Chapter 9 Callan
Callan
To be gifted a dragon’s scale, let alone have a dragon for a mate, is mind-blowing.
The weight of it on my chest is a constant reminder, cool against my skin even through my shirt, pulsing faintly with Mina’s life force.
Mina gave all of us scales within a school day and couldn’t wait to do it.
The urgency in her movements, the gleam in her eyes—it was like watching a predator claim its territory.
Today she’s off with Klauth preparing for the dragon council to arrive later.
The idea of those ancients being here sets my feathers on edge, causing them to ripple and shift uncomfortably beneath my skin.
I get to oversee the cleaning and setup of the war room to host them when they arrive.
The scent of furniture polish and floor cleaner stings my nostrils as I shake my head, watching everyone running around, the sound of their footsteps echoing off the marble floors.
Cleaning staff scurry about like ants, dusting every surface until it gleams. “Has anyone checked the menu for tonight’s dinner?
” I yell down the hallway, my voice bouncing off the stone walls, waiting to hear someone answer.
The taste of anxiety is metallic on my tongue.
“Relax. Mom and Cora are overseeing the food. Mina abducted Addy back from wherever she was to make sure the guest rooms are ready.” Abraxis pulls out a small notebook, the leather cover worn and soft from use, and looks it over.
He flips through the pages, the soft rustle of paper audible in the relative quiet.
“Besides hunting Abaddon, do you know what’s happening?” I arch the brow over my empty eye socket, knowing how much it unnerves him. The air around us cools slightly as I watch him shift uncomfortably, his weight moving from one foot to the other.
Abraxis shivers, his scales rippling subtly beneath his skin, and looks down at the notepad.
“I believe they are formally telling the elders that the females on this isle will fall under their king’s protection.
” He inhales deeply, the sound raspy in the quiet room, then looks down again.
“Thauglor is at the temple of Bahamut, verifying who he is. Dad went with him to officially hand over control of Blackhaven to him.” I can see the corner of Abraxis’s eye twitch, a tiny movement that speaks volumes.
“That bothers you, I’m guessing.” I lean back against the couch, the leather cool and smooth beneath my palms, just as Leander walks in. His scent—clean linen and winter—precedes him, a stark contrast to the tension in the room.
“Of course it fucking bothers me,” Abraxis snaps, his voice sharp enough to cut.
“Blackhaven was supposed to be mine as soon as I sired my first offspring. Now I inherit nothing. Not a damn bloody thing.” He throws his arms in the air, the movement displacing the air enough that I can feel it against my face, and shakes his head.
The bitter scent of his anger fills the room, acrid and unpleasant.
“Yes, you don’t inherit Blackhaven.” Thauglor’s voice, deep and resonant, fills the room as he and Vox enter.
The ancient’s presence is like a physical weight, pressing down on all of us.
His scent—old stone and something primordial—overpowers everything else in the room.
“Instead, you are part of a nest that controls almost two-thirds of an entire continent.” Thauglor flexes his wings in challenge, the sound of leathery membranes stretching loud in the sudden silence.
Abraxis backs down immediately, his posture shifting to one of submission.
“Shit changes, youngling. Life is about change and adapting.” Thauglor goes and leans against the desk, the wood creaking slightly under his weight.
“I had a feeling this was going to be an issue.” Vox says as he steps into the center of the room, his footsteps firm against the floor.
The temperature seems to drop further with his presence.
“You’re missing the big picture, Abraxis.
” His dad arches a brow, waiting for Abraxis to look up.
“You are third in line for the throne of the Aurelian Isles, that is until Klauth and Mina have a hatchling, then you get bumped back a space.” Vox glances over at Thauglor, who motions for him to continue with a flick of his wrist, the gesture almost imperceptible.
“Our bloodline is in the line of succession for the throne, not once but twice,” Vox mentions, his voice rising with passion. “How many bloodlines living can boast that? None.” The pride in his voice is palpable, filling the room with its warmth.
“Historically, our kind have been outcasts and the villains in everyone’s stories,” Thauglor says with a sigh that seems to come from the depths of his ancient soul.
“Red dragons can rain literal hellfire down upon the lands. We can melt our enemies in a pool of acid. If that acid happens to be ignited—BOOM. Burning acid fireball that nothing is immune to.” His words paint a vivid picture that makes my skin crawl with imagined heat.
“Are we sure about that?” I ask and touch the scale on my chest, feeling it pulse beneath my fingertips. The thought of Mina’s acid, her lightning, and her potential for destruction makes my heart race with a mixture of fear and pride.
“We are never testing that theory,” Thauglor practically growls, and the air feels suddenly heavy, pressing down on my chest, making it difficult to breathe. His eyes flash dangerously, pupils narrowing to slits.
“Agreed,” I say quickly, the word almost sticking in my suddenly dry throat. I make sure the conversation doesn’t go any further, grateful when the tension in the room eases slightly.
Ziggy manifests with Mina and Klauth out of nowhere, the air shimmering and condensing around them before they fully materialize.
