Page 41 of His Unicorn Alpha
Mom shook her head. “No…he was only passing through. He just seemed to be in the right place when I was at my lowest point.” Her lips quirked. “A gift from the universe. From fate.”
“And his scent? His species?”
“I…he wore scent blockers,” she answered, frowning. “I remember finding that odd and asking him about it, and he said it helped keep his clients calm if he maintained a neutral scent, so we couldn’t see him as predator or prey. I thought that was a bit funny, because we’re horses — we don’t prey on anything, except maybe the occasional apple tree.”
Whipping my head around to look at Brandt, I blurted, “You’re thinking he was a dragon, aren’t you? But then…” I frowned. “He’d have to have been an alpha.”
“Yes,” he agreed solemnly. “However, as far as we are aware, the last known dragon alpha was—”
“Your father.” I felt supremely uncomfortable at what that might mean.
“Fate wouldn’t do that to you,” Mom’s voice filtered towards us from the phone as we stared at each other in dawning horror. “To either of you. Besides,” she sniffed, “Brandt, you said youran tests on all the samples in your lab. That would have shown a DNA match between you, wouldn’t it?”
Relief washed over Brandt’s handsome face. “Yes,” he breathed the word out and nodded at my phone. “Yes, of course. And it did not.”
“So…” I locked eyes with Brandt again, unsure how to describe the maelstrom of feelings inside me. Shock, trepidation, hope, awe, sadness…they were all there. “That must mean there’s another dragon alpha out there somewhere. Or, at least, there was thirty-seven years ago.”
“And he is old,” Brandt added, his dark eyebrows furrowing together. “Old enough to practice magic long-thought forgotten.”
That…was an intimidating thought indeed.
“Speaking of,” Dad spoke up again, and I didn’t like the uncertain look on his face. Even though I had just told him that I didn’t see him any differently, that he was still my dad, I guessed that he was still unsure that I really meant it. “Your lifespans are drastically different. How will being bonded affect that?”
“We are not sure,” Brandt answered for me. “We are the first alpha-omega pairing of different species. I would like to take samples of Micah’s blood and compare them to my own, and, yes,” he added, directing the next words my way, “it would be helpful to locate someone well versed in the magic and history of the old ways. They might have the answers which we have not been able to find during our research.”
My parents nodded, and the silence that fell between us, sitting on Brandt’s comfy leather couch, and them on the other side of the call was awkward and strained.
Brandt cleared his throat, “Similarly,” he admitted, sounding apologetic, “we’re unsure which species of shifter our children will be. It does not matter to either of us, obviously, but there are many unknown variables in our situation.”
He’s a smart, smart dragon,I mused as Mom brightened at the reminder of her grandchildren. He had known exactly what he was doing by bringing the conversation back around to them.
I squeezed his thigh in gratitude.
He squeezed my knee right back.
Nothing more needed to be said.
“I still can’t believe we’re gettingthreegrandbabies,” Mom cooed. “Tell me, have you started thinking about names? Oh, and what about clothes? Toys? Oh, boys, I hope you’ll allow us to come visit. We’d love to help you in those early days. Babies are hard work, you know.”
And maybe my gratitude was too pre-emptive.
“We should shift,” Brandt told me a few days after the call with my parents. I wasn’t sure if it was a suggestion borne of scientific curiosity, or if he was attempting to distract me from the funk I’d fallen into.
Because, as much as I had told everyone that the bomb my parents had dropped on me didn’t bother me…it kind of did.
I had spent my entire life feeling like an outsider in an otherwise accepting, supportive pack. For years, I had thought there was something wrong with me. They were nice people,goodpeople, and I still hadn’t felt right with them.
Was it because some part of me had always known I was different?
I understood why my parents hadn’t told me. They didn’t want to hurt or confuse me, and I appreciated that. But when I had packed up to leave —when I had explicitly told them it was because I knew I didn’t belong— they should have said something.
No matter what happened with my kids, I vowed that I would always be honest and upfront with them.
And, Gods, I was having kids of my own.
I had no idea what I really was, genetically speaking, and I was having kids with a stranger.
Well, no. He wasn’t really a stranger anymore. Brandt and I had spent days exploring our bond, and getting to know each other properly. From favorite foods and movies to our deepest dreams and wishes, we had been sharing as much information with each other as possible. And, thanks to the bond we shared, he felt like he was a part of me already.
