Riordan leaned his head against Wilmer’s shoulder. “When did you get wise?”
“I’ve always been wise. You were just distracted by my rugged good looks.”
The sound Riordan made was half laugh, half sob, and Wilmer’s arm came around him in the same steady, undemanding way Wilmer did everything. He was their rock, their steady foundation, and Riordan appreciated that in the chaos their lives had become.
Jermon returned from the living room with Zayden, Xander, and Olivia trailing behind him like ducklings following a mother duck. “The lamp survived,” he announced. “Mostly. Also, Zayden can reach the top shelf now, which is going to be a problem.”
He stopped when he saw Riordan’s face. The playfulness vanished, and he sat on Riordan’s other side, hemming him in between both mates, and put his hand on Riordan’s knee. “Sando?”
Riordan nodded.
“Whatever he says, it doesn’t change anything about who Harley is.” Jermon’s voice was firm. “I’ve been monitoring their magical signature since they hatched. It’s strong, Riordan. Healthy. Different from their siblings, yes, but not diminished. Not damaged. Just operating on a frequency we haven’t encountered before.”
“That’s what worries me. That no one has encountered it.”
“Then we’ll be the first.” Jermon squeezed his knee. “We’re already the first in about fourteen different categories. What’s one more?”
He wasn’t wrong. A triad with two alphas—one dragon and one wolf—and a wolf omega. Dragon hatchlings born from a wolf daddy. Four eggs all surviving when the statistical likelihood was closer to one or two. They’d been breaking new ground since the day Riordan had gone into a heat that shouldn’t have produced dragon eggs and then delivered four of them.
Sando arrived after lunch,carrying a leather satchel and wearing his usual slightly rumpled expression. His glasses sat crooked on his nose, and his shirt had a stain from something red, but his eyes were bright with enthusiasm, which comforted Riordan. Sando wouldn’t look this cheerful if it were bad news, right?
The hatchlings had been put down for their afternoon nap, four small dragon bodies tangled in their nesting basket. Harley was in the center, their baby-blue scales standing out among the cream of their siblings like a patch of sky among clouds.
They settled around the kitchen table with Riordan, Wilmer, and Jermon on one side and Sando across from them. Sando opened his satchel and pulled out a folder, then paused before opening it. “Before I share the results, I want to say something. What I’ve found isn’t a diagnosis. It’s a description. Harley isn’t sick. There’s nothing wrong with them. What I’m going to tell you is information about who your child is, not a problem that needs to be solved.”
Riordan’s hands were gripping the edge of the table. Wilmer covered one of them with his own. Jermon’s hand was still on his knee.
“Go ahead,” Riordan said.
Sando opened the folder. “Based on my analysis—comparing dragon biological markers with wolf biology, cross-referencing with the data I’ve compiled on omega and alpha dragon physiology—Harley presents as what we would classify in wolf terms as a beta.”
“A beta,” Jermon repeated. “But dragons don’t have betas.”
“They didn’t. Until now.” Sando’s eyes were kind. “Biologically, Harley possesses characteristics of both alpha and omega dragon physiology. They’re carrying markers from both presentations in a combination that doesn’t match either classification. In wolves, this presentation is uncommon but documented. In dragons, there’s no precedent. I believe it’s the result of the cross-species conception—Riordan’s wolf genetics introducing biological patterns into the dragon offspring that have never occurred in a pure dragon clutch.”
Riordan’s vision blurred. He blinked hard, but the tears came anyway—silent, hot, rolling down his cheeks before he could stop them. Not sadness. Not fear. Something more complicated than either, a cocktail of emotions too mixed to separate.
“Is that why they’re blue?” Wilmer asked, his practical mind cutting straight to specifics.
“Possibly. If Harley’s status doesn’t fit the existing alpha-omega dragon binary, it stands to reason their coloring wouldn’t either. Baby-blue may represent something entirely new—a color and classification that dragon society has never seen because a beta dragon has never existed before.”
“Their abilities?” Jermon leaned forward, the researcher in him fully engaged. “Dragon abilities are tied to color. If Harley’s hatchling color is new?—”
“Then their abilities may be new as well. I can’t predict what those will look like. But based on the magical signature readings you’ve shared with me, Jermon, Harley’s magical potential is significant, and Fallon has confirmed this with his own readings. Whatever their gift turns out to be, it’s not going to be small.”
Riordan wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “Is this because of me? Because I’m a wolf?”
The question came out smaller than he intended, carrying the weight of a fear he’d been nursing since Harley hatched—that his wolf genes had done this, that his biology had deviated his child from the norm, that he was somehow responsible for making Harley’s life harder than it needed to be.
“Riordan.” Wilmer’s voice was sharp enough to cut through the guilt spiral. “Don’t.”
“He’s right,” Jermon said from his other side, his hand tightening on Riordan’s knee. “This isn’t something you did to Harley. This is something you gave Harley. You gave them wolf biology, and that biology created something that has never existed before. That’s not a deficiency. It’s a gift.”
“An unprecedented one,” Sando added gently. “Riordan, your child is going to be studied and discussed and marveled over for generations. Not because something went wrong, but because something entirely new went right. You created a bridge between two species that haven’t shared biology in this way before.”
Riordan looked at the nesting basket where four hatchlings slept in a pile. Harley’s blue scales caught the afternoon light, shimmering with that subtle responsiveness that was theirs alone. Beautiful. Unique. New.
“And their sex?” Jermon asked.
