Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
I have been moving back and forth between the main nest and the private birthing chamber like a man possessed, appearing and disappearing at moments when the others least expect it.
Every detail must be absolutely perfect for Operation Last Clutch—Mina’s romantic ambush depends on flawless execution, and I refuse to let my beloved mate down.
The birthing chamber itself is a sanctuary of comfort and security, with soft lighting that can be adjusted for any mood, walls lined with the finest fabrics money can buy, and every amenity an expecting dragon could desire.
I’ve been checking and double-checking the temperature controls, the soundproofing enchantments, and the privacy wards that will ensure complete intimacy for Mina’s romantic encounters.
Just as I’m about to phase out of the chamber after my latest inspection, powerful arms suddenly grab me from behind and drag me deeper into the shadows. The grip is firm but familiar, carrying the casual strength that speaks to years of friendship and mutual trust.
“You’re up to something,” comes the telltale agitated hiss of Balor’s partially shifted voice.
The sibilant sounds enunciate every ‘s’ in that exaggerated manner that means his basilisk nature is riding close to the surface.
His sunglasses catch the dim light as he studies me with the intensity of someone who knows me far too well.
“I’m sworn to secrecy,” I whisper back, though we both know perfectly well that I could vanish from his arms in the space of a heartbeat if I truly wanted to escape.
The thing is, given our decades of friendship and the trust we’ve built together, I simply can’t bring myself to phase away from him.
Some bonds are too strong to break, even when keeping secrets.
“What exactly are you preparing for?” Balor asks as he releases me, allowing me to turn and face him properly. His expression behind those protective lenses is serious, but I can see the concern there—the worry that comes from caring about someone’s well-being.
I glance around quickly, my senses automatically checking for any signs of eavesdroppers or unwanted observers. Satisfied that we’re alone, I grab Balor’s arm and phase us both instantly across space to the secluded beach that sits across from the ancient temple of Bahamut.
The transition from indoor chamber to outdoor coastline is seamless, reality bending around us as we materialize on warm sand with the endless ocean stretching before us and the sacred temple’s spires visible in the distance. The salty breeze carries the familiar scents of the sea and possibility.
“Mina is planning her next clutch,” I explain, looking around carefully to ensure we’re far enough out in the open that no one can sneak up on our conversation undetected. The beach stretches empty in both directions, with only the sound of waves and calling seabirds to keep us company.
“That explains quite a lot,” Balor nods, understanding that comes from years of observing Mina’s patterns and behavior.
“Do you need assistance with anything specific?” His dark eyebrow arches above the rim of his protective sunglasses, and I can practically see his brilliant mind already formulating plans and strategies.
I reach into the inner pocket of my jacket and extract my well-worn notebook; the pages are filled with weeks of careful observations and meticulous scheduling details.
“Yes, actually. When Mina gives me the signal to begin, I need to collect the mates in question.” I stare down at the notes covering the first page, then look up to meet Balor’s gaze directly.
“Any help you could provide in distracting the dragons in our group would be tremendously appreciated.”
“Consider it done,” he responds without hesitation, clapping me on the shoulder with the firm gesture that seals unspoken agreements between old friends. “I absolutely hate watching the others mope around, staring at our existing children while waiting desperately for their turn at fatherhood.”
He turns to look out over the rolling waves, his expression thoughtful as he considers the logistics of our conspiracy. “When do we officially start this operation?”
“October twentieth, in theory,” I reply, though we both understand that Mina going into her fertile season isn’t an exact science. Dragon biology operates on its own mysterious timeline, influenced by everything from lunar cycles to emotional states to atmospheric pressure.
Balor pulls out his phone with efficient movements and makes a careful notation on his digital calendar. “Just let me know the moment it’s a confirmed go, and we’ll get this romantic ambush executed flawlessly.”
“I think Raven suspects something is developing,” I mention, glancing around once more. There’s an odd prickle along my spine that suggests unseen eyes might be watching our supposedly private conversation.
“She’s far too perceptive for someone her age,” Balor agrees, still gazing out at the water with the contemplative focus that means he’s processing multiple layers of information simultaneously. “That child sees patterns and connections that most adults would miss entirely.”
“Who’s too perceptive?” Raven’s unmistakably youthful voice suddenly pipes up from directly behind us, causing both Balor and me to jump so violently that we splash backward into the shallow waves.
There, standing on the sand like they’ve been there for hours, are Belladonna and Raven, arm in arm and staring up at us with expressions of innocent curiosity that don’t fool either of us for a single second.
My daughter Bella’s eyes are bright with mischief, while Raven’s gaze carries that unsettling depth that makes her seem far older than her chronological age.
“Bloody hell, kids! What did we specifically tell you about sneaking up on adults?” I grip my chest dramatically, trying to slow down my racing heart while simultaneously calculating how much of our conversation they might have overheard.
