Page 29 of His Unicorn Alpha
He sighed behind me. “She can be a bit…intense…with the hippy stuff. And I know you’re an actual scientist…”
I opened the door, not bothering to greet Eric as I turned to tell my mate, “I am a five-hundred-year-old man who can turn into a dragon, darling. I believe in some degree of magic in addition to science. And it will be nice to see what —if anything— she knows of the old ways. We have lost a lot of knowledge over time.”
Eric cleared his throat, and I finally turned to face him, satisfied to see contrition and apology on his heart shaped face. I knew he had a right to be upset with me, however his reaction had still hurt.
“Can I come in?” he asked.
Nodding, I stepped back and gestured for him to enter.
After I had closed the door and led him into my little open-plan living space, I resumed my seat beside Micah on the two-seat couch and Eric sat tentatively on the matching gray armchair on the other side of the coffee table. I did not have a television, preferring to read or play computer games on my laptop. Micah and I had that in common as well, though we agreed it might be best to buy a television knowing we would soon have three babies and it might be nice to watch a movie while we held them or nursed them.
“Bran,” Eric started, then stopped and sighed. “We both know what you did was wrong. And, yes” —he held up his hand to stall the protest on the tip of my tongue— “I know you apologized, and I know why you did it. But…this is my life’s work. This ismybaby. And it sucked that you disrespected that. It also hurt that you didn’t come and tell me when you found the fertilized eggs.” My heart squeezed and renewed guilt roiled at the betrayal and pain I could read on his face. “Did you really think I’d just make you get rid of them? That I wouldn’t have at least found a way to store them safely?”
I…hadn’t thought about that, actually.
I had just automatically assumed that Eric would want to study them before allowing them to become no longer viable. I had also assumed that Eric would then contact Micah to perform a barrage of tests. I was honestly surprised that he hadn’t demanded the right to perform such tests before Beckett left Micah and I alone, knowing that there was every possibility that we might act on the draw between us. I felt a little guilty for that,too, even though I honestly had never dreamed that Micah’s response to my confession would end on such a positive note.
Shoulders slumping, I shook my head as I let it hang. “I wasn’t thinking,” I admitted. “I suppose, on some level, I did assume that you would use the embryos for research and then discard them when they were no longer viable.”
“I might have liked to keep one for research purposes,” he answered calmly and honestly, but the thought of giving up even one of my babies made my stomach churn with unease. “But,” he continued, as if he could read my mind. He’d known me for nearly three hundred years, so I assumed he knew me better than most. “They were —are— the only hope for our species right now. Idoget that, too. I was just pissed that you didn’t tell me. That you’ve kept me out of the loop for almost three months.” He leaned forward and looked me in the eye, his tone turning soft and compassionate. “I would have liked to have been a part of everything, Bee. Including helping you implant them, if that was what you really wanted.”
My throat constricted as tears threatened to blur my vision. “You would have gone against your own ethics?”
With the corner of his lips quirking upward, he nodded. “I could have done some mental gymnastics. Justified it as necessary research.” He cringed and glanced to my side towards Micah. “Sorry. For what it’s worth, I would have had Beck call you, too. If only to get your verbal consent.”
“I would have given it,” Micah told him without hesitation. “And, no, that’s not the bond talking, sugar.” He leaned into me and nuzzled my face with his own. “Even if I didn’t want to acknowledge the pull back here, just the idea that consenting might help save your species —to save dragons— there wouldn’t have been any reason to say no.”
His words were supposed to be reassuring, but they just added to my guilt. I had been so afraid of all the possibilities whichmight prevent me from having my babies that I had willfully chosen to do the wrong thing.
“Whoa,sugar,” Micah crooned, likely feeling the overwhelming emotion spilling over from the bond between us, “it’s okay. It is. I promise.”
Bile rose up the back of my throat and I groaned, then leapt from the couch and raced down the small hallway to the ensuite bathroom attached to the primary bedroom. I landed on my knees in front of the toilet with bruising force, but couldn’t care too much about it as the contents of my stomach forced their way back out of me.
I heaved and tried not to fight it, knowing that doing so only made it worse.
Tears trickled down my cheeks, namely from the assault against my sinuses as I retched, but also from the guilt which still plagued me.
Micah was a good man —a sweet, kind man— and I had done nothing to deserve his kindness or understanding.
I jumped when his long fingers stroked through my sweaty hair before he rubbed calming circles over my back. He didn’t speak for a while, just lent me his soothing presence as I rode the wave of nausea to the bitter end.
When I finished, he passed me a glass of water and a damp washcloth. I rinsed and spat, then wiped my face with the cloth as he flushed the toilet for me.
“Is it always that bad?” he asked softly as I brushed my teeth.
I spat again, then looked into the sink, unable to face my own reflection. “Yes,” I answered simply, then added, “however, it has been decreasing in frequency.”
“You’re just past the first trimester, so that checks out,” Eric’s voice interrupted from the doorway. “Plus, with multiples, the hormonal fluctuations can be stronger. I wouldn’t be surprised if it doesn’t go away entirely.”
I nodded, already aware of the fact. But this was probably all new to Micah.
“I don’t expect you to deal with all of this,” I told my mate, even while my omega whined at me. For an enormous, scary, flying reptile, my omega felt very much like a desperately needy puppy. “This was my choice and you—”
“We’re not going around in circles on this,” he cut me off, the firmness of his tone doing wonders for my hormones, despite sounding very odd given his usually relaxed demeanor. “I didn’t bond with you just to take a backseat for the baby stuff. I know I wasn’t there when my little swimmers did their thing. And I wasn’t there when you did your thing with them, but you gave me the facts before I signed up for the mating bond and I’m accepting everything that comes with it. Are we clear on that?”
My omega was ready to go belly up for him then and there. With my brother present, that just felt awkward and weird. So, I merely nodded and ignored the renewed slickness developing inside me.
“Crystal clear,” I replied.
