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I’m sorry I wasn’t there. He stuffed a little tidbit of bread into Melissa’s mouth, and she snapped it down like a baby dinosaur rather than a bird. She did love her honey, just like her dads.

“Anyway, I’m sure it’s probably a good idea to alternate,” Brayden said. “That way they all have somebody to grow up with.”

Sloan nodded at him, just grinning, his eyes dancing. “I love that idea. I wish we’d had more of that when we were growing up — more dragons, people who understood us. Not that I didn’t love it being the three of us against the world.”

“So did I, bro. Seriously.”

“I know.” Sloan sobered, suddenly his expression serious. “But this is amazing. This place where we are now, this place where we found our mates, where I know Riley is going to find his. I’m not sorry that we decided to stay here. In fact, I celebrate it every day.”

“Oh, mate.” Tyr reached over and grabbed Sloan’s hand, bringing it up to kiss the back of his knuckles.

That made him grab Harden’s hand because he needed something to hold on to. “I understand that now.”

Tyr winked at him, so playful. “It took you long enough.”

Brayden narrowed his eyes, and Tyr laughed uproariously.

“You remember, we are using our words.”

Chapter

Nine

Harden had a rhythm going.

He wasn’t one hundred percent sure that he was pregnant, but he did know that mornings were his least favorite thing ever, and he was just going to have to get them over with, so he got up early and fed.

Brayden had decided early on in this — pregnancy, disease, hell, whatever it was — that he would go down to the village in the mornings and gather food and trade for the things that they would need for the day.

That let Harden be out of the house in the sunshine and feeding the bwostfal. Everyone was doing well. The larparcas were mingling with the dafydd and keeping them safe from any predators, dragon or otherwise.

The placid little things could be evil when threatened or surprised.

As soon as he was done, he stretched out in the long chair that sat in the sun and dozed.

Luckily for him, Harden was much less busy in the summer than, say, Tyr. The bwostfal were happy and warm, the grasses were growing, and mating would happen in the fall, but nothing needed to fight for territory.

Basically, Harden did his chores in the morning, tried very hard not to vomit, and then rested in the sun, waiting for his mate to show up with goodies.

It was actually very pleasant.

“Do you often let someone walk up on you, bwostfal-meist?”

Harden slowly opened his eyes, refusing to jerk or respond in any sort of quick way. He did not know the inky dragon who seemed to be cloaked in shadows, but he did know other dragons had heard of him.

Mate, the one you spoke of, the black dragon is here talking to me, so hurry. He barely whispered the thought, knowing Brayden could alert all the others.

“What do you want? Do you have need of an animal? I don’t have any new ones trained yet and none for trade.”

The black dragon chuckled, the sound not unkind. “No, I came to warn you. Someone comes with an offer to buy the white ysidri, the one with wings. That would break the world itself. You must not send her away.”

“Away from her mother? Why would I?”

The black dragon shook his head. “That information has not been offered to me.”

Well, that was great, absolutely wonderful.

“Whoever gives you information, you can tell them that if someone comes onto my land and touches a single one of my bwostfal, there will be hell to pay.”