“If we’re going to do it, don’t get caught?” Belladonna suggests with the helpful tone that makes it clear she knows exactly what she’s done wrong and is proud of it.
“Make sure the coast is clear and that no one is actively holding a weapon?” Raven adds with perfect innocence, though the slight smirk playing at the corners of her mouth suggests she’s enjoying our startled reactions immensely.
Shit. The one time I desperately need them to ignore our instructions, they follow them to the absolute letter. I run my hand down my face with a long-suffering sigh, feeling the weight of being outmaneuvered by children who are far too clever for anyone’s good.
“You both executed the technique perfectly,” I admit reluctantly, glancing over at Balor to see barely contained humor dancing in his eyes behind those protective lenses.
“Who’s too perceptive, and what exactly is happening on the twentieth?” Raven asks with that distinctive head tilt she’s inherited directly from her father. It’s the same gesture Thauglor uses when his patience is wearing thin and he wants answers immediately.
“Mommy is planning a special surprise for Daddy Lee, Daddy Vaughn, and Daddy Callan,” I explain, hoping that telling a version of the truth without revealing the complete picture might satisfy their curiosity without compromising the operation.
Raven’s eyes dart from mine to Balor’s and back again, studying our faces with the intense scrutiny that makes me feel like she can read minds.
Then she pulls Belladonna into the protective shelter of her dark leather wings, and I can hear the soft murmur of whispered consultation taking place behind that living curtain.
Periodically, she pokes her head out to study us with those unnervingly perceptive eyes before diving back into private discussion with her co-conspirator. Finally, she opens her wings fully and crosses her arms in perfect imitation of her mother’s most intimidating stance.
“We think it has something to do with the next clutch,” Raven announces with the confidence of someone stating an obvious fact, looking over at Belladonna for confirmation.
“Mom got all sketchy and evasive last time too,” Bella adds with great finality, her expression serious despite her young age. “Dodging direct questions, vanishing from sight at odd moments, being extra secretive about everything. I’ve definitely seen this pattern before.”
Bloody hell. It wasn’t just Raven I needed to worry about, but my own incredibly perceptive progeny as well. The realization that I’ve been outmaneuvered by my daughter is both pride-inducing and terrifying.
“Don’t worry—Azalea is interrogating Mom as we speak, with Orpheus providing backup support,” Raven adds with a smirk that’s absolutely diabolical in its knowing satisfaction.
She looks directly at Balor when she mentions his son, clarifying that our entire conspiracy has been thoroughly compromised by a group of children who are far too intelligent for anyone’s peace of mind.
“How can we help with the operation?” Bella asks with the eager enthusiasm that makes me throw up my hands in defeat before flopping dramatically into the warm sand.
“Distract the other fathers as effectively as possible,” I sigh, accepting that resistance is futile when faced with such determined young conspirators.
“That’s incredibly easy,” Raven responds with the confidence of someone who’s already planned a complete battle plan.
“I’ll simply say I want to fly to the oasis for swimming, and Daddy will take me immediately.
Lily will want to come along, which means Daddy Abraxis will follow to supervise.
That’s two fathers successfully diverted from the primary operation. ”
“Klauth is extremely proud when it comes to the ancient history of his bloodline,” Bella adds, clearly having given this considerable thought.
“I’ll ask him to take me exploring the ruins of his ancestral castle so we can search for treasure and artifacts.
He’ll spend hours giving me detailed history lessons about the region and his family’s legacy. ”
I stare at Balor in complete shock, hardly able to believe how much easier these brilliant hatchlings have just made our romantic conspiracy. Their strategic thinking is honestly impressive, even if it means our “secret” operation now has additional participants.
“That distraction would help tremendously,” I admit with genuine gratitude, smiling down at Raven despite the complexity she’s just introduced to our plans.
“On one condition,” Raven says, rolling her head in that distinctly dragonic gesture and flexing her leather wings with deliberate emphasis.
Damn it. I should have known there would be conditions attached to their cooperation. “What is it?” I ask, though I’m already glancing over at Balor and noting that he’s cringing in anticipation of whatever demand is about to be made.
“To be named later...” Raven says with a mysterious smile as she extends one small hand toward me in the gesture of formal agreement.
The phrase sends chills down my spine because it suggests she’s already planning something that will require a significant favor from me in the future. I feel like I’m about to sign my soul away to some supernatural entity far more clever and dangerous than she appears.
“Agreed,” I say reluctantly, shaking her hand with the sinking feeling that I’ve just made a deal with a miniature version of Baphomet himself.
The satisfied smile that crosses Raven’s face as our hands meet tells me that Operation Last Clutch just became infinitely more complicated—and probably more entertaining—than I ever anticipated.