Page 69 of The Dragon's Perfect Omega
I gestured at the corner where it had landed.
"Oh," Lowen said in a tone that told me he needed no further explanation.
"These kids aren't even born yet and my parents are already trying to make them fit into roles pre-determined by society."
Lowen looked as if he wanted to say something, but then he didn't.
"What?" I demanded. Maybe I couldn't read him the way he read me, but I could still tell when there was something on his mind.
"I know you're upset with your parents and I'm not a fan of them either, but have you considered that just this once, they were... trying to be nice by sending this?"
"Are you seriously going to take their side?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"I'm not taking anyone's side," Lowen claimed. "I only think you're reading a little much into onesies because you're angry—which I totally get. I'll burn these baby clothes for you if you want me to. I'll throw them right into the volcano."
I exhaled, running a hand through my hair. "You don't have to do that." Even to me, that seemed a bit over the tip. Licking my lips, I looked at the box again. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive them for what they did," I admitted. "And yet at the same time, I miss them. Is that weird?" I missed coming home to the smell of my mom's cooking. Hell, I even missed discussing politics with my father over the evening news.
"It's not weird." Lowen pulled me into a hug. I let out a sigh, shoulders slumping as I felt some of the tension fall off me. "You spent a lot time looking up to these people and they're your family. You love them."
I shook my head. "I love you."
"I know," Lowen said softly. "But that's a different kind of love, and it's not like they rival each other."
"Then why do my parents make it feel like I can either love them or you? They were obviously trying to keep me from loving anyone else ever."
"I don't think that's what they were trying to do." My dragon tangled one of his fingers in my hair. "I don't think they understand what they were doing. They thought they could change who you fall in love with." He gave a low chuckle. "They had no idea you were fated to a dragon, and a male one at that."
"I'm still not sure I believe in fate," I said.
"And yet you're here with me."
"Because I believe inyou." I gave him a small smile. "You were so patient with me when I had all these... hang-ups. Never judged me the way my parents judge you."
Lowen leaned in to kiss me. "I'm judging you now," he said when we parted again. "I'm judging you to be absolutely perfect for me."
I had to laugh at that. "Oh, you're awful."
"But I made you laugh. Now what do you say we forget all about that box and go visit Adrian? I'm sure everyone else is already there."
"Yeah, let's go."
It was a better idea than worrying about my parents anyway.
* * *
Lowen was right; when we got to Adrian's place, everyone was already gathered in the dining room. I was momentarily overwhelmed by how many people there were. Adrian seemed to have a lot of friends. Not that it surprised me, I'd only met him once and I already liked him.
Glancing around the room, I recognized Zed and his mate Roger, and then there was Finn, also with his mate, whom I'd recently been introduced to. I spotted another one of Lowen's friends, a dragon by the name of Kylan, seated at a table with a bunch of kids, playing with Legos.
"You want to sit down?" Lowen asked me.
"Yeah." I was a bit tired, actually. It wasn't like we had to walk here or anything, I'd only had to sit on my dragon's back, but even that had felt sort of exhausting. I wasn't leaving the house much these days.
The moment the host saw us, he fussed over me too. "Sit!" he said, leading me to an empty chair at the dining table. Food hadn't been served yet, but the table had been...somewhat set. The plates were lined up nicely, but the cutlery had been dropped on top of them in what seemed like a random fashion. I had two spoons on my plate and no knife or fork. Lowen's plate had one spoon and one fork.
"Don't worry about that," Adrian said when he noticed where I was looking. "I told my boys to set the table. They decided to get creative about it.I'vedecided to lock their fire trucks away for a week." He said the last sentence in a raised voice, his eyes darting to the table with the kids. When I followed his gaze, I saw two identical looking boys ducking away from him with suppressed giggles.
"Sorry, Daddy!" they said in unison before focusing their attention back on the tower they were building.
