No matter how well the first day of the family’s visit had gone, it still left me feeling like I wanted to sleep for a week straight.

  So, I was a little annoyed that I was again denied the chance to wake up naturally. Instead, I was roused to wakefulness by a giggle and the faint smell of food.

  “Oooohhhh, they’re so adorable!”

  “Ama, can you please not spy on our daughter while she’s in bed with her husband?” cut in a second, pained voice.

  “Oh, shhh! They’re all covered up. I need to wake them somehow.”

  “Yes, wake them. Not giggle about how cute they are.”

  There was a snort in the background, belonging to neither of the voices.

  “Well it’s not my fault!” protested the first voice. “Look at how she’s wrapped her wings around him under the covers! It’s so precious!”

  “Ama…”

  “Right. Right!” A throat was pointedly cleared. “Wake up, children! If you don’t join us soon, you won’t have any breakfast left!”

  I groaned at the suddenly much higher volume. It was only because I recognized the voice of Alys’ mother that I didn’t let loose some choice words at being woken up again to the presence of someone in our bedroom!

  I made sure the blankets were fully covering both me and my mate before I blearily raised my head. Amara’s eyes were peering at us over the edge of the opening in the floor necessitated by the stairs.

  It hadn’t been an issue before, but I was now definitely questioning Alys’ wisdom in choosing to link what was supposed to be a private space to the rest of the house in that particular manner. The setup left us without a convenient door to shut and lock. A sleepy part of my brain insisted this was going to be an issue with kids added to the mix… then I flushed at how I was already planning our future without even meaning to.

  Besides, any future children would eventually get their own rooms in the newer section of the house. We would have doors we could put between them and us for a little extra privacy, and to keep innocent eyes from accidentally landing on anything they shouldn’t…

  I groaned and buried my face in Alys’ shoulder. All of her mother’s talk about children had definitely put me in an odd mental space.

  The aforementioned mother’s vaguely malicious giggling was also not what I wanted to wake up to.

  —

  It took me a while to coax Alys downstairs. My dragoness was mortified at having been spied on in her bed for the second day in a row.

  Thankfully, I had the scent of food drifting from downstairs to help me. As soon as Alys carefully sniffed the air, her eyes widened. A hopeful look stole over her face, and her tail began swaying with excitement. She instantly abandoned her plan of wrapping us up in sheets to hide and began cooperating with me on getting dressed.

  When we finally made it downstairs, Alys’ eyes immediately locked onto the table. The biggest bowl we owned was sitting there, filled to the brim with some kind of dish.

  “Is that what I think it is?!” she breathed in wonder. Her mother’s happy grin was all the confirmation she needed to bound over to the table while dragging me along for the ride. “Yessss!”

  “Granddaughter. Grandson. Good morning.” Shaessath greeted us from her seat at the table. Unless I was strongly missing my mark, she was sipping on the last remnant of the specially treated torture juice from the original batch.

  “Grandmother,” I rumbled back, sleep still clinging to my voice. “Here.”

  I had managed to make six more bottles of the juice the day before. Reaching into my storage bag, I extracted two bottles, much to the glee of Amara. She snatched them up before her mother could react.

  “You made more! Mother wouldn’t share what was left,” Amara pouted, giving The Molten Expanse a look that reminded me of a kicked puppy.

  “You were trying to cook,” Shaessath replied. “You didn’t need the distraction.”

  Amara huffed. “I successfully made my sweet hatchling’s favorite —”

  Soren cleared his throat pointedly.

  “We made my sweet hatchling’s favorite food successfully,” she corrected herself. Her flush told me that Soren had been the main contributor to the cooking venture’s success.

  Throughout all of this, I was amused to see Alys primly sitting and staring at the food, like a kid waiting for permission to start eating.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Probably because that was exactly what was happening.

  “Ama, our daughter is waiting.” Soren had clearly spotted the same thing. He gently directed Amara into a chair while also liberating the bottles, which she let go of with great reluctance. Then he turned in my direction. “I hope you do not mind us using some of your spices. Ama was rather taken by the idea of adding the wildefire fruit seasoning to the dish.”

  “You did?!” Alys gasped in wonder, looking away only to see her father’s amused nod before snapping onto the food with greater intensity.

  “I set aside some for us, too,” Soren confessed to me in a loud, dramatic whisper, which earned him a slightly tense smile from me. Then, aware that any further delay would be torture for Alys, he nudged his wife.

  “Right! Please, everyone, dig in,” Amara declared grandly.

  I helped myself to some of the main dish from a separate bowl that Soren pushed towards me. It was genuinely delicious. The extremely thin slices of meat had been stir-fried alongside vegetables I didn’t recognize, but which tasted almost too spicy for me. I gathered Shaessath had gone out of her way to acquire the plants, and had likely tasked the family’s kobolds with growing them.

  I would have to ask her about them later, and then politely request samples so I could grow them for Alys locally. If the expression of bliss on my mate’s face was anything to go by, she had missed her home’s cooking.

