be able to give, if the tender swell of his pectorals had any say about it.

His nipples had become permanently erect and shamelessly puffy, much to his shame.

“Asha,” Ghreid, of all people, called out as he entered Rath’s room, a sappy smile twisting his lips.

His eyes, gold and fierce, lit with amusement at Asha, finding humor in his posture or predicament.

Clothing hadn’t been his friend for a day or two, but for propriety’s sake, he’d taken to drawstring linen pants and a rather billowing shirt that, no matter how Asha arranged it, caused him no end of discomfort.

“Ghreid.” Asha glared up at him. Despite not being particularly angry at him over any specific thing, he wanted to be. So, being that he was pregnant, irritable, and itchy, he made no attempt at pleasantries.

“I wanted to visit. Is that alright?” Ghreid approached the nest with a slow and steady pace, finding one of Rath’s armchairs to settle into.

He turned it to face Asha’s resting place and smiled.

“I’m heading out after you lay, to handle the ports.

I’ll be back for the hatching come spring—if you like. ”

“Why would I not want you to return?” Asha took a deep breath and adjusted his hips. The dead weight in his pelvis left him sore if he sat still for too long.

“I’m honestly not sure why. I’m anxious about my extended position.

I’ve never been out of the castle for too long—you’re the only one I know that has lived outside of dragonkind.

Have you any kind words for me?” Ghreid tented his fingers and fidgeted anxiously.

For such an elegant and put-together male with an affinity for gold—down to the golden sheen in his hair, he fell apart so easily.

“You’re in a position of power, so there’s no chance you’ll be called out if you are of the flower persuasion.” Asha didn’t know which way Ghreid leaned.

“I’m not quite picky. Males or females. I’ve a penchant for scales, as it were. And hair. I love pretty hair,” Ghreid said, laughing a little to himself in some private joke Asha wasn’t keen to know.

“Avoid turning into a great beast and pillaging holes you’re not supposed to and you’ll get along swimmingly. That is, unless there’s any resistance from the Saurians taking over the ports…” Asha groaned and sat up more fully, drawing his legs beneath himself.

“There’s a fair bit of that. I’m not afraid of humans, though.” Ghreid fidgeted as if he didn’t believe his own words.

Asha sighed, righting himself to stand. “Want to go for a walk? I could use some fresh air. Do me a favor and slap anyone that makes fun of me.”

“Even Lyss?” Ghreid raised a brow, taken out of his moment of self pity.

“You’re welcome to try, but I think she’d slap you back.” Asha stood to full height and stretched, the weight of his belly tugging uncomfortably at his midsection. “And I won’t defend you.”

Ghreid nodded gravely and stood, gesturing for Asha to follow. “Lyss is determined enough that she may stand a chance at beating a dragon. She’s persuasive.”

“She is.” Asha shuffled after Ghreid, making his way to the castle’s gardens with a long stride.

Everything still ached, but it felt good to move—necessary.

Graylan, since their first meeting, had made quite a few visits to the castle to check on Asha’s progress.

Diet, plenty of walks, and fresh air and, surprisingly, sex, had been things he’d heavily recommended.

The union of his body with Rath’s served to keep things pliant down there .

His mind tended to fixate on sex, anyway, so it was no hardship.

As Asha’s mind drifted that way, he bade the start of an erection away, thinking cold thoughts. Being aroused in his brother-in-law’s presence wasn’t on his list of things to do.

Asha did his best to ignore the castle employees as they walked the halls, keeping the garden in mind. Ghreid’s step behind him plodded lightly.

“Hold your head up high. You’re a king’s consort.” Ghreid rested a hand on Asha’s shoulder, giving him a brotherly squeeze.

“It’s embarrassing. My state.” Asha strolled toward the great wooden doors at the garden entrance and waited for Ghreid to open them.

They swung open with a slow creak revealing crisp evening sky, lush greenery, and air so fresh it tasted metallic.

Carried from the distant snowy peaks, it stung his lungs with a fierce and pleasant sensation not unlike fire.

