Chapter 28
Three days. Three days had passed, and I still felt like I was moving through someone else's life. A better life. One I hadn't believed I'd ever deserve.
Every night, I lay beside Inga, listening to her steady breathing, her soft sighs, the way she curled into me as though she'd been made to fit under my arm. And every night, she welcomed me with a trust so fierce it humbled me down to my bones.
She wanted me. Me. Not the uniform. Not the pilot. Not the hero she thought she saw in that alley. Me, man and dragon both.
I still couldn't believe she'd offered herself so tenderly, so willingly. And that she continued to do so, each night sweeter, braver, more open than the last. She accepted the dragon without hesitation, asking questions with wide, curious eyes instead of fear.
"Does it hurt you to change?"
"No."
"Can you fly in storms?"
"Sometimes."
"Are there more like you?"
"Yes. Back home."
Montana. I told her about Montana. About the wide skies and golden plains.
About my family's ranch nestled against the shadow of the mountains. About the old stories passed down through generations, how our ancestors had come from the Celtic Isles centuries ago, bringing the dragon magic with them across the ocean, settling in the frontier where open sky meant freedom.
"Dragons like high places," I'd said, brushing her hair back as she listened. "My people found mountains that felt like home. And we've been there ever since."
She had absorbed every word.
"And they know?" she whispered. "Your town… knows?"
"They do," I said. "Not all the details, but enough. We don't hide from our own."
Her eyes had gone soft and glowing.
"Do you think… I could be happy there?"
"Yes, sweetheart," I'd said, kissing her forehead. "I think you were meant to be there."
And now—God help me—patience was becoming an impossible virtue.
We weren't using protection. Every night, her warmth and trust wrapped around me like a promise.
If she got pregnant now, before the papers cleared, we'd be in for scrutiny, and I refused to let anyone question our marriage. Our family. Our future.
I needed that marriage sealed. Now.
I arrived at Tempelhof feeling higher than the sky I flew. But the mood shifted the moment I stepped into the hangar.
"Captain Griffin," called a mechanic, jerking his head toward the admin building. "CO wants you. Now."
Not good. I followed the hallway to Colonel Jamison's office. He looked worn; his usually straight tie was loosened, his sleeves rolled up, the weight of the whole damn airlift sagging around him.
"Come in, son," he said. "Close the door."
I did.
He didn't waste time. "We've had complaints."
My jaw tightened. "From who?"
"OPC," he said, rubbing his eyes. "That intelligence man you've tangled with."
My breath sharpened with heat.
"Claims of ration misallocation. Unauthorized movement outside of mission hours. Reckless flying. Undocumented behavior off-base."
All lies. Every one of them. Jamison leaned back.
"Look, son… I don't buy any of it. But I can't ignore it. Not when it's official. I've got no choice but to open a formal investigation."
Rage pulsed inside me, not the hot, explosive kind, but the deep, coiled kind that made the dragon roll forward under my skin. Jamison held up a hand.
"Whatever you've gotten yourself mixed up in, it's ugly. OPC sharks have teeth. And if they think you're a liability…"
He didn't finish. I already knew. They'd keep coming. After me. After Inga. After the kids.
Unless I cut them off at the knees.
I inhaled slowly. I could threaten the Spook again with my father's connections, but a better idea was forming in my head.
"What if I resign?" I asked.
Jamison blinked. Then sagged back into his chair in relief.
"That," he said, "would make this disappear."
"Honorable discharge?"
"Yes."
A slow, wild grin tugged at my mouth.
He frowned. "You okay, Griffin?"
"I'm more than okay, sir."
Because suddenly everything fell into place: No more Berlin. No more OPC shadows. No more suffocating bureaucracy.
Just freedom.
Montana.
The ranch.
My family.
My people.
Inga.
Klaus.
Axel.
Hilde.
All of us—home.
A wedding under open sky.
The kids running across grass instead of rubble. Inga breathing fresh mountain air instead of ash. And me—finally—free to shift whenever I wanted.
"Yes, sir," I said. "I'll submit my resignation today."
Jamison nodded slowly. "Good man. Let me know if you need anything."
I left the office practically weightless. I'd barely stepped into the hallway before I found the OPC man leaning against the wall like a smug shadow.
"So?" he said, crossing his arms. "You gonna play ball now, Captain?"
I didn't respond.
He smirked. "That's what I thought. You people only understand leverage. Lucky for—"
I punched him in the stomach so hard he folded like a cheap map. He gasped, collapsing to his knees. Before he could recover, I grabbed his collar and slammed him against the wall.
"You listen to me," I said quietly, voice shaking with restrained fire. "You stay away from me. From Inga. From my kids. This is your final warning."
He tried to speak. I hit him again, not enough to break anything, but enough to make the point.
"You think I won't go darker?" I growled, letting heat bleed out between my teeth, letting steam curl from my nostrils in two slow, deliberate streams.
