I’d simply completed setting the backpack down when my mom bustled into the tiny entrance corridor, her silver-gray hair swishing wildly as she gestured for me to return to her so she may wrap me up in her arms.

“Lena, Lena, Lena,” she mentioned, squeezing tight.

“Hello, Mother,” I whispered again.

“What brings you right here?” she requested, taking me by the shoulders to take a look at my face. “I assumed you had been going again with that huge, robust dragon-man.”

I may see the unstated concern on her face. Neither of my mother and father had been comfy with the idea as they’d instructed me repeatedly on the shock social gathering Damon had organized for me.

“I used to be,” I mentioned. “I did, I imply.”

My mom peered by her glasses on the entrance door behind me as if anticipating Damon to stroll in. Her eyebrows rose in query.

“We should always go in,” I mentioned with a sigh. “There’s quite a bit I have to inform you.”

Their eyes met, listening to the weighty undertones to that sentence, however neither protested. We made our approach into the tiny sitting room behind the home, with the massive window looking into the yard. It was a comfy home, with all of the requirements and not one of the frivolities of contemporary housing.

My mother made us some sizzling chocolate, and I waited on the sofa till she was seated as nicely, all three of us holding steaming mugs.

“Do me a favor?” I requested, taking a look at them each. “Set the mugs down? Out of rapid attain.”

“Is it that dangerous?” my father requested instantly, doing as I instructed.

My mother appeared not sure, however she adopted her husband’s lead.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, wringing my palms. “I hope not. However it’s definitely stunning, I feel.”

They waited, silent, whereas I gathered myself.

“I …” My first try failed as I trailed off into silence, the phrases refusing to return.

I frowned on the flooring. It wasn’t as if something was going to alter by delaying the inevitable. Higher to simply get it over and executed with now earlier than—

“I’m pregnant,” I mentioned, wanting up sharply, forcing the phrases out earlier than I may suppose them over once more. “With Damon’s little one.”

My father sucked in air in shock.

“A dragon child?” my mom requested in a relatively higher-pitched voice.

“Sure.”

She shook her head, blinking quickly behind her thick glasses. “Can that … are you … do you need to sit on it?”

I frowned. “Do I what now, Mother? Why would I sit on it?”

Her fingers had been rubbing backwards and forwards quickly as she hummed and hawed. “Effectively, , when chickens … they—”

My father couldn’t maintain it any longer. He threw again his head and howled, complete stomach laughs shaking him and the sofa.

“My lord, Margaret!” he bellowed by tears, his face vivid pink. “She’s not birthing a goddamn egg!”

He stopped laughing abruptly to frown at me. “Proper?”

I smiled. “No, that’s not the way it works,” I confirmed wryly, watching the aid unfold throughout his face and return to humor as he chuckled to himself, shaking his head at my mother.

“Oh, pricey.” My mother appeared away in embarrassment. Then her head whipped again to me. “So, you’re going to have a human little one?”

The implications of me being pregnant abruptly sank in with each of them.

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