Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
We head out to the upper courtyard, our family moving with the practiced coordination that comes from years of managing such a large, family.
The children who can fly have already shifted to their magnificent beast forms, their scales catching the evening light like living jewels.
The newest additions remain in their vulnerable baby forms, cradled protectively in their fathers’ arms with the tender care that makes my heart swell with pride for these incredible men who have become my brothers in every way that matters.
According to Vaughn, his son Salem is already strong enough to glide down with him—a testament to the robust gargoyle genetics flowing through the little one’s veins.
That leaves only my daughters and me, along with Balor and his son, and Leander with his precious daughter, requiring our displacer beast abilities to safely transport them to the celebration below.
“Azalea, please take Orpheus down to the ground level with the others,” I request, my voice warm with paternal affection.
My daughter looks up at me with those intelligent eyes that remind me so much of her mother, nodding with the quiet confidence that makes me burst with pride.
She moves over to her brother with fluid grace, and Orpheus coils around her body with complete trust while she wraps her tentacles around him protectively.
Within seconds, they phase out of sight, my daughter’s natural mastery of displacement magic making my chest tight with emotion.
Balor walks to the edge of the courtyard and peers down, his scarred face breaking into a smile that transforms his entire demeanor.
“They’re good,” he announces proudly, then turns to pat my shoulder with the easy camaraderie of deep friendship.
“Your daughter is a chip off the old block, Zig.” The genuine admiration in his voice makes my green eyes glow brighter with paternal pride.
Bella approaches Isolde with the same careful precision her sister displayed, and Leander watches with the intense focus of a protective father as my daughter coils her tentacles around the small foal.
When she’s certain her little sister is completely secure, Bella phases them both down below.
Lee rushes to the edge immediately, his face lighting up with relief and joy as he spots them romping around safely in the courtyard below.
“Let’s join the others,” Lee says with barely contained excitement, reaching out to grasp my hand with the trust that speaks to the unbreakable bonds we’ve forged through shared trials and triumphs.
I take both Balor and Leander by the arm, feeling the familiar anticipation that always precedes using my displacement abilities.
Phasing from place to place feels like slipping through the finest silk sheets to me—a sensation so intimate and pleasurable that it never loses its appeal.
The gentle caress of time and space as reality blurs past me is like being embraced by the welcoming arms of a lover, warm and encompassing and utterly right.
We manifest in the lower courtyard within feet of their hatchlings, and both men immediately break into wide smiles as they rush to join their children.
My daughters walk over and shift back to their human forms with the fluid grace that marks them as truly extraordinary young women.
“Come on, Dad, everyone is waiting!” Azalea says with infectious enthusiasm, grabbing my hand with eager fingers.
Bella captures my other hand, and together they pull me toward the massive bonfire that Klauth has just ignited for the entire flight, the flames dancing against the darkening sky like living poetry.
All the children belonging to our flight gather in the expansive open field where Mina usually soars overhead, directing Abraxis and Leander to drop their precious cargo of candy and toys.
I notice with a flutter of anticipation that my beloved mate and bond brothers are conspicuously absent, and I prepare myself for the traditional candy drop that has become one of our most cherished holiday rituals.
The familiar rumble of thunder in the distance heralds Mina’s arrival, and my heart immediately begins racing with excitement and love.
Dozens of children born to our flight cheer and crane their necks skyward, their faces glowing with anticipation.
They know that distinctive sound means their beloved flight mother is approaching.
Instead of showing the fear that thunder typically inspires, these precious little ones cheer for the storm she brings—a testament to the trust and adoration she’s earned through years of devoted care.
Lightning illuminates the darkening sky in brilliant flashes, creating a dramatic backdrop for Mina’s magnificent entrance.
Her roar shakes the very air around us and reverberates through my chest like a physical caress, stirring something primal and profound within my displacer beast soul.
Within moments, she glides overhead with breathtaking grace, her massive form silhouetted against the storm clouds as candy and stuffed animals rain down upon us like colorful hail.
The children erupt into joyful chaos, running in every direction to catch what they can before gathering their treasures in one central collection area.
I discovered earlier that the older children made a heartwarming agreement last year to pool everything together and allow the newest additions to choose first. Whatever remains, the older children divide among themselves with surprising fairness and maturity.
That Raven was the one who suggested this arrangement fills me with such pride that my eyes burn with happy tears.
The children naturally follow her directions without complaint or fighting—a testament to the natural leadership qualities she’s inherited from both her remarkable parents.
Watching her coordinate the younger ones with gentle authority makes my heart swell with love for this extraordinary little dragoness, who carries so much of Mina’s grace and wisdom.
“Father...” Allister calls out as he approaches Klauth with the imperious tone that never fails to set my teeth on edge.
“Yes?” Klauth already looks thoroughly exasperated with his son, and I don’t blame him one bit.
“Raven stole the toy I chose. She needs to return it now,” Allister declares with the entitled arrogance that makes my protective instincts flare to life. He puts his small fists on his hips and lifts his chin defiantly at his father, every line of his young body radiating privileged indignation.
Raven, having heard her name mentioned, walks over slowly with the measured dignity of someone far older than her years.
She shakes her head calmly while looking from Allister to Klauth, her sapphire eyes blazing with controlled fire.
“Dads...” she says with respectful calm, addressing both Klauth and me.
“Most of the older hatchlings agreed to allow the newest members to have first choice since they are not as big and strong as we are.”
She lowers her head respectfully and spreads her magnificent wings wide as she performs a perfect bow—a gesture of deference that makes my throat tight with emotion. When she straightens and turns her piercing gaze on her half-brother, her expression turns absolutely icy with barely contained fury.
“Someone thinks that because of his birthright, the agreement doesn’t apply to him,” she states with the quiet authority that could freeze blood in your veins.
“My father is a wyrm dragon and king. I should have first choice,” Alister responds with a venomous hiss that makes my hands clench into fists at my sides.
“You forget, soft one, my father is also a wyrm dragon,” Raven replies with devastating calm, her voice carrying undertones of barely leashed power.
“Unlike you, my scales are hard like my parents.” The claws at the apex of her wings click rhythmically, a clear sign of her growing agitation that makes every protective instinct in my body roar to life.
Thauglor approaches just as the tension reaches its peak, his ancient eyes immediately assessing the situation with the wisdom of millennia.
He takes in his daughter’s agitated state and the source of her distress with a single glance.
“Come with me, Raven. The little ones are looking for you,” he says with gentle authority, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders and guiding her away from the confrontation.
Before they’ve taken more than a few steps, Raven suddenly turns and spits a precise glob of acid at Allister’s feet.
The caustic substance hisses violently when it hits the ground, sending up wisps of acrid smoke that make the arrogant little dragon leap backward in shock and fear.
The message is crystal clear—she could have hit him directly if she’d chosen to, and everyone present knows it.
Klauth immediately takes Allister by the arm and walks off with him, his ancient face set in grim lines that suggest someone is about to receive a very stern talking-to indeed.
I have a sinking feeling that even the most severe punishment won’t adjust that boy’s entitled attitude—he seems to have inherited the absolute worst traits from both red and green dragon lineages.
I rejoin the others, watching with warm satisfaction as the older children help their younger siblings with patient kindness.
Raven and Lily have naturally taken it upon themselves to watch over the three newest additions to our nest, their protective instincts already fully developed despite their youth.
Mina returns from her flight holding Abraxis’s arm, his wing draped protectively over her shoulders in a gesture that speaks to their deep bond. “Klauth told me what happened,” she says, her melodious voice heavy with sadness that makes my heart ache. “I’m glad Raven stood up for the little ones.”