Chapter 178: Bonding Builds Trust

Cyrus set the elegant takeout bag on the coffee table.

"Kane. What are you doing?"

"Bonding," Kane said, as if the answer were obvious. "With our baby."

Cyrus’s crimson eyes narrowed, unimpressed.

"Bonding," he repeated flatly.

"Yes," Kane said brightly, ears twitching with mischief. "You know, like skin-to-shell contact. Very important for early development. Builds trust."

Cyrus arched one brow. "You made that up."

Kane’s tails swished in mock offense. "I did not. I’m very well-read on parental bonding rituals, thank you."

Cyrus exhaled through his nose, the sound halfway between a sigh and a growl. He unbuttoned his jacket, shrugging it off as he circled the table.

"Put it back in the case."

"No," Kane said at once, hugging the egg closer. "Because you’ll pretend it’s a dead rock again. But it’s not; it’s alive, and it responded to me."

Cyrus stilled. His gaze flicked to the shell, then back to Kane. "You’re certain?"

"Am I certain the giant glowing pulse of crimson light and the baby-dragon wiggles weren’t my imagination?" Kane deadpanned. "Yes. Pretty damn certain."

The fox’s stubborn conviction tugged at something deep in Cyrus’s chest. He folded his arms instead. "I don’t believe you."

Kane rolled his eyes. "Of course you don’t."

He lifted the egg so Cyrus could see better. "Go on, touch it. You’ll feel it."

Cyrus didn’t move. His instincts screamed at him to keep his distance. False hope was more dangerous than any enemy.

"Not hungry?" Kane teased, eyes gleaming. "Because I am. Speaking of—what’s in the bag?"

Cyrus seized the opening. "Lunch."

He reached for the takeout, drawing out sleek white boxes with gilded lettering. "You’ll eat first. Then we’ll discuss your... theories."

Kane’s ears perked at the aroma that drifted free—rich truffle oil, roasted garlic, and the buttery scent of wagyu. His stomach betrayed him with a loud growl.

Cyrus smirked. "Bond with food before you bond with dragon eggs."

"You’re enjoying this way too much," Kane muttered, but he reluctantly set the egg in his lap, one tail still looped protectively around it, and grabbed a box.

"Fine. But I’m multitasking."

Soon the coffee table was laden with a spread fit for royalty: wagyu sliders dripping with caramelized onions, truffle fries dusted with parmesan, delicate pastries filled with cream, and even two miniature bottles of imported wine.

Kane’s golden eyes gleamed. "All this for lunch?"

Kane grabbed a slider and took a greedy bite, muffling his retort. "This is divine. You should marry this slider."

"Unfortunately," Cyrus said smoothly, "my affections are already claimed by a troublesome fox who cannot sit still."

Kane flushed, ears flattening as he focused far too hard on his fries. "Cheesy lines don’t get you out of this conversation, you know."

Cyrus’s lips curved in the faintest smirk. "Shame."

Between bites, Kane kept sneaking glances at the egg. Each time his tail flared a little warmer, the shell pulsed faintly in response.

"See?" Kane said around a mouthful of fries. "It likes me. It’s alive."

Cyrus regarded the faint light with a skeptical frown. "Coincidence."

"Coincidence my tail," Kane huffed. "This little guy ignored Elias’s entire science fair of machines, but I hug it once and boom—lights, camera, baby dragon action."

Cyrus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Your phrasing wounds me."

Kane leaned across the table, wagyu sauce at the corner of his mouth. "Admit it, Cyrus. There’s something here. I felt it move."

Crimson eyes held his for a long moment before sliding away. "If you are right... then we’re responsible."

"Exactly." Kane’s grin returned. "Which means we should figure out how to hatch it. Preferably without the ’roast your mate alive’ method."

Cyrus stiffened at the reminder. "That is not a matter for jokes."

"Then it’s a good thing I wasn’t joking," Kane said softly, tails flicking. "There has to be another way."

Kane shoved the last of his slider into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

"Alright, brainstorming time. First idea: incubator. Like, a giant magical chicken coop. Warm, cozy, and maybe some lullabies.

"What..." Cyrus muttered, though his lips twitched.

"Second idea: foxfire blankets. I can wrap it up and keep it toasty.

"Unsustainable."

"Third idea: bedtime stories. Babies love bedtime stories." Cyrus gave him a long look.

"Kane."

"What? Don’t tell me dragons don’t appreciate good literature."

Cyrus exhaled, but some of the weight in his eyes had softened. He set down his wine glass and steepled his fingers.

"A dragon egg requires stabilized dragonfire. Foxfire may simulate warmth, but it cannot ignite life. Perhaps a hybrid approach... containment wards that mimic a nesting ground, combined with my flame in measured bursts."

Kane’s ears perked. "So you do have practical ideas."

"Practical is not the same as feasible," Cyrus cautioned. "The Fire of Creation is not something to trifle with."

Kane’s golden eyes softened. "It’s okay. We’ll figure it out."

The egg pulsed faintly between them, as if agreeing.

Silence settled, broken only by the crackle of packaging. Kane traced a finger along the shell, his voice gentling.

"Hope’s all I’ve ever had, you know. Hope that my family wasn’t gone forever. Hope that the Bureau wouldn’t screw me over completely."

His tails curled closer around the egg. "And now... hope that this little one has a chance."

For a moment, Cyrus couldn’t speak. He saw the reflection of his younger self in Kane’s eyes—the child who lost everything, who had been told to carry the weight of extinction alone. It was unbearable.

"Kane—"

The egg pulsed again, stronger this time. Both of them looked down as the shell shimmered faintly with crimson veins of light, then settled back into stillness.

Kane’s grin broke through the tension. "See? Even the baby agrees with me."

Cyrus pinched the bridge of his nose again. "You are insufferable."

"You love it."

"Unfortunately."

They finished their meal with the egg sitting comfortably on the table between them, like an uninvited but tolerated guest.

Kane fussed over it constantly, warming it with his tail whenever the glow dimmed, while Cyrus alternated between watching Kane’s antics and pretending to review paperwork.

At last, Kane leaned back with a satisfied sigh, crumbs clinging to his lips. "So, we’re agreed? No fire-of-doom methods. We find another way."

Cyrus’s gaze lingered on the egg, then shifted back to Kane. "...We will research."

Kane grinned triumphantly. "Close enough."