“I don’t think so either.”
Chapter 13
Emmen
I awoke not to my alarm, but to the sound of the bathroom door slamming closed and the toilet lid flinging open. Then the distressed sounds of my mate losing the contents of his stomach reached my ears.
My first thought as I threw myself out of bed was that my mate was sick. But it was a little early in the season for the flu. And he wasn’t a drinker, so that was off the table. Which in my mind, left one possibility.
We’d been mated for a month now. Could it be true? Could my mate be carrying our first clutch? He’d expressed how much he wanted it a few times. How I’d love to be able to give him all of his dreams.
But I was getting ahead of myself. The flu, drinking too much, and pregnancy weren’t the only possibilities.
Still, I’d been around long enough to know how things worked. Newly mated dragons often found themselves with a clutch soon after mating, the first signs being nausea and also a change in scent. I hadn’t noticed any such change, but had I been looking? No. But also, I hadn’t wanted to get my hopes up and acted accordingly.
I raced down to the kitchen and put the kettle on so that it would be ready once Rhythe came down. Some mates wanted comfort while they were sick… someone to rub their back or hand them a cool washcloth. That wasn’t Rhythe. I’d learned a lot about him while he was recovering.
I grabbed some crackers and a glass of water and went back upstairs with them. I knocked softly on the bathroom door
“Go away,” he moaned.
“I brought you some water and crackers. I can leave them out here if you want.” Mostly I wanted him to know that I was here for him when he wanted me to be.
He groaned loudly. “Here is fine.” At least that was what it sounded like he’d said.
I tried the knob. It wasn’t locked. I opened the door a couple of inches. “May I come in, love? Please?”
“Yes,” he said.
Rhythe had a stack of towels on the floor, resting his head on it while he lay against cool tile. Sweat had beaded on his forehead. I’d always thought there was nothing worse than being sick to my stomach. Now I saw there was; it was having a mate who was sick to their stomach and not being able to do anything to help them in any real way.
“Are you doing any better?” I asked.
He eyed a handful of washcloths by the sink. He’d apparently been midway through getting them ready to use.
I grabbed one of them and ran it under some cool water and rested it against his forehead.
“I hate being sick.”
I hated him being sick even more, but I knew better than to say anything.
“Do you think that you might have eaten something, or perhaps have the flu?” It all sounded wrong, but leading with my hopesand dreams to find out he had eaten some tepid seafood would only make him feel worse.
He smiled and licked his dry lips. He made grabby hands at me, and I handed him the water. He took a few slow sips.
“You know I’m not sick,” he said.
I grinned. “I hoped, but I wasn’t sure.”
“I think it’s safe to say we’re going to have a clutch.”
I couldn’t stop the grin that split across my face. “This is so exciting, Rhythe. Don’t you think?”
He nodded. “Why in the last billion years has no one come up with a cure for this morning sickness, though? Why must I endure this?”
“There are some remedies. We can talk to Vexus about it.” I helped him to his feet. “Do you want a shower or—”
Rhythe shook his head. “It’s Saturday, isn’t it? We don’t have plans.”
