Seven
T– all hands on deck…
I decide to start with the most logical place first: Thauglor’s office. He’s the lynchpin that will make the entire operation run smoothly, and I need his immediate cooperation to ensure our carefully orchestrated operation doesn’t fall apart at the crucial moment.
I phase directly into his private domain, materializing in the center of his impressively appointed office with the sudden appearance that startles even ancient dragons. The space reflects his centuries of accumulated power—mahogany furniture that gleams with age and care, walls lined with leather-bound tomes that contain knowledge spanning millennia, and windows that overlook the academy grounds he’s helped build into something magnificent.
Thauglor nearly falls backward out of his massive chair from the shock of my unexpected arrival, his usually composed demeanor cracking for just a moment as he processes my sudden presence in his supposedly secure space.
“What in the living hell, Zig!” he exclaims as he straightens up and attempts to regain his dignified composure, though I can see the rapid pulse at his throat that betrays his startled state.
“It’s go time,” I announce simply, resting my hands on the polished surface of his desk and watching with fascination as his face morphs through several distinct expressions—surprise giving way to understanding, followed immediately by intense arousal and possessive hunger.
A deep, resonant rumble escapes his lips as his eyes shift dramatically to those of his dragon form. The transformation is striking: sapphire blue irises with blackened vertical slits that speak to predatory instincts rising to the surface. I can practically feel the waves of desire radiating from him as his dragon half drives him toward our shared mate with increasing urgency.
“Please tell me she’s somewhere that Klauth and I can’t reach her and accidentally throw the entire operation off course,” he says with the strained control that suggests he’s fighting every instinct screaming at him to abandon his post and seek Mina immediately.
“I already thought of that potential complication, and yes, she’s positioned where neither of you can access her until the appropriate time,” I reply with a tilted head and satisfied smile. “Mina thought of absolutely everything when she planned this romantic ambush.”
“Excellent strategic planning,” he agrees, adjusting his silk tie with hands that aren’t quite steady as he draws several deep breaths to settle his increasingly agitated drake. The internal struggle between his administrative responsibilities and hismating instincts is clearly visible in the tension of his shoulders. “What do you need me to do?”
“As I collect the others, we’ll need their classes covered seamlessly,” I explain, pulling out my well-worn notebook and glancing at the ornate clock on his desk before consulting my detailed observations. “I’ll send you text messages showing who I’ve taken so you can arrange substitutions.”
The logistics are crucial—we can’t have students left unattended or suspicious gaps in the academy schedule that might draw unwanted attention to our activities.
Callan and Vaughn would be the easiest targets to transport to Mina based on their current locations and scheduled activities. Both are in positions where their temporary absence could be explained without raising alarm.
“Do you think she’ll take all of them before the school day ends?” Thauglor asks, glancing at the wall clock with the calculating expression that means he’s already running through contingency plans. The school day is approximately half over, which gives us a limited window of opportunity.
“No, probably two at the most for today,” I reply after consulting my notes again. “Definitely one, then we’ll see how her energy and desires develop from there.”
“Two of your targets are prey animals by nature,” he reminds me with the gravity of someone pointing out a potentially catastrophic oversight.
That observation sends a cold pit of fear rising in my stomach as I contemplate the actual dangers involved. When dragons enter their fertile periods, their predatory instincts can overwhelmtheir rational minds, creating genuine risks for mates whose natural forms trigger hunting responses.
“I’m already prepared to remain in the chamber as protection, or if necessary, to put Mina in the specially designed leather restraints I created for exactly this scenario,” I explain, pulling up a particularly provocative image on my phone.
The photograph shows our mate bound in the custom restraints I crafted with both safety and aesthetics in mind. Her arms are secured behind her back, forearm resting against forearm in a position that’s both restrictive and elegant, kneeling with her back to the camera in a pose that radiates both submission and contained power.
I show the image to Thauglor, and his reaction is immediate and dramatic. His coffee mug slips from suddenly nerveless fingers, shattering against the floor in an explosion of ceramic and dark liquid as he lunges forward to grab my phone with desperate intensity.
“I would very much like to borrow these restraints for private use after everything is concluded,” he says with an arched eyebrow and a voice gone rough with desire. I swear I can actually hear the gears turning in his brilliant mind as he contemplates the possibilities.
“Done,” I agree readily, taking my phone back and heading toward his office door with renewed purpose. “I’m going hunting now. Wish me luck.”
I throw him a confident wink before phasing out of his office and into the unknown, ready to collect unsuspecting mates for Mina’s romantic surprise.
Balor once showedme one of those human movies about a shark that relentlessly hunted a family. The ominous theme song echoes in my mind as I lurk in the shadows, watching my carefully selected target with predatory focus.
The familiar melody builds tension in my thoughts:duunnn dunnn... duuuunnnn duun... duuunnnnnnnn dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dun dunnnnnnnnnnn dunnnn.
Lurking unseen in shadows is precisely what my species was designed for. My sleek black fur absorbs light like a living void as I move silently on four powerful paws through the darkened corners of the campus. Every muscle in my feline form is coiled with potential energy, ready to spring into action at the perfect moment.
The air itself seems to hold its breath. Even the wind has stilled, as if the entire world senses that something is about to happen. Something inevitable. Something that cannot be stopped once it begins.
I know exactly who I’m targeting, and I understand that speed will be absolutely crucial when the opportunity presents itself. There will be no room for hesitation or second chances—this has to be executed with surgical precision.
The cinematic music in my head speeds up its tempo as I observe him finishing his lesson with characteristic patience and skill.The afternoon light filters through the stable windows, creating a patchwork of brightness and shadow that provides perfect camouflage for a displacer beast on the hunt.
