Chapter
One
Phasingfrom place to place is an absolute blast, especially with the delicious secrets I’m keeping tucked away like precious gems. The familiar tingle of displacement magic courses through my veins as I shimmer between dimensions. My displacer beast nature allows me to slip through reality like smoke through fingers. It has been a solid five years since the last clutch was born to our nest, and my brilliant Mina has plans—oh, does she have plans.
I move from place to place like a ghost on the wind, my midnight-black hair catching occasional glimpses of sunlight as I phase in and out of visibility. My eerie green eyes, normally glowing with that otherworldly light that marks me as something beyond human, carefully log the patterns of each of our mates in the nest. Every detail matters when Mina sets her mind to something.
Everything must be perfect.
I catch up with Mina and Balor in the sprawling gardens, where roses bloom in impossible colors and the air shimmers withresidual magic. With a mischievous grin spreading across my face, I phase into view directly behind them. “Boo!”
Balor jumps almost five feet into the air, his basilisk reflexes betrayed by my stealthy approach, while Mina just smirks with that knowing look that makes my heart skip beats. Her eyes dance with amusement, and I can practically see her filing away my successful ambush for future reference.
“How’s my Ziggy?” she purrs, her voice like honey and silk combined. She closes the distance between us with a fluid grace that never fails to mesmerize me. I slip the carefully folded note containing the information she requested into her front pocket, my fingers brushing against the warmth of her body through the fabric.
“Purrrfect, now that my Mina is holding me,” I respond, unable to keep the contentment from my voice. We rub our cheeks together in an affectionate gesture that sends warmth spreading through my chest, while Balor—my oldest and dearest friend—stares at us with growing suspicion.
His finger moves between Mina and me, pointing accusingly. “You two are up to something. I can feel it in my scales.” He arches a perfectly sculpted eyebrow that peeks over the top of his designer sunglasses, his basilisk senses clearly picking up on the conspiracy brewing between us.
“Continent domination...” Mina says with practiced calm, her smile innocent as freshly fallen snow as she regards Balor with twinkling eyes.
“You’ve already done that,” he smirks, sliding his shades down his nose to fix us with his penetrating gaze. The sunlight catchesthe subtle iridescent quality of his skin that hints at his true nature.
“I didn’t say which continent,” Mina winks, and we turn in perfect synchronization to head toward the flight field. Her hand finds mine, fingers interlacing as naturally as breathing.
“Why are we heading to the flight field?” For once, I actually have no clue where my mate’s brilliant mind is leading us, and the mystery adds an extra spring to my step.
“Thauglor and Abraxis are returning with the girls,” Mina explains, her voice taking on that maternal warmth she reserves for talk of our extended family. She scans the horizon with those sharp eyes that miss nothing.
“All three, or just the two black dragon hatchlings?” Balor asks, his own paternal instincts kicking in as he joins her sky-watching vigil.
“All three. I had to practically roar at those two boneheads that it’s not just the ‘black dragon club’ between the four of them,” Mina grumbles, though affection colors her frustration. Truth be told, she and Thorne are attached at the hip most of the time—a bond so strong it sometimes makes the rest of us marvel. Meanwhile, Orpheus, Raven, and Lily usually form their own little clutch, self-isolating from the others unless my daughters decide they want to join the fun.
Thauglor’s massive drake form dominates the airspace like a living mountain, his scales catching the afternoon light in brilliant flashes. Three little dragons maintain formation above him—from this distance, I can’t distinguish individual features, but judging by size, it looks like Thorne has claimed the primespot over Thauglor’s broad back while the two black dragon hatchlings hover protectively over his wings.
“Looks like Brax got tired,” I observe, noting the slight lag in formation.
Mina sighs, a sound heavy with understanding and concern. Abraxis has never been quite the same since he was shot out of the sky during that terrible incident we don’t speak of. He can fly, thankfully—the healers worked miracles—but not with the endurance or distance he once commanded. It’s why Thauglor accompanies him when he takes Lily flying, using the excuse of wanting to supervise the hatchlings to give his friend a dignified way to accept help. The sight always tugs at my heart; I feel genuinely sorry for my friend, who once soared higher and farther than anyone.
As they approach overhead, Abraxis glides down with practiced grace, positioning himself to watch and guide the hatchlings’ landings. His protective instincts haven’t dimmed one bit, even if his wings can’t carry him as far as before.
Thorne is the first to attempt her landing. She wobbles when she’s about three feet off the ground. That moment of uncertainty that every parent recognizes—then touches down and immediately begins prancing over to Mina with obvious pride radiating from every step. We cheer and congratulate Thorne on her successful landing, our voices creating a chorus of encouragement that makes her beam.
Next comes Lily’s turn. She wobbles as she approaches the ground, sending Abraxis into an immediate panic. His protective instincts flare as he positions himself to catch her if needed, though he forces himself to let her find her own balance. Minashakes her head with fond exasperation as she turns her gaze skyward to watch Thauglor and Raven.
The massive dragon shifts halfway through his descent, adjusting his size and speed to match Raven’s smaller form and glide alongside her. When she reaches about ten feet from the ground, she shifts with natural instinct and spreads her wings wide, using them to glide the remaining distance in a move that’s both graceful and confident. Her feet barely kiss the earth before Thauglor scoops her up in his arms, hugging her close while purring like the world’s largest, most contented cat.
“Did I have hatchlings, or did I merely give birth to mini versions of ourselves?” Mina chuckles as she scoops up Thorne, who snuggles against her with complete trust and adoration.
“We’re not that bad with our kids,” Balor protests mildly, though his actions immediately contradict his words as he checks his phone. I can see the live feed from the playground where Orpheus and my girls are engaged in some elaborate game that involves a lot of running and laughter.
“Says the male who cyber-stalks our offspring while they play with other hatchlings,” I tease, bumping shoulders with one of my oldest and most treasured friends.
“But at least we let them play with the other kids instead of hovering constantly,” Balor points out with an arched eyebrow, and we both dissolve into laughter that echoes across the field.
After a few more minutes of family bonding, Mina sends Thorne back toward the nest with Abraxis, Thauglor, and the other girls. “Take a walk with me, Ziggy,” she says, her voice dropping to that intimate tone that never fails to send shivers down my spine.
Balor gives me a knowing slap on the shoulder—the gesture that speaks of decades of friendship—before following the others back toward home.
