Her face was pure focus. A quiet girl who'd figured out her power and wasn't scared to play.
Huey had planted himself right beside her, apricot fur glowing in the sun, eyes closed, but he wasn't asleep. Every couple of seconds, his nostrils twitched, tracking the air for trouble. Nature's security system, set to "leaves are the enemy, scare them away."
Closer to me, perched in a square of light above the sink, Lola glowered at us all. She basked in the sunbeam, chin high, tail flicking. The princess of the apocalypse. If anyone was going to outlive the rest of us, it would be that cat.
I took a second just to watch it all. The girls, thedog, the cat, this house. Chance's world, now mine too. The air was thick with scents, especially the scent of what had to be fresh bread. Even from here, I could track every ingredient, rich egg, the sharp tang of yeast, and this undercurrent of honey that caught right at the back of my tongue.
On the counter to my right, my tablet glowed with a headline from The Daily Times.
SkyArc Construction. Permit, DENIED.
I grinned wide. I couldn't help it. The bastards had tried, and failed, and now the evidence was sitting here like a trophy.
Practicing, I pressed my fingers to the edge of the wood, dragging them along the grain. My senses, dragon sharp, now, every cell on high alert, caught things I would've missed before.
The bread in the oven? Not just bread. I could pick out the play between flour and salt, the smoky sweetness in the crust where the heat ran just a little too high. Even the butter in the dough had a signature. Bright and grassy, like late-summer fields.
Beyond the glass, grey clouds massed on the horizon. I tracked them, looking forward to flying amongthem.
Mere's magic looked different, too. I saw it in the heat blooming around her hands. A glow invisible to the naked eye, but to me, it radiated orange and then blue, like the heart of a kiln. When she twisted her fingers, the temperature climbed, the shimmer growing so clear it seemed to dance over the patio stones. Even through the window, I could taste ozone, the hair-raising tang that always came with her best spells.
Livia stood at the far end of the kitchen. She pretended to read, but I knew that trick. My girls had used it for years. In reality, her gaze kept skipping to the window, even when she thought nobody was watching.
The first time I'd met Livia, she'd been all angles and concealed mercy. Her cheekbones could've cut steel, and every word came out like a command. Not now.
Now, the lines at her eyes softened each time she glanced at Mere. A smile, unguarded, not the brittle thing she used in public, flashed and faded, as if she couldn't help herself. When she watched Fifi land, her mouth twisted up, proud and, for just a second, almost shy.
She loved these kids.
It was weird as hell to have something in common with her. And perfect.
I kept rolling the sensory feed in my head, cataloguing everything. The tablet's faint hum, the bread perfume spiking with every oven timer beep, the breeze on the grass outside, broken only by the occasional thump of dragon wings or Mere's quiet laughter when she nailed a new spell.
My body ran hot, even in the stillness. That was Taryn's fault. She'd cranked up my core temp to the point where the thought of summer made me nervous. The power was addictive, sometimes terrifying. My skin hummed with it, a living generator.
I traced the edge of the window, nails tapping. The world looked alien, sort of, but also sharper than it ever had before.
Fifi lined up for another launch. This time, she took her angle from the side, wings tucked until the last moment. She shot up, spiral-banked, then hovered, dead steady, mid-air, before arrowing back toward the ground.
She stuck the landing. Not even a skid. Just perfect, all the way.
Mere cheered from her circle, waving both hands. The spell-fire burst into blue, thenfaded.
Huey opened one lazy eye and exhaled, convinced nothing out there could possibly threaten his girls.
The way Fifi and Mere had changed, just in the last month, nearly split my heart. They were at peace. Even their bodies looked different. They were taller, stronger, posture set like they owned the mountain.
They’d both started their periods, finally. Puberty had come at last.
It was. Not. fun.
If you'd asked me a year ago if I'd ever belong somewhere, this would not have been the answer. But here we were. Even Lola seemed to approve, blinking in her patch of sun, then tucking her paws in and going to sleep.
Another timer beeped. The bread would be done in five, maybe six minutes. My nose told me it was exactly right. Still a touch pale on top, but the crust below had started to caramelize, just enough to crackle. The yeast in the dough buzzed so strong I could almost taste the air turning sweet. No wonder the dragon bakery did so well. They could tell when every item was baked to perfection. Cheaters.
I leaned against the counter, hugging myself tight. The paperwork, the bread, the view out the window, all of it was proof the hell of the last few weeks was finallybehind us.
But peace was not what I expected. Not this much of it, not all at once.
