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I could feel the tragedy coming, sense it in the way Serna's shoulders had tensed. "What was her name?"

"Marion, the legends say." The name came out barely a whisper. "She was married to a lord, a powerful male with lands and titles and an army at his command. But when Kavan spoke to her, just once, she felt it too. That pull. The recognition of something profound and irrevocable."

Serna turned away from the window, and I saw the shimmer in her eyes. My mate, who commanded fleets and negotiated treaties with species that could crack planets, was at heart a hopeless romantic.

"Marion agreed to leave with him," she continued. "She was going to meet Kavan at the edge of her husband's lands and return to Drakhone with him." Serna's voice wavered. "But her husband realized she was missing and followed her."

I reached for her hand, lacing my fingers through hers. Her skin was cold.

"Her husband brought his entire army. When Marion arrived, when she saw Kavan waiting for her in the moonlight, her husband put a sword through her heart." Serna's grip on my hand tightened until it was almost painful. "He killed her rather than let her go. Killed her while Kavan watched, while he was too far away to stop it."

"Jesus Christ," I breathed.

"Kavan shifted into his dragon form." Serna's voice had gone flat now, reciting facts because the emotion was too much. "He killed the husband first. Tore him apart. Then he burned everything. The garrison, the castle, the villages. Thousands of humans died in the fires. They say the smoke could be seen for a hundred miles, that the flames burned for three days straight."

I tried to imagine it, tried to picture the kind of grief and rage that could fuel such destruction. "The Alliance intervened?"

"Eventually. But not before Kavan had reduced an entire region to ash." She pulled her hand from mine and wrapped her arms around herself. "The Alliance Council debated for months about what to do. Some wanted Kavan executed. Others argued that Marion's death was murder and Kavan's response was justified grief. In the end, they chose a middle path."

"Hibernation," I said, the pieces clicking together.

"Forced hibernation of the entire planet for seven hundred and fifty years. Every Drakhoni, from the newborns to the ancient ones, put into a deep sleep. Their planet locked down, their technology suspended, their civilization frozen in time. It was meant to be both punishment and protection. Punishment for Kavan's rampage, protection for a species too dangerous to operate unchecked while consumed by grief and rage."

I did the math in my head, counting backward. "That would put Marion's death in the 1340s. The timing lines up with dragon folklore on Earth. All those stories about dragons burning villages, hoarding treasure, stealing maidens. They weren't myths at all. They were just aliens visiting my planet."

Serna turned to look at me, and I caught the faintest hint of amusement breaking through her worry. "Why does this surprise you? You already know that the creatures humans call Bigfoot are actually Kerzak who've visited Earth."

"Fair point," I conceded. "But dragons feel different somehow. More significant." I moved closer to her, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her skin. "You're worried about more than just the historical significance, though. What aren't you telling me?"

She leaned into me, and I wrapped my arms around her, feeling the tension in her spine. "Seven hundred and fifty years is a long time, Cullen. Even for a species that naturally hibernates. I don't know what we're going to find when Drakhone fully awakens. Will they be the same beings who went to sleep? Will they be angry? Will they blame the Alliance for taking so much time from them?" She tilted her head back to look at me. "And more importantly, will they rejoin the Alliance peacefully, or will we have to fight the most dangerous warrior species in the universe?"

I could see the political calculations running behind her eyes, already three steps ahead, planning for contingencies I couldn't even imagine. "What do you need to do?"

"Reintegrate them carefully. Send a diplomatic mission to assess the situation, gauge Kavan's temperament, and help them acclimate to how much the universe has changed." She pulled away from me and began pacing, her tactical mind fully engaged. "Ambassador Khaion would be perfect for this. He's got the diplomatic experience, and his mate Emmy is human. For all their fierceness, Drakhoni have strong protective instincts toward human females."

"But?" I prompted, hearing the hesitation in her voice.

"But Emmy is nine months pregnant and due any day now. I can't send her to Drakhone when the mission could take months and there are real dangers involved." She stopped pacing and turned to face me. "Kavan has always been honorable, even in his grief. But there are factions in the northern reaches, clans that bristled at Alliance authority even before the hibernation. If they wake up angry, if they decide to challenge Kavan's leadership or Alliance jurisdiction, things could get very ugly very quickly."

I turned the problem over in my mind. "You need someone who can gain Kavan's trust. Someone who can navigate the political landscape and report back on the internal dynamics. Someone who can help them adjust to seven and a half centuries of missed history."

"Yes," Serna said. "But who? Most of our diplomats are too rigid, too formal. Many were on bad terms with the Drakhoni before the hibernation. The Drakhoni respect strength, but they also value authenticity. They can smell deception the way you might smell smoke. Whoever we send needs to be genuine, adaptable, and capable of handling themselves if things go sideways."

An idea sparked in my mind, something that felt right in a way I couldn't quite articulate yet. "What about one of the operatives from Asad Intelligence?"

Serna's eyebrows rose. "Asad Intelligence? They're spies, Cullen, not diplomats."

"Hear me out," I said, warming to the idea. "Over the past six months, the human women brought into the program have exceeded every expectation. They're adaptable, they think on their feet, and they've got this way of reading people that even our most experienced alien operatives don't have. Chloe's been running the human recruitment program, and she tells me the results have been remarkable." I couldn't help the hint of pride that crept into my voice at the mention of my daughter's name.

I watched Serna's expression shift as she considered it, saw the exact moment when the idea took root. "A human woman," she said slowly. "Someone who could appeal to Kavan's protective instincts while also being capable enough to handle the mission's complexities."

"Exactly," I said. "And someone who could move through Drakhoni society in a way that a traditional diplomat couldn't. They'd be expecting an official delegation, all pomp and ceremony. An intelligence operative could get a much clearer picture of what's really happening on the ground."

Serna went quiet, her mind working through the angles. Finally, she nodded. "It's risky, but it might work. The Drakhoni would be less guarded around a human woman. She could gather intelligence while serving as a cultural liaison."

"Chloe would know who to recommend," I said. "She's got a good eye for matching operatives to missions."

"Then I'll reach out to her first thing in the morning." Serna moved back into my arms, and I held her close, feeling some of the tension drain from her body. "Thank you. I needed a fresh perspective on this."