  I knew they had brought the meat along as well. It was a mix of beef and goat, and we certainly had neither in the pantry.

  The breakfast itself was splendid. It was as the meal was winding down and chatter started up, however, that I quickly found my day growing a bit more complicated.

  “Surely you won’t leave your mother-in-law with nothing to drink in these strange, foreign lands,” Amara cooed.

  Her sad, sparkling eyes were far too dangerous, especially coupled with the fact that the woman had absolutely no hesitation about adopting me fully into the family. She had fussed over me and made sure to refill my plate as much as she had with Alys. I could admit to feeling a warmth that thoroughly washed away any mild resentment over the way we’d been woken up.

  That was probably how she so easily managed to ‘scam’ me out of the other four bottles of torture juice, even if that meant I would have to make more that day.

  A moment later, I spotted Soren’s expression shift in the corner of my eye. I knew he would be addressing me even before he opened his mouth.

  “I hope you do not mind if I make a request of my own?” He didn’t wait for any sort of response. “Would you be willing to set some time aside for me? I would like to get to know the man who married my daughter.”

  That was a perfectly reasonable request, mildly menacing or not. Before I could respond, however, someone else beat me to it.

  “Do not be silly. He will be spending the day with me.” Shaessath’s tone brooked no argument. “We have far too much to do. Perhaps you can do the typical paternal intimidation things later.”

  The knight winced. He didn’t look like he would object or push further, but I found myself feeling a little bad at the way dejection fought to cling to his expression.

  “Well, I’m sure I can set some time aside in the evening. When we are done,” I clarified hastily, because one simply didn’t contradict The Molten Expanse’s plans, no matter how guilty one felt about disappointing one’s father-in-law. Besides, I did enjoy working with the dragoness a surprising amount.

  Soren’s face lit up. “Ah, excellent! I was hoping we could have a spar. I always bring my equipment with me!”

  “A… spar?” I might have choked a little, because that sounded like a horrible idea to me.

  “Knight…” Shaessath groaned in thorough disappointment.

  “I will not push him! I merely want to see how much he can contribute to keeping my daughter safe,” said knight defended himself, even if it earned him a glare from the collective female forces arrayed around the table.

  “I can protect myself just fine,” my dragoness grumbled, though I did note she wasn’t all that upset by her father’s concern.

  I was still feeling uncertain about the idea of sparring, particularly because Alys’ father had declared he ‘always brought his equipment with him.’ If he wanted both of us to use our actual weapons, I would have to decline.

  I didn’t think Alys would be too happy with me if I accidentally killed her father. Using my daggers would considerably increase the chance of that happening.

  Yet he did look all the more dejected to be criticized so quickly after I got his hopes up, and I already knew it wasn’t uncommon for him to face Shaessath’s disapproval. So, I gave in.

  “That would be fine. Sparring, I mean.”

  His expression swung back to eager anticipation so quickly, I wondered if I had been tricked. Soren might have picked up a few skills from his wife when it came to getting what he wanted.

  “With the understanding that Alys could definitely torch anything or anyone who threatened her,” I went on, pausing to exchange a smile with my wife. “Also, I have some concerns about using our actual weapons.”

  “Hmm? And why is that?”

  A twinge of discomfort shot through me at the mild dissatisfaction in his tone. I tried to assure myself that I had not latched onto Alys’ family hard enough that her father’s disapproval was something I already wanted to avoid this badly.

  I repeated that to myself a couple of times, then banished the shades of a different face overlapping with Soren’s.

  “I am a Belladonna,” I reminded him. “We are famous for our poison. My daggers were crafted in a way that allows them to absorb and retain the properties of any poison I subject them to. They fed on plenty during my training.”

  I let the explanation hang between us, watching his expression shift a few times before settling on sheepishness.

  “Ah… yes, that would do it.” He laughed awkwardly, doing his best to ignore another disappointed “Knight…” from Shaessath.

  I felt a sudden need to get away from the whole mess.

  “I will still happily accompany you once I am finished working for the day. Speaking of, I should probably get started. Would you like to join me, Grandmother?”

  I had meant the comment to be cheeky and teasing, yes, but only in the sense of poking at Shaessath, who gave me an indulgent smile. I had not expected it to make Soren glance away from us, his face utterly blank.

  I was looking forward to the spar oh so much. No, truly, I was! Surely I could use a bit more father-son trauma time.

  Shaessath graciously agreed to accompany me while Alys and her mother began making their own plans for the day. Soren awkwardly joined them in their planning, admittedly looking quite content to spend time with his mate and child.

  The instant we were outside, Shaessath’s imperious voice distracted me from my thoughts.

  “You might want to prepare enough containers for our needs now.”

  “Hmmm?”

  “I did promise you materials yesterday,” the dragoness rumbled as her body began to shift and expand.

  I leapt into action, forced to rush before she could copy her granddaughter and waste valuable alchemical ingredients by getting ahead of herself.