Chapter 25 Callan #2
Lily has black hair like her father, with several tendrils of silver like her mom, the strands catching the light as she moves.
Belle’s hair is almost exactly like Mina’s except it has some black mixed in, a midnight cascade with streaks of moon glow.
Azalea has mostly black hair like Ziggy with green mixed in, the emerald strands vibrant against the darkness.
Abraxis picks up his daughter, his hands gentle but trembling slightly, and points to the scales along her shoulders and down her back.
They catch the light, iridescent patterns against her soft skin.
“Lily is like Mina,” he says just as the ancients walk in, their presence immediately filling the room with a primal energy that raises the fine hairs on my arms.
“They have a powerful mother. And your bloodline is noteworthy as well, Abraxis.” Klauth says, smiling as he moves closer to look at Lily’s scales. His massive frame casts a shadow over them, but his approach is measured, careful not to startle.
“My daughters have scales too. What does that mean for them?” Ziggy says as he points at the twins’ backs. There aren’t as many scales as Lily has, but they are there, tiny flecks of armor catching the light.
“It means they have a powerful mother and her father's bloodline is worthy.” Mina says, smiling and looking at her three children. The pride in her voice is evident, warm and rich, but there’s an undercurrent of worry that makes my chest tighten.
I know where her mind just went. I can see it in the subtle hardening of her jawline, the way her pupils dilate slightly. She’s looking at the potential that her daughters will be sought after for breeding stock because of their scales.
“Mina?” I try to get her attention, my voice soft but insistent. She forces a smile, the corners of her mouth tight.
“I know you know where I went just now. It’s an honest concern.” Her eyes lower for a moment, lashes casting faint shadows on her cheeks.
“What’s an honest concern?” Thauglor scoots in close to her before anyone else has time to. The leather of his clothing creaks with the movement, and his scent—ancient stone and smoke—washes over us.
“My daughters bear scales like I do. They will be looked at as breeding stock because of their bloodline.” Mina lowers her head after speaking and sighs, the sound heavy with dread.
The temperature in the room seems to drop several degrees with her words.
“They need to train. Not as brutal as I was trained, but they need to be able to protect themselves.” Her eyes move from Thauglor to Abraxis, then they finally stop on Klauth, pleading for understanding.
“All children born of this nest will train to protect themselves.” He says resolutely, his deep voice resonating in my chest like a physical touch.
“Good.” Mina says as she looks at her daughters, the maternal ferocity in her gaze almost tangible.
“None of my children will be defenseless.” Vaughn walks in with the bag Mina had off to the side, the fabric rustling softly, and hands it to her.
She roots through it, the contents shifting with muted thuds and crinkling plastic, picking out diapers and little jumpers with feet.
She dresses each of the toddlers, her fingers deft and gentle, and smiles at them.
The soft cotton of the clothing whispers against their skin as she adjusts the fits.
One thing I’ve learned over the last almost four years: When Mina is quiet, I know she’s processing whatever is plaguing her.
The silence hangs heavy, punctuated only by the occasional coo or gurgle from the babies.
Whatever happened with her father, I know, will surface eventually.
“School starts up in two weeks,” I remind everyone, trying to break the tension that’s thick enough to taste—metallic and sharp on the back of my tongue.
“I’ve already been thinking about that.” Mina says as she looks from me to Ziggy, her gaze unfocused for a moment before sharpening.
“Ziggy is going to be a stay-at-home dad. Balor is going to take over his classes for the rest of the year.” Mina looks down and sighs, her breath a soft whisper of resignation.
“We just have possibly the council and definitely the mages left to deal with.” Her eyes drift to the ancients, seeking reassurance that isn’t fully there.
“We have a meeting with the heads of all the dens coming up later this week.” Klauth mentions and then looks at Thauglor, a silent communication passing between them that prickles my skin with unease.
“There’s a male in one of the nests close to here preparing to hit wyrm status. We believe if it’s the mages, they will strike there. It’s why we’re calling the summit.” Thauglor says as his eyes focus on the hatchlings, his gaze a mixture of tenderness and calculation that’s unsettling to witness.
“What if it is the mages?” Mina asks, and you can see the fear in her eyes looking between Klauth and Thauglor. Her voice wavers slightly, betraying the stress her body tries to hide.
“That’s where you and Ziggy come in. He’ll phase you in, and you can electrocute them.” Klauth says calmly, as if discussing nothing more consequential than the weather. The casualness with which he discusses lethal force sends a chill down my spine.
“When does he hit wyrm status?” I pull up the calendar app on my phone, the blue light from the screen harsh in the warm-toned room, casting an unnatural glow on my hands.
“Towards the end of the school year. We’ll get an exact date when we meet for the summit.” Thauglor answers, his voice measured but tense.
“Do you need me with you?” Mina asks as she tucks her daughters into the surrounding furs, the soft material rustling as she arranges it just so. Her maternal instincts are at war with her warrior nature—I can see it in the conflicted expression that flits across her face.
“It wouldn’t hurt.” Klauth says as he looks at Abraxis, his gaze assessing and cold.
“You’re healed, but not at full strength.
Whatever you do, don’t do anything that may hint at the fact you have a damaged wing.
” His eyes move to Mina when she’s not looking, the silent warning hanging in the air between them.
The message is clear: a stronger male may challenge him for his place at Mina’s side.
The thought sends a wave of protective anger through me, hot and sharp.
“What do you need me to do?” I take a sip of my drink, the cool liquid a stark contrast to the warmth of the conversation. The subtle bite of alcohol burns pleasantly down my throat. My eye move from ancient to ancient, trying to read their intentions beneath their controlled exteriors.
“Research the dens. Dig up whatever information you and Ziggy can find on them. Anything we can leverage.” Klauth says as he looks back at Mina, who’s now asleep with her babies, her chest rising and falling in the slow rhythm of exhaustion.
Her face, relaxed in sleep, looks younger, more vulnerable—a stark reminder of what we’re all fighting to protect.
The battle she fought took more out of her than she will ever admit, clear in the way her body had simply shut down, seeking healing in unconsciousness.
“You’ve got it.” Between Ziggy and me, we have extensive connections across the continent.
My mind already begins sorting through contacts and resources we can tap without alerting anyone to our intentions.
It’s time to research and gain enough leverage to get the dens to cooperate.
The weight of responsibility settles on my shoulders, heavy but not unwelcome.
For Mina and her children, I’d shoulder far more.