“Thank God,” Rhonan laughs as he’s engulfed by the pack. His deep voice carries over the commotion. “When we got word about the contamination crisis—“
“You should have seen him,” Serena cuts in, accepting hugs from all sides. “He nearly stole a portal key to get back faster.”
I make my way through the crowd, clapping Rhonan firmly on the shoulder. “Welcome home. Crisis handled, everyone healthy. Just another week at Ash Hollow!”
“Vrek,“ Rhonan curses in Drakorian, squeezing my shoulder. “You all look ... remarkably well for a pack that was half-dead a week ago.”
Pride swells in my chest. “We’re resilient bastards.”
My eyes find Lyanna across the room, accepting Serena’s warm embrace. Something tightens in my chest at the sight of her—composed, graceful, subtly glowing with quiet power.
“How was the diplomatic mission?” I ask, refocusing on Rhonan.
His amber eyes flash with satisfaction. “Successful beyond expectations. The dragon court actually listened. My parents—“ He stops as Nova approaches.
“So, they accepted Serena?” she asks directly.
Rhonan’s face breaks into a rare, unreserved smile. “Completely. They want to meet the whole pack someday. Things are changing, even in Drakoria.”
Serena joins us, her pale blue eyes bright with excitement. “King Niko actually said our bond strengthens both realms. Can you believe it?”
The celebration flows around us, food and drinks passed freely, stories exchanged in excited bursts. I step back, savoring the moment—our pack whole again, stronger for what we’ve overcome together.
After the initial chaos settles, Rhonan catches my eye across the room. He tilts his head slightly toward the hallway—a silent request.
I nod and signal Dane. Within minutes, the leadership team filters into the side room while the celebration continues in the main hall.
We settle around the oak table—Dane, Nova, Ben, Kari, Lyanna across from me. Rhonan and Serena take the remaining seats.
“Tell us everything,” Dane says.
Rhonan nods, amber eyes glinting with satisfaction. “Better than expected. My parents not only recognized our bond but presented us formally at court.” He pauses. “King Niko and Queen Saige—they’re traditional in many ways, but they understood what Serena and I represent. The angelic bloodline connection helped.”
“The political implications are substantial,” Serena adds, leaning forward. “It’s not the cross-species aspect that’s controversial—it’s the circumstances. A mating that can’t be used for political leverage is exactly what the courts don’t want to see right now.”
“What about the trade agreements?” Dane asks. “You mentioned your brothers were working that angle.”
“Jarvald and Evren have made real progress,” Rhonan says. “Cultural exchange pathways are opening. They’re even discussing scholar exchanges—sharing knowledge that’s been isolated for generations. Information flows both ways now, which is crucial for packs like ours operating on Earth.”
Nova’s eyes narrow slightly. “And the intelligence on realm politics?”
Rhonan’s expression darkens. “That’s where things get complicated. There’s growing tension across realms regarding marriage alliances.”
“How does that affect us?” I press. “We’re Earth-side, outside their jurisdiction.”
“Geography doesn’t mean isolation,” Serena explains. “The traditional marriage systems have been the backbone of supernatural diplomacy for centuries, but progressive factions are challenging these arrangements. When courts enforce these contracts, the ripple effects reach everywhere—including Earth packs that interact with realm-born supernaturals.”
Lyanna’s fingers tense against the table edge. She maintains her composed expression, but I recognize the subtle signs of her discomfort.
“There’s particular friction in Doria,” Rhonan continues. “The fae courts are enforcing marriage contracts more aggressively as resistance grows. They view it as essential to maintaining political stability.”
“The Drakorian-Doria situation is the most volatile,” Serena adds quietly. “There’s a standing marriage alliance meant to prevent open conflict between the dragon and fae realms. If that falls apart...” She shakes her head. “Dragon-fae wars don’t stay contained. The last one, three centuries ago, pulled in allied realms on both sides. Casualty projections for a modern conflict run into the tens of thousands before either side would consider backing down.”
Lyanna’s face has gone pale, though her expression remains composed.
“Any direct threats to our pack?” Dane asks.
Rhonan meets his gaze directly. “Nothing specific yet. Being Earth-side gives you natural insulation from most realm politics. But information sharing is critical—we need to know what’s happening in the courts so we can anticipate problems before they cross realms.”
