“News?” Her mother’s tone went suspicious. “Good or bad?”
“Depends, really. So, I started dating this guy…” She decided not to explain about Emory, the Date Monsters thing, or that Kieran bounced around the place, looking for a relationship to stick. “A dragon shifter. I told you about the shifters I sometimes dated, right?”
“Yes, you have. Don’t blame you. If I didn’t love your father…” Tegan heard a faint “Hey!” in the background from her father, and grinned.
“Thanks, Mom. Anyway, we’ve not been dating that long, but… we made a mistake. And… I’m pregnant.”
Black hole silence. Tegan couldn’t even hear her mother breathing anymore. Then she heard a sharp intake of breath. “You’re pregnant?”
“Yes.” She wanted to leave the details, about not wanting to keep it, and that she planned to let Kieran take it, for the face-to-face conversation. Though now that she was hearing her mother getting wound up and giddy on the other side of the call, it made Tegan feel that much more guilty that she didn’t want to let her mother enjoy grandparenthood yet.
Shit, there’s so much to consider.
“That’s amazing news! Though it is a bit fast… are you okay with it? I haven’t even seen this man yet. Oh, you have to introduce him to me. I hope he’s handsome and kind, just like your father was before the beer belly got him…”
Tegan stemmed the flood of her mother’s excitement as much as she could, promising to see her the next day, and ended the call, feeling even more messed up than before.
She went straight back to mixing, creating acidic purple cocktails, lime green with red snake lines, tongue smearing light blue, even a black liquorice one. They didn’t help quell the worries, but they did take her mind off them for a little while. All while she attempted to figure out just what exactly the best move might be. Didn’t feel like there was a correct move to make. Wherever she stepped, someone would have less because of it.
Chapter Eight – Kieran
There was something invigorating about seeing Tegan’s stomach, reminding him of the child that grew within. Thinking of the wonderful future he could give it, and of the faint possibility that maybe Tegan wanted to be more involved. When he turned up with the land, the non-verbal promise to help her with her dreams, it seemed to take a burden off her shoulders.
She in turn, offered him a different perspective on an issue. To the point where he was now flying above the country, on a fourteen-hour flight to his homeland, high up in mountains, away from the glimmers of human civilization. Macey and Locke were keeping a careful watch on Tegan, and Macey was training her how to shoot straight and more or less hit the chest area when aiming—though he knew it to be risky, leaving her without his protection.
The risk would pay off, however, if his family listened to the offer. His father and mother didn’t have phones, they didn’t use that sort of technology at all. He’d tried contacting his brother with the number he used, but it was not in service.
Best to go straight to the source, then. He flew with determination, wings growing heavy from the constant bob through the air. With longer flights, it helped to lift high into the airstreams and lock his wings, but his body wasn’t light like a bird’s and needed to use sheer force to keep it in motion in the air, like he was grabbing air with his wings. But on strong enough breezes, he could lock them and drift to conserve energy. He found a strong northern wind and let it carry him for some time.
He might not agree to this at all. It could be a big waste of time, and I’ll be leaving her in danger. All he knew was that he’d have slightly more chance reasoning with his father than with his brother, and that said a lot, given how stubborn both were.
By the time the mountains rolled up, and he spiraled down in a final descent, his body veered on the verge of exhaustion, not used to straining itself for so long. Well, he didn’t transform that often, so everything was out of practice. He swooped down, perched, and sidled into the sparse mountains until he found a natural cave, one that sank in about four meters. He lay there and rested for the night and hunted for food in the morning, letting himself get used to the dragon body once more, since his father much preferred to remain in dragon form for all purposes.
His wings brushed through pileups of snow, and he padded up the familiar path that led to the collection of mountain caves and tunnels the dragons networked with. Not quite as comfortable as human dwellings with all their creature comforts.
As he approached, a blue-green dragon, a little smaller than he was, trotted up. The long-lost child returns, I see. You are here to see your father?
Yes. I would speak with him.
The dragon who Kieran vaguely remembered as one of his father’s vassals (even the low-born dragons had them) led him towards one of the biggest caves in the area, while more of the dragons peeked out, curious about the newcomer, recognizing him, and just watching their little procession as he made it to the family cave. He did have good memories, here. They did raise him with the intent of making him the best, but they were confining, desperate, restrictive, too. He thought about contributing another child, letting them be a dragon in this place, growing up with other dragon babies, flying through the air, being free of the trappings of the human world.
Not the worst fate. Only terrible if you were curious about the human world, if you wanted to see it for yourself and understand the people that inhabited it. Only terrible then.
Inside the drab, gray-brown cave, faintly illuminated by braziers which they lit with their own breaths, packed with natural ingredients found littered on the forest floors, he saw his father reclined by his mother. His father’s scales were a creamy white that glinted in the torchlight, and his mother’s were a deep gray with black spikes littering her back. Both of them turned eerie green eyes towards him.
Ahh… his father whispered. You have returned.
Not for the reason you would like, Father, Kieran replied, aware of the tension, of the faint hostility that emanated from his father, just for even hinting at disobeying again.
No? Is Broxar not persuasive enough? I would have thought you’d come to your senses and do what needs to be done to ensure that we continue. His father remained upon the floor, but his nostrils flared and smoke curled ominously from the corners of his mouth.
I have made it exceedingly clear that this is not the future I want. You forcing me into this position is wrong.
You abandoning our family and leaving our legacy in dust is wrong! his father roared, and this time, sparks of fire drooled from his mouth. You understand you are the last hope we have?
Not if you accept my brother’s union, I’m not, Kieran replied. His mother gave out a snorting laugh, but said nothing, preferring to let his father do all the talking.
I think we’ve made it “exceedingly clear” that we do not, his father replied, rather snide. If you’re not here to do the right thing, then why are you here at all?
To offer a… compromise. Something that might suit the both of us. So I can go on with my life and the way I want it, and you don’t need to feel like it’s the end of the world.
The smoke dissipated from his father’s mouth. I will take no compromise!
Actually… Now his mother interrupted, tail swishing. I want to hear what you have to say.