Aero’s dragon rumbled its displeasure. The beast had been restless all day—ever since this morning at the weather station, when Cassia had brushed past him to reach the monitoring console and the brief contact had sent the familiar currentthrough him. She’d felt it too. He’d seen her freeze, her breath catch, before she’d retreated to the far side of the room and refused to look at him for the next hour.
He’d spent the afternoon analyzing the moment. Cataloging variables. Trying to determine what combination of atmospheric conditions and surge interference could produce such an intense physiological response.
His dragon had laughed at him. Again.
“Aero.” Delos snapped his fingers in front of his face. “You’re doing that thing where you stare into the middle distance and forget other people exist.”
“I was thinking.”
“About the weather witch?”
“About the research.”
“Same thing, at this point.” Delos hauled open the brewery door. “Come on. The local alphas want to meet you. Apparently they don’t get many dragon visitors, and an elder is basically a celebrity. Try not to embarrass us.”
“I never embarrass?—”
But Delos was already inside, the door swinging shut behind him, and Aero was left with no choice but to follow.
The interiorof Wolf Moon Brewery was worse than the exterior.
Worse because it was warm and comfortable and full of the kind of easy camaraderie that Aero had spent centuries avoiding. Music played from somewhere—not loud, just present—and the overall effect was aggressively inviting.
The beast shifted uneasily beneath his skin. Too many people. Too much noise. Too far from exits.
A large booth dominated the back corner, and that was where Delos headed with the unerring instinct of someone who always knew where the interesting people were. Six males occupied the space—a mix of species, if Aero’s senses were correct. Wolf. Lion. Bear. Panther. All of them watching as the two dragons approached.
Assessing. Evaluating. Deciding whether the newcomers were threats or assets.
Aero understood this. He’d done the same thing in a thousand different communities across three continents. What he didn’t understand was the twist of discomfort in his gut. The unfamiliar desire to be found… acceptable.
“Gentlemen.” Delos slid into the booth with practiced ease, his grin already deployed at full wattage. “I come bearing gifts. Namely, my illustrious employer, who has agreed to grace you with his presence for exactly as long as it takes me to drink three beers.”
“Four,” Aero corrected, claiming the edge of the bench seat. He preferred positions with clear sightlines to exits. “I agreed to four beers.”
“Three for me, one for you.” Delos flagged down a server. “He doesn’t drink. Well, he doesn’t do most things that involve enjoying life, but drinking especially.”
“I drink.”
“Black coffee doesn’t count.”
Across the table, one of the males snorted. He was big—not just tall but broad, with the kind of muscle mass that came from shifting into something enormous on a regular basis. Dark hair, darker eyes, a stillness about him that spoke of hard-won control. Bear, Aero’s senses confirmed. Alpha.
“Cal Ursa.” The bear extended a hand. His grip was firm, testing. Aero met it without flinching. “Heard you were in town researching the surge.”
“That’s correct.”
“Also heard you’ve been spending a lot of time with Cassia Gale.”
Aero’s dragon surged at her name. He forced it down. “She’s assisting with the atmospheric analysis. Her expertise in local weather patterns is invaluable.”
“Invaluable.” Cal’s expression didn’t change, but something shifted in his gaze. “Interesting word choice.”
“I’m Theo Vance.” The wolf alpha cut in before Aero could respond—a tall male with auburn hair and the kind of quiet authority that came from being obeyed without question. He didn’t offer his hand. Wolf protocols, probably. Different species, different customs. “Alpha of the Haven Shores pack.”
“Elder Aero Tau. Pacific Enclave.” Aero inclined his head. “I appreciate your willingness to meet.”
“Dragons don’t visit often.” Theo’s tone was neutral, but his eyes were sharp. “The last one we saw was about forty years ago. Just passing through. Didn’t even stay the night.”
