Chapter 3
Zara
Zara stood in front of her open closet, hands on her hips, trying not to overthink the question looping in her mind.
I wonder what Drakkons find attractive?
It wasn’t even confirmed that he would be working with them.
Not that she was dressing for him. Obviously not. She just…wanted to look nice. For herself. And maybe because she’d accidentally, totally accidentally, fallen down a Lifting the Vale rabbit hole last night.
Honestly, it wasn’t her fault the gossip site had a whole section dedicated to Drakkons.
It wasn’t even good journalism; it was just memes, grainy pictures, and vaguely dramatic “eyewitness accounts.” But it was far more interesting than the boring academic articles about Drakkon physiology and mountain governance she’d tried before.
From what she’d gathered, Drakkon mates were almost always human women. All shapes and sizes, but decidedly feminine, flowing skirts, soft hair, delicate jewelry. A vibe.
“Well,” Zara murmured, “luckily I can do feminine.”
She sifted through the hangers until she found a soft, flowy dress in a shade of blue that made her brown eyes look brighter. Just as she slipped it off the hook, her bedroom door flew open with the force of a minor hurricane.
Liora strode in.
Her sister’s hair—shaved on one side, short on the other—was styled into sharp little spikes today, like she’d fought gravity and won. She wore ripped black jeans, heavy combat boots, and a slate-gray cropped T-shirt layered with silver chains and rings. Bold, brash, and unapologetically herself.
Decidedly not the “feminine mate material” Zara had seen online.
But undeniably stylish.
And very much Liora.
Zara sighed. “Do you knock?”
“No,” Liora said, flopping onto the bed. “You’re welcome.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why do you look like you’re getting ready for a date? Who’s the dress for?”
“It’s not a date,” Zara said quickly. Too quickly.
Liora’s grin widened. “Ohhh, so it is for someone.”
Zara slipped the dress on. “It’s not. And even if it were, it’s none of your business.”
“Hmm,” Liora mused, tapping her chin. “Are you already on the apps here? Thirsty much?”
Zara groaned. “Get out of my room.”
But her cheeks warmed, betraying her completely.
“You know I’ll figure it out,” Liora teased, stretching out like a satisfied cat.
Zara narrowed her eyes.
“We’ll figure it out,” Liora corrected with a wicked grin.
Zara lifted the hanger, ready to launch it at her sister’s head, but Liora threw her hands up.
“Okay, okay, settle down!” she laughed. “I actually came to tell you that Elian made breakfast.”
Zara’s jaw dropped. “Really?”
“Yeah, I’m just as surprised as you are,” Liora said, pushing herself upright.
Zara blinked. Their brother cooking? In the morning? Voluntarily?
“He can cook,” she conceded. “Breakfast only.”
“That’s right, he can. Which means maybe we’ll start the day off right.”
Zara lowered the hanger, her annoyance dissolving a little. A home-cooked breakfast did sound good.
And maybe, she glanced at her reflection in the mirror, maybe looking nice was fine too. For herself.
Not for any particular Drakkon.
Definitely not.
Liora popped up from the bed and darted to Zara’s vanity, rifling through the scattered makeup until she found a deep burgundy lipstick. She uncapped it with a flourish and applied it in quick, confident swipes.
“Don’t take too long,” she said, smacking her lips. “You’re way too pretty to be dressing up for a guy.”
“Ugh,” Zara groaned, snatching the lipstick out of her hand. “Don’t start.”
Liora just sauntered toward the door, unbothered. She snagged a denim jacket hanging from a chair on her way out, tossing Zara a wink before disappearing down the hall.
Zara shook her head as she put on a pair of ankle boots. Her siblings were far too comfortable commenting on her life, always had been, always would be. That was the curse of being triplets. No privacy, ever.
She chose a pinkish lip gloss, something soft and safe, and tossed it into her bag before heading toward the kitchen.
The moment she stepped inside, a low whistle cut through the room.
Elian stood at the counter, his tousled brown hair brushing just beneath his ears and his warm olive skin catching the morning light.
He wore a long-sleeved shirt, covered in paint spatters, like all his clothes, with the sleeves pushed up to reveal the swirling tattoos on his forearms. She’d always loved his tattoos; they were as artistic and expressive as he was.
“You ate with that outfit,” Elian said, eyebrows lifting meaningfully.
Zara groaned and shot Liora a murderous look. Liora only grinned, clearly proud of herself.
“Speaking of,” Zara said, eager to redirect, “what’s this breakfast you supposedly made?”
“Oh, yeah!” Elian perked up. “Bacon, egg, and cheese.” He motioned proudly to the sandwich resting on a plate. “We’re almost done!”