The displacement of air sends a gust that ruffles my hair, and I instinctively smooth it down.
Then seconds later, the council members manifest on the arms of other displacer beasts from Ziggy’s pride, their appearances causing a series of small wind gusts that set the candles flickering.
“Thank you, everyone!” Mina says, smiling completely unfazed by phasing from one place to the other.
Her voice is like music, bright and warm in the suddenly crowded room.
Her scent—ozone and something uniquely her—fills my nostrils, instantly calming my nerves.
On the flip side, the council, and Klauth all look sick to their stomachs, their skin pale, and their postures hunched.
I move quickly and start pouring cups of ginger tea, the spicy-sweet aroma rising with the steam, to help with the nausea.
“Here, this will help,” I offer the teacup to the first elder, the porcelain warm against my fingers.
“You have a gryphon in your nest?” The female takes on a haughty tone, her voice dripping with disdain. I can see the scales raise on the back of Mina’s neck, her anger a tangible thing in the air between us. The temperature in the room seems to rise several degrees as her fury builds.
“What did you just say?” Mina growls, her eyes burning golden as she stares at the elder. The room feels smaller, heavier with the presence of her dragoness. The air crackles with tension, and I can feel the vibration of her growl through the floor beneath my feet.
“You have a gryphon in your nest. It’s not done.” The elder turns her head away, the dismissive gesture like a slap, and Mina moves quickly to get in that elder’s face. The sound of her talons against each other is sharp and threatening as she advances.
“That gryphon is my mate.” Mina clacks her jaws like she did when she threatened Thauglor, the sound like stones striking together.
It’s an ancient dragonic threat from what Klauth told me.
Basically, she will rend the flesh from their bones and grind them into dust. She doesn’t break eye contact with the elder, the intensity of her gaze almost physically pushing the older dragon back.
I can see Klauth and Thauglor moving into position to stop Mina, their muscles tense and ready.
“She took her dragon mate before the gryphon per the accords,” Vox mentions from the sidelines, his voice deliberately calm despite the tension filling the room.
Mina’s head suddenly turns to lock eyes with Klauth, the movement so quick it’s almost a blur.
There’s a silence in the room that makes my skin crawl, the quiet humming with unspoken words.
She turns from Klauth to Thauglor, then back to the female elder.
A laugh escapes Mina’s lips, the sound sharp, and cold like breaking ice, as she moves to position herself between me and the elder.
Her body radiates heat, a protective shield of flesh and scale.
“You forget whom you speak to, elder.” Mina does that head roll with the tilt of her head like Klauth does, a movement that usually annoys her.
“I am the High Queen of the Marzana Empire, and between my mates and I control over two-thirds of this continent and its forces.” Mina smirks as she crosses her arms under her chest, the gesture accentuating her power rather than diminishing it.
A male elder steps forward, his footsteps heavy on the marble floor, the sound echoing in the tense silence. “Are you going to allow your mate to disrespect an elder like that?” He stares at Klauth, his eyes narrowed in challenge.
Klauth laughs, the sound rolling through the room like thunder. “You’re all younglings compared to me. What do I care about what you do and don’t want?” Klauth glances over at Thauglor, who steps forward, his presence expanding to fill the room.
“Our mate, our Queen, will not be disrespected in her home,” Thauglor spreads his wings, the leathery membranes stretching wide, and holds them out as a threat.
The air shifts around us, pushed by the powerful appendages.
“You forget that Klauth and I come from a time where females were protected and cherished and were more valuable than land or gold.” He steps forward, his movements fluid and menacing, and takes Mina from me to have her rest against his chest. Her back presses against him, and I can see the immediate relaxation in her posture, the trust evident in every line of her body.
“You may be her elder, but you are not mine. As far as I am concerned, you are not her elder either.” Thauglor kisses Mina’s cheek, his lips brushing against her skin like a whisper, resting a hand on her shoulder.
“As for what species I have in my nest,” Mina smiles and laughs a little, the sound warming the room.
“They are none of your concern. My scale lives on their flesh, marking them as a dragon mate.” Her words make the scale on my chest pulse stronger, a warm glow spreading from it through my body.
“Only a true mate can wear a dragon’s scale and have it live on their flesh, thus elevating them to a dragon mate.
No less than a dragon, but not a dragon.
” Mina looks over at me and smiles, the expression full of pride and affection, before looking back at the elder.
“You will afford all of my mates the respect my scale offers them, or we will see just how powerful this little female can be.”
The oldest of the elders opens and closes his mouth several times, looking between Mina and her ancient mates.
The sound of his jaw clicking shut is the only noise in the room for several heartbeats.
Abraxis walks in with Balor and the rest of Mina’s mates just after the standoff, the door opening with a soft creak as they enter.
The scent of them—a mix of individual notes that somehow blend into something that smells like home—fills the room, completing our nest’s presence.
The scale on my chest pulses in time with my heartbeat, a constant reminder of the bond we all share, stronger than blood, stronger than species, stronger than tradition.