I knelt by Bryce’s chair, resting a hand on his shoulder. "You’re gonna feel weird for a while," I said. "But I’m here. Your mom’s here. And we’ll teach you everything we know."
He looked at me, then the edge of his mouth quirked in a half-smile. "Even the flying?"
"Especially the flying," I said.
Krystal tousled his hair. "But maybe after you brush your teeth, okay?"
He rolled his eyes, nine going on eighteen, and wandered down the hall to the bathroom.
When he was gone, Krystal’s mask dropped. She leaned into the counter, gripping it so hard her knuckles paled. "I can’t lose him," she said, voice raw.
"You won’t," I said, moving behind her and wrapping her in my arms. "Not as long as I’m breathing."
She melted into me, her worry crackling like an exposed wire.
I held her, letting the bond knit us closer, and stared at the wall, already plotting how to keep Vivienne, and every other predator in this town, away from my son.
The dragon in me swore an oath, right there, over cold coffee and burnt toast.
I would never let anything happen to him.
Beck Manor was built for intimidation. Even after a century or three of renovations, every inch of it declared that the Becks were here first and would be here long after the rest of Stock Creek’s residents had gone to dust.
The big double doors opened before I could knock. Aurelia stood on the other side, wearing black jeans and a cashmere wrap thatprobably cost more than my motorcycle. She arched a brow. "You look like you slept in your own bed for once."
I grinned. "New habits."
She led me through the front hall and up the sweeping staircase. The whole place smelled of lemon polish and old secrets. When we reached the landing, she paused, glancing back at me. "Ashton’s waiting. And Drake. Try not to set the office on fire this time?"
"No promises," I said, only half joking.
She rolled her eyes and vanished down the hall, leaving me in front of the double doors to Ashton’s sanctum.
The office was a holdover from the Gilded Age, massive desk, leather chairs, a wall of glass-fronted bookshelves loaded with first editions and dragon lore. The windows faced east, flooding the room with early light, which caught on the display case of dragon artifacts at one end. There were ancient coins, ceremonial blades, scales preserved under glass. Power radiated from every surface.
Ashton sat behind the desk, fingers steepled, eyes sharp and appraising. Drake sprawled in an armchair near the fireplace, one ankle propped on his knee, looking like he’d just woken from a bender or a century-long nap.
I closed the doors behind me and paced the perimeter, scanning every corner before settling in the chair opposite Ashton’s.
He watched me. "You wanted to talk?"
I didn’t waste time. "It’s Vivienne. She’s more than interested in Bryce, she’s fixated. She watched the whole thing like a hawk, and afterwards, she cornered me. Said hybrids like him aresupposed to be impossible. She wants to help, but she said it like a threat."
Drake snorted. "She’s a witch, Zaden. They get off on being mysterious. Half their job is talking in riddles."
I shook my head. "No. This is different. The way she looked at him, at us, it wasn’t science. It was hunger."
Ashton’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t move, but I could feel the subtle shift in his energy. "You think she’s a danger to him?"
"Yes," I said, louder than I meant to. "And not just her. If the word gets out, what Bryce is, what he can do, every supernatural leech from here to New Orleans will come knocking."
Drake leaned forward, elbows on knees. "You’re not wrong. But Vivienne’s been part of this family’s circle for decades. If she wanted to take him, she’d have tried last night. Instead, she helped."
"She helped because she wants something," I shot back. "She even said it. ‘When the time comes, you’ll need me.’ I don’t trust her."
Ashton leaned back, a slow, deliberate move that reminded me who was alpha in this room. "You’re protective. That’s good. But maybe you’re letting the mate bond and the sudden jump to fatherhood get in your head. Vivienne’s an asset. We need her more than she needs us."
My jaw tensed. "You’re not listening."