He paled, turning chalk-white when I allowed him a glimpse of my dragon self.
"You're finished here," I said. "I'm done with you. So stay the hell away."
I released him and let him slide to the floor, wheezing. I didn't look back. The future was waiting. And nothing—nothing—was going to take Inga or the kids from me now.
By the time I finished paperwork with Jamison and handed over the first draft of my resignation, my whole damn body buzzed like someone had plugged me into a generator.
I practically ran back to the hotel.
The second I opened the suite door, three tiny bodies slammed into me.
"Kapit?n Gideon!" Klaus shouted, arms locking around my waist.
"You're back!" Axel squeaked.
Hilde just threw herself at my leg like a little koala.
And then I saw Inga.
Standing near the window in a soft dress the seamstress had fitted that morning, hair loose around her shoulders, eyes bright in a way I'd never seen.
God, she stole my breath every time. She smiled when she saw me—really smiled—and I felt like the world clicked into place.
"You're home," she said softly.
"Yeah," I answered, tugging her into my arms with one hand while holding the kids with the other. "And I've got news."
Her brows lifted. "Bad?"
"No," I said. "Good. The best."
We sat on the velvet sofa, me in the middle, kids crawling all over me, Inga curling into my side. I took a breath. "I resigned."
Inga blinked. "You… what?"
"Honorable discharge," I said. "I'm done. No more Berlin. No more airlift. No more OPC breathing down my neck."
Inga just stared at me like she wasn't sure she'd heard correctly.
"So… what does that mean for us?" she whispered.
I smiled slowly.
"It means," I said, "we're going home."
"Home?" Klaus asked, bright-eyed.
"Montana," I said. "We're going to the ranch. Fresh air. Space to run. Clean water. Real food. And a family waiting to meet you. And the best part?" I winked at the kids, "Have you ever ridden a horse?"
Inga's lips parted. "Gideon…"
"And," I added, turning to her fully, "we're going to surprise my parents. We'll have the wedding under the Montana sky. The way it should be."
She covered her mouth; her eyes flooded immediately.
"Oh," she whispered. "Oh, Gideon…"
The kids started cheering, shrieking, and bouncing on cushions.
"RANCH!"
"COWS!"
"HORSES!"
"FLYING WITH GIDEON!" Klaus cried.
I laughed so hard my ribs hurt. God, it felt good.
"Before we leave," I said, wiping my eyes, "we need supplies.
Warm coats. Mountain boots. Travel trunks.
You'll need gear for cold nights, for hiking.
The kids'll need heavier clothes—Montana winters aren't kind.
And you—" I tilted Inga's chin and kissed her forehead. "You're gonna need a wedding dress."
Her breath broke.
"I… I've never…" She shook her head, overwhelmed. "You're sure?"
"I've never been more sure of anything," I said.
She threw her arms around me, and I held her tight, feeling her whole world trembling with relief and hope.
We were halfway through planning what to buy when a knock sounded on the door.
Sharp. Cold. Wrong.
I felt the dragon stir before I even turned. I opened the door just enough to see him: A Soviet messenger in civilian clothing, his posture as stiff as could be expected, his eyes cold and flat, like there was not a single thought in there that was his own. He extended a sealed envelope.
"Captain Griffin," he said. "I am here at the request of Herrn Weber. He demands the immediate return of his son, Klaus Weber, into Soviet custody."
Inga froze behind me. Klaus whimpered and hid behind her skirt. Axel moved in front of Hilde instinctively.
I took the envelope and opened it. I only read the first line,
Return the boy.
Then I laughed.
Actually laughed.
The messenger blinked. "This is not—"
I held the paper up between two fingers.
"When you go back to whatever hole you crawled out of," I said calmly, "you can tell Gerhard Weber…"
I flicked my fingers. Heat surged. The dragon's breath curled up my arm like a secret flame. The paper erupted into ash.
"…that Klaus is mine now," I finished. "My son."
The messenger recoiled. "You—you cannot—"
The kids let out a loud Oh!
I shoved the pile of ashes into his chest hard enough to make him stumble backward. "Tell him he gets one chance to leave us alone." I stepped forward, eyes going molten gold. "One. Chance."
The messenger backed down the hall; he was shaking from head to toe, and his entire visible skin turned white as chalk.
"And if he tries again?" I added, letting steam curl from my nostrils. "I burn," I said, "everything he stands on."
The man fled. Inga sagged against the wall, trembling. I turned back to her immediately, gathering her into my arms.
"It's over," I murmured into her hair. "We're leaving. He'll never touch you again. Or Klaus. Or any of them."
She nodded into my chest, gripping me like I was the only solid thing in her world. Klaus came and pressed his cheek against my side. Axel hugged my leg. Hilde reached up with both hands.
I wrapped them all in my arms. I had a family now. And no one on this earth—Russian, American, dragon, or human—was going to take them from me.