“That’s okay,” Zara said quickly. “I’ll eat while we walk.”
She wrapped the sandwich in a napkin, grateful for the distraction, and even more grateful to shut down the teasing, then followed her siblings out the door.
The three of them had decided to get their own apartment in the neighborhood, close enough to the office that they could walk to work. Zara finished the sandwich by the time they reached the building, brushing crumbs off her dress as they walked through the door.
Another day. Another adventure.
She walked down the hall and paused at the glass wall of their conference room.
And there he was—Hektor—sitting with his arms crossed, somehow managing to take up half the room just by existing.
The sight of him sent a small thump through her chest. She still couldn’t read Drakkon expressions well enough to tell if he was bored or… something else.
“What is that?” Elian whispered, leaning in beside her.
“Oh, that’s Hektor. He’s a Drakkon,” Zara said, trying to sound casual.
“You know him?” Elian asked.
“He’s the one who burned Perseus’s desk,” Liora reminded him before Zara could answer. Zara had told them the story, well, most of it. She’d left out the part about finding his ridiculously broad shoulders far too appealing.
“I guess he decided to be part of the team,” Zara said.
“This should be interesting,” Liora murmured, eyes bright with mischief.
They stepped into the conference room, and Zara cleared her throat, doing quick introductions. “Hektor, this is Liora and Elian.”
Hektor gave the triplets a single, low grunt that might’ve been Good morning. Hard to tell with Drakkons.
Liora and Elian sat and immediately pulled out their phones like synchronized swimmers of distraction. Zara shot them a look but let it go. She took the seat across from Hektor, studying the way he somehow made a standard conference chair look undersized.
“So,” she ventured, “you’re going to be part of the team?”
Hektor lifted his gaze to hers. “Yes.” Then, after a beat, he added, “Medusa said she and Perseus will be here shortly.”
“Oh. Good.” Zara straightened a folder she didn’t need to straighten. “You made that decision fast.”
“It was an easy decision to make,” he said simply.
“Well,” she said, trying for light and not too obvious, “we’ve only been here a couple of days, so it’ll be nice to have someone from Vale Crossing to work with.”
Hektor inclined his head, steady and unreadable, and she pretended that his attention didn’t make her pulse skip.
“As long as I don’t have to be a babysitter, wrangling you and your siblings,” Hektor said, voice flat as stone.
“Rude,” Zara heard Liora mutter without looking up from her phone.
Zara ignored her. “We’re not children,” she shot back. “And our powers make this search way easier.”
Hektor snorted, a low, dismissive sound that made her want to throw her pen at him.
She rolled her eyes. “How old are you that you think we need babysitting?” Another thing she didn’t know about Drakkons, she couldn’t even guess his age. Hopefully not too old.
“I’m thirty-two,” he said.
“Is that the same as in human years?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” She blinked. “Well, you’re not that much older then.”
His brow rose. “Oh yeah?”
“Yes,” she said, lifting her chin. “We’re twenty-one.”
Another snort. “But if your power is that good…wait, what is your power, exactly?”
Zara opened her mouth, but before she could answer, Medusa and Perseus stepped into the room.
“Good, you’ve all met Hektor,” Medusa said, taking her usual spot at the head of the table.
“For this meeting, we’ll sort out everyone’s roles,” Perseus added, giving a nod toward the triplets. “And you three should explain your abilities, so Hektor knows what he’s working with.”
Liora, naturally, jumped in first.
“Elian can read magical signatures,” she said, jerking her thumb at her brother. “Auras, traces of enchantments, if something’s been tampered with, he sees it.”
Elian lifted his gaze from his phone long enough to give a tiny wave.
“And Zara,” Liora continued, “picks up emotional residue. Feelings left behind in a place or on an object. Hidden intentions, too, she senses what people aren’t saying out loud.”
Zara felt Hektor’s stare flick toward her at that.
“And me?” Liora tapped a hand against her chest. “I get…family echoes, I guess. A kind of pull when someone shares our geryon blood. It’s not exact, but I catch glimpses, symbols, or memories that feel like they belong to someone way before us.”
She shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, though it absolutely was.
“There,” she said. “That’s the basics.”
“That’s all fine,” Hektor said, leaning back in his chair, arms still crossed like he was physically incapable of relaxing. “But I thought we were looking for the children of Zeus and not the descendants of Cyncus.”
“Right,” Zara replied, sitting up straighter. “We are. And for the past couple of weeks, we’ve been training with Hecate.”
At the name, even Hektor raised a brow.