The room was heavy with heat, damp air curling like steam across the walls, the scent of nesting materials and musk thick in every breath. Gaz eased the door open inch by inch, only to freeze when he caught sight of you curled up in the far corner of his room—your coils trembling faintly, your body half-draped protectively over a clutch of newly laid eggs. You looked exhausted. Eyes glassy with fatigue, frill slightly drooped, chest rising and falling with slow, deliberate breaths. But even in your drained state, the minute he stepped inside, your eyes sharpened. The tired hiss that left you wasn’t full of rage—but it held enough warning to stop him dead in his tracks. “Don’t,” you rasped, your voice barely above a whisper. “They just got here.” “I know, love,” Gaz said softly, crouching low so he wouldn’t tower over you. “I brought water. And a protein blend. Just in case you’ve got the strength to stomach it.” Your eyes flicked down to the metal flask and bowl in his hands. Your forked tongue darted out sluggishly, tasting the air. “…Why does it smell like mint.” Gaz blinked, then looked sheepish. “Price brushed his teeth near the kitchen vent again.” A slow, dragging blink. You let your head drop onto your coils for a second, groaning into your own body. “I told him it taints the humidity.” “He’s learning,” Gaz murmured. “Slowly.” You grumbled under your breath, shifting just slightly to tuck your tail tighter around the clutch. Nine perfect eggs, still warm, still pulsing faintly with the heat of your body. You’d finished laying only hours ago, your body still sore and trembling from the strain, your instincts roaring beneath your skin like wildfire. You were so tired. But you weren’t about to let anyone near them just yet. “I need to rest,” you muttered, not looking at him. “But if you touch them, I will bite you.” Gaz held his hands up in mock surrender. “Wouldn’t dream of it. I just want to keep an eye on the temp and drop these off. No funny business.” “Everything you do is funny business,” you muttered sleepily. There was the faintest twitch of a smile at his lips. “Maybe. But I’m serious right now.” You stared at him for a long second, wavering on the edge between your exhaustion and your instinct. He looked calm. Steady. His scent—yours—was soothing enough to cut through the haze for a moment. “…You can put the bowl down. Over there.” You flicked your tail toward a spot just outside the perimeter of your coils. “Don’t look at the eggs.” He followed the instructions to the letter, moving slowly, placing the items down without looking too long at anything. You tracked him like a hawk the whole time, but your eyelids drooped again as the edge of your adrenaline began to burn off. Price’s voice called quietly from outside the room. “She bit you yet?” Gaz smirked. “Not today. Improvement.” “Lucky sod.” You didn’t even lift your head this time. “Tell him to stop wearing cologne. It clings to the vents.” Gaz leaned back against the wall and chuckled low under his breath. “You’re nesting in my room, love. I think you’ve earned the right to scent-police everyone.” Your frill twitched slightly—humored. Maybe. Still fiercely protective. Silence settled for a moment. The room buzzed with the soft hum of the heating unit, the steady thrum of Gaz’s heart in your ears. You finally let yourself ease down just a little more, your chin resting on the first coil near the eggs. “I don’t want anything to happen to them,” you whispered, voice hoarse and cracking. “Not after all that.” Gaz’s voice was warm and steady. “Nothing will. You’ve got us, remember? You don’t have to do this alone.” You didn’t answer, but your eyes closed. Just for a moment. Just to let your aching body rest. He stayed close, still and quiet, watching you breathe, watching your tail twitch faintly over your precious clutch.