Beck Manor rose out of the woods with the kind of self-importance most houses could only dream of. The drive was long, lined with chestnut trees that dropped spiky brown pods in spring, and the windows were always gleaming, as if the sun couldn’t bear to leave them alone. I parked next to Ashton’s truck, killed the engine, and sat a minute with the engine cooling, trying to settle my nerves.
Aurelia had left the front door cracked. She knew all of us too well. This was damn hard. I took a few deep breaths, countedto ten, then took off my helmet and walked up, making sure my boots landed softly on the stone.
Aurelia stood in the entry, arms folded, all pale skin and black hair and the kind of expression that never quite let on if she was amused or just studying me. She wore a soft-looking blue dress, but she’d paired it with combat boots and a ring of silver charms around one wrist. Her eyes were gold today, which meant she’d been working magic, or about to.
"On time for once," she said. "You good?"
I snorted. "Just nerves."
She stepped back, letting me pass. "They’re in the parlor."
The parlor looked like they'd brought in a professional cleaning crew. Sunlight washed over the velvet chairs, the old piano was open, and the glass coffee table had been wiped clean of fingerprints.
Krystal sat on the couch, one arm draped over Bryce’s shoulders. She looked less tired than I’d seen her in months, but her eyes were tracking every move, her jaw tight. Bryce, perched on the edge of the cushion, was smaller than I remembered, shoulders sloped, hands knotted in the hem of his t-shirt. The light caught in his hair, picking out the auburn streaks, and a punch of recognition stole my breath. He was a Roberts, and there was no undoing it. My heart, and dragon, soared. My son.
He tapped his heel on the floor in a stuttering rhythm, every few seconds matching it with the fingers of his right hand. The same way I did when I got nervous. The dragon in me had a rush of pride, and then the human weight of responsibility and fear pressed it down.
Aurelia didn’t waste time. "I’ll be close by if you need anything," she said, the words aimed more at Krystal than at me. "Just holler."
Krystal nodded, her lips pressed thin. She mustered a smile for Bryce, then shifted so she sat a little straighter.
I crossed the room and took the open chair across from them. I tried not to let the nerves show, but I could feel them in my jaw, in every word I lined up and rejected before it could hit the air.
Krystal didn’t make it weird. She just looked at Bryce, gentle but all business. "Bryce, this is Zaden. He’s your father."
No apology, no hedging. Just the facts.
Bryce didn’t flinch. He watched me with a seriousness that made him seem older than nine, his chin tipped up like he could see through every layer I’d ever built. His fingers slowed, but didn’t stop, the beat gone soft and tentative.
I almost spoke first, but he got there before me. "Do you really turn into a dragon?" he asked, the words coming out in a quick, breathless tumble.
The tension eased. I laughed, loud and honest, nothing like the bark I’d practiced a thousand times for strangers in the bar. "I do," I said, leaning forward. "Wings, tail, teeth, fire, the whole package."
His mouth shaped the start of another question, but he caught himself and glanced at Krystal. She gave a little nod, barely more than a flicker. Bryce’s attention snapped back to me.
"What’s it like?" he said, not as shy anymore. "Does it hurt?"
I shook my head. "Not when you’re used to it. At first, it’s weird, like every bone in your body wants to be somewhere else. Once you get the hang of it, it’s more like stretching after you’ve been cooped up too long."
He considered that, brow furrowed. "Can you fly?"
"Yeah," I said, proud. "Not for miles at a time, not unless I want to risk every camera in the county, but I can get up there. There's nothing like it."
Bryce’s next question came fast. "Do you breathe fire? For real?"
I grinned. "For real. Not in the house, though. I’d get grounded for life."
That earned a snort from Krystal. Bryce giggled, the sound bright and clear, and I felt something settle in my chest. He looked down at his hands, still drumming. "If I’m half dragon, does that mean I’ll get to shift, too?"
Krystal’s hand found his shoulder, steady. "We don’t know yet, bud. But you might. If it happens, you’ll have help from all of us."
I nodded, trying to make it true. "You’ll have the best mentors money can buy. Or, you know, dragons."
He liked that. "Are there any other kid dragons?"
I shook my head. "Not around here. You’d be the first in Stock Creek. But I had friends who had kids, back in the day. They’re grown now, but they weren’t much older than you when they had their first shift."
He took that in, then shifted in his seat. The drumming on his shirt hem picked up speed.
