We watch until our family disappears from view, then I grab Mina’s arm and phase us instantly across the continent to the secluded beach she loves. The transition is seamless, reality bending around us as we slip through space itself until we’re standing on warm sand with the ocean stretching endlessly before us.
“The patterns are solid,” I report, letting my professional focus slip back into place. “To time everything exactly as you want, you’ll need to go into season on or around October twentieth. That will give you hatchlings ready for the first night of the winter solstice—perfect timing for your surprise.”
Mina paces along the shoreline, her silhouette graceful against the backdrop of rolling waves. The ocean breeze plays with her hair, and I find myself momentarily distracted by how beautiful she looks in this moment of contemplation. “That gives me exactly two weeks to get everything arranged,” she muses, glancing over her shoulder at me with eyes that sparkle with mischief and determination.
“The snatch-and-grab approach seems like the most efficient way to accomplish your goals,” I suggest, tilting my head thoughtfully. “The inner cavern where you have us retreat during dangerous situations appears to dampen our mate bonds temporarily. I’d recommend taking care of your romantic ambush there, then having me transport our ‘victims’ somewhere more comfortable for them to recover.”
I arch an eyebrow as I watch the gears turning in my mate’s brilliant mind, her eyes cycling between their humanappearance and the deeper, more primal dragon gaze that never fails to steal my breath.
“Solid plan,” she agrees, closing the distance between us with predatory grace. “Who do you think we should snatch first for our little romantic conspiracy?” She nuzzles my cheek while purring in that way that makes my knees weak and my heart race.
“Hmm... lets wait until the day arrives,” I suggest cryptically, allowing the eerie green glow to fade from my eyes as I meet her gaze. “That way, everyone gets a genuine surprise when you reveal your plans for expanding our family.”
Mina stares into my now-normal eyes, then shifts hers to display her full dragon nature—a sight that never fails to remind me how incredibly fortunate I am. My mate possesses the biggest, most generous heart of any female I’ve ever encountered, dragon or otherwise. The fact she chose me, out of all the powerful beings who would gladly claim her, still amazes me every single day.
I am the luckiest displacer beast in existence.
Chapter
Two
T– 7 Days
We have exactly one week before Mina puts Operation Last Clutch into motion, and the anticipation coursing through my veins is almost intoxicating. The countdown has officially begun, each day bringing us closer to expanding our family in the most romantic way possible. Right now, I’m stalking future daddy number two with the focused intensity of a predator on the hunt, cataloging every detail of his schedule for today with meticulous precision.
Callan moves through the campus with that efficient stride I’ve come to associate with him—purposeful, organized, completely unaware that a certain displacer beast is documenting his every move. My midnight-black hair catches the afternoon shadows as I carefully phase into the deepest recesses of darkness near the administrative building, my form becoming one with the gloom itself.
I remain perfectly motionless in my shadowy sanctuary, watching as Callan approaches the imposing entrance to Thauglor’s office. The ancient dragon’s domain radiates powereven from the outside—massive oak doors reinforced with metal that gleams with subtle enchantments, and windows that seem to look back at anyone who dares to peer through them.
“Everything ready for winter break?” Thauglor’s voice rumbles through the space like distant thunder as he looks up from the enormous calendar sprawled across his mahogany blotter. Even seated behind his desk, the ancient black dragon commands the room with an authority that’s been earned over millennia of existence.
“Everything’s settled,” Callan responds with characteristic efficiency, his voice carrying that calm professionalism that makes him such an asset to the academy. He lays a small leather-bound journal on the polished surface of the desk with practiced care, the gesture speaking to countless similar meetings.
“Do we have all the courses lined up for our return in the new year?” Thauglor inquires, tilting his head to the side in that distinctly dragonic manner. The movement causes his obsidian scales to catch the light filtering through the office windows, creating an almost hypnotic display. I swear that ancient bastard can sense disturbances in the surrounding air—something about the way his nostrils flare ever so slightly makes my kitty instincts prickle with unease.
“Just waiting on Abraxis’s updated warfare planning curriculum,” Callan explains with patience, flipping open his journal to reveal pages covered in neat, precise handwriting. He finds a dog-eared page and studies it carefully. “He wants to restructure it to stretch from January all the way through to when classes end, instead of breaking it into two separate sessions. I mean, it makes perfect sense from an educational continuity standpoint, but he’ll need to design a comprehensive midterm examination for it.”
“What about the stealth classes and spy craft courses?” Thauglor asks about my specialized curriculum, and I feel a surge of pride knowing that I gave Callan everything he could possibly need. My classes might be unconventional, but they’re thorough and meticulously planned.
“Two midterms—one per session—and then a separate advanced project for those students who are ahead of the learning curve,” Callan replies, flipping to another section of his impeccably organized journal. Every page seems to have its place, every detail accounted for with the precision that would make Mina purr with appreciation.
“Excellent,” Thauglor nods approvingly, his massive form radiating satisfaction. “If you’ll leave the journal with me, I’ll return it to you before the end of the day.” The request comes with one of his rare smiles, but something in the dragon’s tone makes my kitty senses tingle with warning signals.
Shit.He’s deliberately getting rid of Callan, and that usually means he’s detected something—or someone—that requires his immediate attention.
“Sounds good. I’ll see you later,” Callan agrees readily, gathering his materials with the same methodical care he applies to everything else. He heads toward the door with that purposeful stride, completely oblivious to what’s about to unfold behind him.
The moment Callan’s footsteps fade down the corridor, before I even have the chance to phase deeper into the shadows or make my strategic retreat, Thauglor’s massive hand shoots out with lightning-fast. His fingers wrap around my throat as he literally rips me from my shadowy hiding place, dragging me into the full light of his office with embarrassing ease.
“Why are you stalking your bond brothers?” His voice carries the weight of ancient authority, each word carefully measured and loaded with power. His grip tightens just enough to make his point crystal clear without actually causing damage. “You’ve been doing it all week, Ziggy.”
Thauglor releases me with a gesture that’s almost casual, and I immediately double over, coughing several times as I try to regain both my composure and my dignity. My throat burns with the phantom pressure of his fingers, and I can feel my cheeks flushing with the embarrassment of being caught.
“Mina asked me to get their schedules for her,” I rasp out between coughs, hoping desperately that telling him most of the truth will satisfy his curiosity and keep me in his good graces.
“Why?” The single word carries the force of a command as he tilts his head again and flares his impressive black wings. The membrane stretches wide, casting dramatic shadows across the office walls and making him look even more imposing than usual. Just what I need—a seriously irritated ancient black dragon questioning my motives while I’m still recovering from being manhandled.
I glance around nervously, suddenly very aware of how exposed I am in the middle of his office. Moving with as much dignity as I can muster, I approach his office door and turn the heavy lock with a decisive click. If we’re going to have this conversation, privacy seems absolutely essential.
