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I glanced up at Lazarus for confirmation. A single nod let me know Henry was right. Shifting so I could support her within the crook of my arm, she was soon joined by her sister. The little violet’s landing rougher than her sibling.

Happy laughter burst through my lips as I added a second arm to the nest I’d created. “Hello there.” It sounded like a foolish greeting.

As one, both little wyvern head-butted my chest, rubbing up against me like a cat. Running a finger over the closest one’s head, I felt the barest hint of two nubs sprouting from her forehead. When I gave Lazarus a questioning glance, he said, “It’s the beginnings of her horns.”

I swallowed hard. Currently, those little nubs were as precious as they could be. Eventually, they’d be sharp and hard enough to impale her enemies.

The little turquoise wyvern stared up at me, her eyes as deeply sapphire as her uncle’s. Little violet’s were the same. “They have your eyes,” I said.

Scooting closer, Lazarus ran a sharp talon down the back of his niece’s neck. “Vidia and I had similar-colored eyes.”

“It’s a good color. They’re very fortunate.”

Lazarus’s grin was gentle. “I don’t know. I’m partial to shades of auburn.”

My cheeks heated, and I could no longer hold Lazarus’s gaze.

“There’s a damn sight more mushiness goin’ on around this place than there used to be,” Henry huffed. “It’s an improvement over all the doom and gloom but not by much.” Scrambling down my pants leg, Henry called out, “I’m gonna let the others know.”

“Our own personal town crier,” Lazarus bemusedly said.

“It’s a toss-up between Henry and Elvira. I’m not sure where Elvira is, but she’ll probably be miffed when she finds out Henry knew something before her.”

“They do have an interesting dynamic,” Lazarus agreed before standing and heading for the kitchen. “Hatching is a lot of work. It’s time to give these little ladies their first meal.”

I still wasn’t certain how much the hatchlings understood, but given how they flapped their wings and began squawking, I had to think they understood more than seemed logical.

“Shh, Uncle Lazarus is getting the food,” I cooed at them.

I heard the microwave beep, the door opening and shutting before Lazarus reappeared, a plate of steaming chicken cut into small strips in his hand. Both wyvern turned in my lap, their open maws snapping Lazarus’s direction.

Chuckling, Lazarus set the plate on his lap, a strip of chicken in each hand. Holding it out, the wyvern snatched the meat before swallowing it whole.

“They’ve an excellent appetite. That’s a very good sign,” Lazarus said, sounding proud.

The little wyvern demolished over half the plate before they calmed, settling within my lap. Before closing their eyes, both let out a heartfelt belch. Little violet’s belch was filled with white smoke; however, turquoise’s belch released a tiny dusting of frost.

Sitting back, Lazarus’s eye ridges drew upward. “Well, that is a surprise. It seems our little ladies have different affinities.” With a wide smile, Lazarus said, “Thalia will be most pleased.”

Given the light shimmering in Lazarus’s eyes, I didn’t think Thalia was the only pleased one.

Twelve

Lazarus

“Frost and fire affinity. That is indeed rare,” Thalia agreed. “The infants’ father is unknown, but this certainly narrows down the possibilities.”

It wasn’t necessarily unusual for wyvern females to mate with several males. Often, exact parentage was unknown, and offspring were generally raised within their thunder, every member contributing to the young’s growth and development. Vidia’s offspring were no different regarding not knowing for certain who their father was. Chances were good he was from a totally different thunder as females often sought out breeding males far afield, returning to their thunder to incubate and raise the young. My nieces’ father’s identity held little bearing upon my claim on them.

“It will be interesting watching them grow,” I answered. My mind was already contemplating their needs.

“They’ll need time in the coals for the next few days. After that, the one with the frost affinity will likely seek out colder climes,” Thalia advised.

“Understood.”

A small stretch of silence settled between us before Thalia said, “I believe Vidia can rest peacefully now. Her young could not be in better hands.”

I inwardly preened at the compliment while simultaneously feeling heartsick that my sister was not here to see the fruits of her labor. “It is their loss that Vidia is gone. I will do my best, but I fear I can never replace what they have lost.”