Chapter 175: Hatching Hope, Harboring Hesitation

Cyrus’s pen stilled against the document he’d been reviewing.

"What exactly are you attempting to do?"

Kane shrugged, trying for casual as he adjusted the egg on the coffee table.

"Just thought it might feel cramped in there. You know, confined spaces and all."

Cyrus’s crimson eyes narrowed, seeing straight through the flimsy excuse.

"Kane."

The single word carried enough weight to make Kane’s shoulders drop.

"Are you trying to hatch it in my office?"

Kane met Cyrus’s gaze, chin lifting with stubborn determination.

"Maybe."

"Kane—"

"I want to try," Kane interrupted, his hands already moving to the case’s latches.

"My foxfire’s different now. Stronger. Nine tails’ worth of spiritual energy has to count for something, right?"

Cyrus set down his pen entirely, giving Kane his full attention.

"You have no experience with dragon eggs."

"Neither does anyone else alive," Kane countered. "Besides you, and you want to destroy it."

Silver flames flickered around Kane’s fingertips, dancing with newfound intensity. The power felt different since his transformation—warmer, more nurturing than destructive.

"Just let me try," Kane said softly. "What’s the worst that could happen?"

Cyrus’s expression suggested he could think of several catastrophic possibilities.

"I’ll be careful," Kane promised, silver flames dimming to a gentle glow. "I won’t blow anything up."

Cyrus rose from his desk, crossing the distance between them in measured steps.

"Kane, are you truly set on hatching this egg?" His voice carried a gravity that made Kane pause. "Do you understand the responsibility that comes with it?"

Kane’s ears flattened slightly, but he held his ground.

"I know what I’m doing."

"This isn’t a pet or an experiment." Cyrus’s crimson eyes searched Kane’s golden ones. "If this egg hatches, we’re talking about raising a dragon. A child, essentially."

Kane’s tails bristled, silver fur standing on end.

"You don’t think I can be responsible."

"That’s not—"

"No, that’s exactly what you think." Kane stood, his nine tails swishing with agitation. "You think I’m too impulsive, too reckless to handle something this important."

Cyrus caught Kane’s wrist before he could turn away.

"I think we’re not ready to be parents."

The word hung between them, heavy with implication.

"We?"

Cyrus’s thumb traced circles against Kane’s wrist.

"If you hatch that egg, do you think I’d let you raise it alone?" His expression softened, revealing the concern beneath his stoicism.

"But Kane... this egg has been dormant for centuries. The chances of it actually hatching..."

Understanding dawned in Kane’s eyes.

"You don’t want to give me false hope."

Cyrus’s silence was answer enough. His grip on Kane’s wrist loosened but didn’t release entirely.

"I’ve seen enough disappointment in your life," Cyrus admitted quietly. "I don’t want to add to it."

Kane turned his hand, interlacing their fingers. He squeezed Cyrus’s hand, his golden eyes bright with determination.

"It’s okay if it fails. I just want to try." His voice softened, taking on a gentleness that caught Cyrus off guard.

"Think about it—if this works, you won’t be the last dragon anymore."

Cyrus’s expression shifted, something vulnerable flickering across his features before he could mask it.

"And maybe," Kane continued, a small smile tugging at his lips, "raising a baby dragon together could be fun. Teaching it to fly, dealing with accidental fire-breathing incidents, figuring out what dragons even eat as babies..."

His tails swished with growing excitement at the possibilities.

"Speaking of which," Kane tilted his head, studying Cyrus with renewed curiosity, "have you ever fathered any dragons? I mean, you’ve lived for centuries. Surely at some point—"

Cyrus’s hand jerked in Kane’s grip, his composure cracking as he made a strangled sound.

"Excuse me?"

"What? It’s a valid question." Kane’s ears twitched with amusement at Cyrus’s reaction. "You’re telling me in all those years, you never—"

"Kane." Cyrus’s voice dropped to a dangerous register, crimson eyes flashing with mixed embarrassment and indignation.

"That is not something one simply asks."

"Why not? We’re talking about raising a dragon together. Seems relevant to know if you have experience."

Cyrus released Kane’s hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"No, Kane. I have never... fathered offspring."

"Really? Not even once?"

"Would you like me to provide documentation?" Cyrus’s tone was heavy with sarcasm.

Kane’s eyes lit up with genuine curiosity.

"Wait, there’s actually documentation for that? Like, official records of dragon lineages?"

Cyrus stared at him for a long moment.

"You work for the BSA. Shouldn’t you know what documentation they keep?"

"I investigate rogue spirits and trafficking rings," Kane protested, his tails swishing defensively. "Not dragon genealogy databases."

Cyrus opened his mouth, then closed it, apparently deciding against whatever bureaucratic explanation he’d been about to launch into.

"Never mind. The answer remains no. I have never had offspring."

Kane tilted his head, considering this information.

"So then where do dragon babies come from? I mean, obviously I know where babies come from in general, but dragons specifically—"

"Kane."

"What? It’s relevant information if we’re going to hatch one."

"Dragon reproduction follows similar principles to—" Cyrus cut himself off, crimson eyes narrowing. "Why are we having this conversation?"

"Because you’ve been weirdly cagey about dragon biology since we met, and now we have an egg."

Kane’s ears perked forward with interest.

"Do dragons lay eggs like birds? Or is it more complicated? Can dragons reproduce with other species? Is that the reason you were so shocked when I asked?"

Cyrus turned on his heel and strode back to his desk, his movements carrying the distinct air of strategic retreat.

"I have reports to review."

"You can’t just walk away from this conversation!"

"Watch me." Cyrus settled into his chair, picking up his pen with deliberate focus.

Kane huffed, his nine tails bristling with indignation.

"Fine. Be mysterious about dragon reproduction." He turned back to the egg case, silver flames dancing around his fingers again.

"I’ll just figure it out myself when this one hatches."

Cyrus watched Kane crouch beside the case, silver flames reflecting off the metallic surface.

That particular set to Kane’s jaw meant he wouldn’t let this go—Cyrus had learned to recognize that stubborn tilt over the past weeks.

Once Kane latched onto something, he pursued it with single-minded determination, whether that meant investigating trafficking rings or, apparently, hatching ancient dragon eggs.

Cyrus tapped his pen against the desk, the rhythm betraying his thoughts. Kane’s questions weren’t unreasonable, merely... unexpected. And perhaps overdue.

"Kane." Cyrus set down his pen again. "Do you truly want to know the truth about dragon reproduction?"