“I don’t really see why. But, I suppose it’s not natural for you.”

“What if you were the one with a belly like this?” Asha gestured at the swell of his abdomen.

“I think it’d be lovely. The ability to carry the life of a new generation. Do you feel them?” Ghreid glanced at Asha’s belly with a somewhat wistful expression, lips twisted.

“Wrong audience, I suppose. Are you even of the persuasion to enjoy the receiving part?” Asha stumbled over his words and gave Ghreid his best apologetic glance.

Ghreid frowned, brow creasing in thought as he walked. “I—I’ve never given it much thought.”

By the time they got to the garden, Asha’s heart thundered heavily in his chest and exhaustion tempted him to take a seat on a bench by a beautiful rosebush trained to grow over a trellis.

Ghreid sat next to him, hands folded in his lap.

He glanced over, trying to give a secretive glance at Asha’s belly again.

Rath hadn’t been super permissive when it came to his brothers around Asha.

They were curious, Ghreid especially so.

“You can ask, you know?” Asha leaned back and gestured toward the swell of his stomach.

“I—” Ghreid hesitated for only a fraction of a second before reaching over, hand spread to rest atop Asha’s stomach.

His nervous expression shifted to wonder.

His pointed teeth rested on the edge of his lip, golden eyes glittering in childish excitement.

“They’re alive. I can feel their life force. ”

“Imagine how I feel. Constantly, their little chatter is piping up. It’s little ripples in the magic, like they’re talking.” Asha patted the side of his stomach as Ghreid concentrated and moved his hand a little bit, adding a gentle pressure until his fingers met the hard shape within.

“What are they saying?”

“Mostly it’s feelings, like hunger or curiosity. They pique when Rath speaks.”

“May I say hello? Will they hear me?” Ghreid lowered his head, eyes ablaze as he tapped into the magic.

“Feel free.” Asha leaned back a little and smirked. Ghreid was always so serious, and the gentle wonder on his face, the submissive curiosity, it was all too much for Asha not to smile at.

“Hello, little ones. Naxima and Bessam.” Ghreid called them by their former names, ones that they would carry on in their new life.

Within Asha’s belly, the eggs weren’t all too well developed, but their magic sparked, something recognizing kin and name. “Oh?” The spark tickled Asha from within.

“I am your uncle Ghreiden. I won’t be around much after you’re born, but I shall fly home come spring to witness your hatch. I wish to hold my hatchling niblings.”

“Won’t they be boys, since Naxima and Bessam were male?”

“Not necessarily. Boys are born about four to one, so most likely boys—but the fates have a sense of humor, no? Didn’t Jeron speak with you about it?” Ghreid lifted his head but kept his hand in place.

“He spoke much, but I’m afraid my mind holds on to facts like cotton floss seeds in a breeze.” Asha laughed until a prick of pain twinged along his back. “Ugh.”

Ghreid drew his hand back as if burned and frowned. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No, they’re just pressing on things. It’s drawing nearer to the moon, so any day now, I’ll have to figure out the out part.” Asha smiled and rubbed the dome of his stomach, easing the pinch of pain.

In the middle of his gesture, a shadow loomed over the two, making Ghreid slide away from Asha with a nervous gesture. “Rath.”

Asha turned his gaze up and smiled, catching Rath’s halfhearted sneer directed at Ghreid. Something delightful tickled at the pit of Asha’s belly at the thought of Rath’s overbearing protectiveness.

“He was touching you.” Rath’s eyes darkened.

“And I said he could. Our little ones were curious about their uncle. Would you deprive them?” Asha gave Rath an equally venomous glare—or at least he hoped it was one. Asha hadn’t quite mastered the skill.

“So, does that mean all my brothers should be permitted to fondle you?” Rath grumbled and stepped forward, pressing into Asha’s side before dropping a hand down to rest protectively over the hillock of his belly.

“Slath already has. I couldn’t keep Pryd away. Envi stared me down pouting until I gave in.” Asha sighed. “Falustus has avoided me like I carried plague. I don’t think he knows that babies aren’t contagious.”

