Cinder found Treason alone on the beach, staring at the sun slowly sinking into the ocean. She calmly sat next to him, taking a deep breath. "Treason... there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"So you're finally gonna tell me what's up?" He asked, as if he'd known all along. He obviously knew that something was wrong—or maybe right, depending on how he was about to take it. But had Rye clued something? Or Whisky? No, they wouldn't.

"Y-yes," Cinder answered awkwardly. "And before I do, I'm just going to say that I'm sorry for not letting you know sooner."

"Okay..." he said, somewhat suspiciously. "Go on then."

Cinder sat quietly, struggling to breathe. He glanced at her after a minute, and she quickly said, "J-just promise me this: promise we'll always be together, okay? Promise we'll love each other forever."

"Now you're making me nervous," he murmured, shifting on his talons.

"Just promise, please," Cinder begged.

Treason shrugged. "Fine. I promise. Now what in Pyrriah is going on with you?"

Cinder looked down at her talons. They had been through so much together. First Cinder had helped him move past the deaths of his parents, and then he helped Cinder get over her father, Mirage. And they'd been together for years, laughing and running and stealing, setting their reputation as the most dangerous couple in history... what if that was about to be thrown away? Over an egg?

If he leaves because of this, he'll be an entirely different dragon than I think he is. But what else can I do? Hide his own son or daughter away from him? Kill the egg? Give it away?

She'd never be able to bring herself to do any of those things. So that meant that this was the only option. Tell Treason everything, lay the egg, and hope he'll stick around to help her raise it.

"I'm pregnant," she finally blurted.

Treason flinched in shock. His face looked like everything was fitting together and falling apart inside his mind; whatever else, he seemed terrified.

"P-pregnant!" He echoed, stunned. "But we can't be parents!"

"We're ten years old," Cinder responded. "Most dragons are even younger when they have their first eggs."

"That's not—we live dangerous lives, Cinder. There's no place for a dragonet in that sort of life." And then he gasped. "That's why you wanted to come here! This wasn't a vacation; you wanted to settle."

That was everything their relationship was built on: no settling. Stay wild and crazy and free forever.

"Just until the dragonet is old enough to keep up," Cinder said desperately.

"This is all wrong," he muttered, his tail lashing.

"Well, what do you want me to do?" Cinder snapped. "Cough up the egg and smash it? I don't think it works that way, Treason!"

"There must be someone we could—Rye and Whisky! They might want it, right?"

Cinder suspected that if she had fire, smoke would be rising from her ears right now. "This is your dragonet we're talking about. How dare you want to GIVE IT TO SOMEONE ELSE!"

"Well, if we don't want it-"

"But I do want it!" Cinder interrupted.

"I can't—I can't do this," Treason growled, stumbling back. "I'm sorry, really, but I can't stay here."

"B-b-but you promised!" Cinder cried, lunging forward to grab his talons.

He shrugged helplessly and took off, winging away, over the beach and into the horizon. Cinder sat there, pulling her wings close to her sides, and just cried. She cried until Rye and Whisky found her hours later and brought her to bed. And then she lied awake and cried some more.

Treason, the love of her life, had turned out to be a major sand-snorting cactus-brained jerk!