“They’re transmissible, that’s for certain,” Ghreid said, earning a death glare from Rath.

In a sibling spat, they hissed at one another as if by old habit.

“Come, Asha. You really should be in our nest.” He glanced at the sky as if the oncoming moon was a threat. With only three months of gestation before one laid an egg, the oncoming moon was, in a way, a harbinger.

Asha sighed and stood, bidding Ghreid farewell, unable to take a full five steps before Rath scooped him up in a bridal carry. “Rath, I can walk fine.”

“And I can carry you finer.” Rath straightened his back and marched with more pride in his step than Lapryda, who carried the namesake of that particular sin.

“You aren’t to leave the nest until you lay. You know this, my love.” Rath leaned down to rub his chin along Asha’s jaw, savoring the contact with a contented sigh.

“Jeron said it was fine and Graylan said I needed to walk about. Fresh air is good.”

“And giving me a heart attack is not fine.” Rath kicked the door to the castle open and marched him back to their wing and into the nest. “Now, speaking of, where is Jeron?”

“He’s resting and taking his leisure until I birth. He needs to prepare, too, you know.” Asha huffed an amused sigh and earned a fierce kiss.

Rath grumbled, muttering something about Jeron needing to be at his side for every waking moment, cuddled Asha into the nest to surround Asha in his great grip. “Now you can either sleep and be a good little mate in our nest where you’re safe, or I can make you stay.”

“I think the latter is more appealing.” Asha laughed, earning a flurry of movement, hands pawing at his body until his flowing shirt and pants were tossed unceremoniously from their nest.

Rath’s wandering hands caressed his sides, fawned over the swell of his belly, and inevitably ended up at his groin with a firm grip, teasing his soft cock to aching hardness. “If you leave the nest, I can’t bring you off endlessly.”

Asha shuddered at the threat. Pleasure, slow and delicious, built in his groin, nestled safely at the base of his spine where it would grow and rise.

His lips stung, a bare realization he was biting them.

He’d gone from innocent virgin to slavering letch in only months at his mate’s touch.

And soon, there’d be irrefutable proof that Asha was meant to be a child of flowers.

He was meant to love men—for who could deny the love and union of two who created life?

As if reminded of their existence, Asha’s belly shuddered, a muscle spasming deep inside that made him tense and ease under Rath’s touch. He didn’t seem to notice, though.

Rath didn’t try to fuck him, only pleasured, stroking him with tight squeezes and a roaming thumb, massaging leaking fluid expertly into his glans. “You’re lying to me.”

Asha’s heart flipped in his chest, his pleasure faltering. “No. About?”

“Jeron isn’t sent away to rest, is he?” Rath continued stroking. “You’re getting territorial.”

Asha’s thighs trembled, scales rippling as his body urged himself more toward his draconic form. “M-maybe.”

“There is no maybe. There only is .” Rath chuckled and leaned in, nipping at Asha’s ear. “The closer our clutch comes—the closer you are to chasing others off. Imagine how I felt when Ghreiden had his hands all over you.”

Asha struggled in Rath’s grip, his insides clenching while his cock shot hard as steel. “Only you. I worship you. Please. No others.”

“Good boy.” Rath nipped Asha’s ear again and quickened his strokes before growling over his ear. “I’ll protect you. I’ll guard you and keep our clutch safe. You and I alone.”

Asha gasped softly and squirmed. “Make me come.”

Rath snarled and squeezed, grinding against Asha’s ass with gentle threat. Not three months before, that cock had buried itself deep in Asha, planted its seed. It’d touch him no more until their eggs were laid, but the reassurance of his own interest made Asha cry out, his moan a sob of pleasure.

Hot streaks of cum shot through Asha’s cock, coating Rath’s fingers. Something about the scent of his pleasure coating Rath made things right. Territory marked, so to speak.

In the throes of release, Asha closed his eyes, breath heavy—body heavier. Sleep took him, and in the warmth of Rath’s embrace, a soft swear petered out over his lips.

“Fuck. Sleep while you can, my love.”

Asha intended to do just that.