"Where did you get that?" Alessia's voice comes out strained, barely above a whisper. Her face has gone pale, her hand reaching out toward the blade before pulling back like she's afraid to touch it.
"My mother," I say again, confused by their reactions. "She gave it to me when I was young, maybe seven or eight years old. She taught me to fight with it, showed me how to use it for both defense and attack. She'd take me to the training grounds lateat night when no one else was around, and we'd practice until I could barely lift my arms. It's been mine for years now, the only thing I have left of her besides memories."
"May I?" Alessia asks, reaching out with a trembling hand. "Please, I need to see it closer."
I nod, carefully passing the blade to her. She takes it, her fingers tracing along the hilt and blade with obvious familiarity. Her eyes are wet with unshed tears as she examines it, turning it over in her hands like she's searching for something specific. Her breath hitches when she finds whatever she was looking for, and a tear slips down her cheek.
"Kaia, sweetheart," Alessia says, her voice thick with emotion. "This is one of our blades. It's dragon-forged, made here in Embrath by our finest craftspeople. The metal is a special alloy we developed centuries ago, stronger and lighter than anything else in existence. It even has our kingdom's insignia on it, right here." She points to a mark near the hilt that I've always assumed was just decorative, a swirling pattern I never thought to question.
Zara reaches for the blade, and Alessia passes it to her with obvious reluctance. Zara flips it over, studying both sides with increasingly intense focus. Her jaw clenches as she examines the handle, the blade, and every other detail. When she looks up at me, there's something in her eyes that makes my stomach drop with sudden dread.
"This was Isolde's blade," Zara says, her voice carefully controlled but vibrating with suppressed emotion. "I'd recognize it anywhere. She commissioned it herself, worked with our master smith for months to get every detail perfect. She designed the balance, chose the metals, even carved some of the decorative elements herself. How could you possibly have this? Where did you really get it?"
I shrink back slightly, overwhelmed by the intensity of their reactions. The way they're looking at the blade, at me, makes me feel like I've done something wrong without knowing what. "Isolde was my mother. That was her name. She died when I was young, an accident my father said. But before she died, she gave me this blade and made me promise to always keep it close, to never let anyone take it from me. She said it would protect me when nothing else could."
Alessia has gone even paler, one hand pressed to her mouth as if holding back a sob. And Zara, Zara looks like she's been struck, her entire body going rigid with tension.
"Your mother was a dragon, Kaia," Alessia finally says, her voice breaking on the words. "Isolde was one of us, one of our people. We lost her long ago, decades before you were born. She disappeared one day, went out on what should have been a routine patrol and never came back. We searched for years, sent scouts to every kingdom we had contact with, but found nothing. No body, no trace, no indication of what happened to her. And she was in Valoria this entire time? She was there and never came home, never sent word, never let us know she was alive?"
My mind races, trying to process this information. My mother was a dragon. Not just an Omega who couldn't shift, but a dragon who chose not to shift or couldn't for some reason. Who hid what she was for reasons I don't understand, who lived in a kingdom that hunted her people and never revealed the truth.
Solace's voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. "But if the queen had been a dragon, why would King Frederik want to come and steal your riches? Why would he send warriors to bring back one of you to the kingdom? Surely he would have known the truth of your existence and that you weren't beasts if he had one by his side. He would have known dragons are people, not monsters."
Zara's expression darkens, anger radiating from her in waves so intense that even without my empathic abilities, I can feel it pressing against me. She stands abruptly, nearly dumping me out of her lap. I scramble to steady myself, fear prickling along my spine as she begins to pace.
"Because we would never go quietly," Zara says, a rumbling sound following her words. Each word comes out clipped, controlled, like she's holding back something much worse. "Matings are a happy, joyous occasion among our people. When dragons mate, when we bond with someone from another kingdom, it's celebrated with feasts and festivals. Treaties are formed, alliances are strengthened, families are joined. If Isolde had been happily married to your father, if she'd chosen him freely and with love, we would have celebrated. We would have welcomed Frederik as family, would have opened trade routes and cultural exchanges. Valoria would have been a friend, not—"
She trails off, but I can fill in the rest. Not an enemy. Not a target. Not a kingdom sending warrior after warrior to kill them and steal their wealth. Not the source of decades of violence and death.
My father didn't just marry my mother. He stole her. Kidnapped her, took her against her will, kept her prisoner in Valoria for years. And she never told me. Never explained what she was, what I am, what my father had done. She let me grow up thinking I was just a wolf Omega who couldn't shift, when really I'm half dragon. Half the very thing my kingdom has been trying to exterminate.
Tears blur my vision. I squirm away from Zara's proximity, suddenly unable to bear being close to any of them. I need space. My legs carry me down the hall without conscious direction, moving on autopilot while my mind reels with revelations. I can hear Solace rushing after me, her footsteps quick on the marble floor.
I don't make it far before my legs give out. The weight of everything, the truth about my mother, the realization of what my father did, the knowledge that I'm the daughter of a kidnapped dragon, it's all too much. I fall to the floor in an undignified heap, sobs tearing from my throat in gasping, ugly sounds. Solace drops down beside me immediately, pulling me into her arms.
"How can I want this?" I gasp between sobs, the words barely coherent. "How can fate be so cruel as to give me queens that my father has disrespected? My father has done so much against them, sent so many warriors to kill them, stolen one of their own and kept her prisoner until she died. And he knew. He had to have known what they really were because he had my mother. He knew dragons are people and he sent warriors to kill them anyway. And he never let me know who I am, what I am. My mother never said anything either, whether it was for my sake or because she was too afraid. I can't be here, Sol. I can't accept this bond knowing what my kingdom has done to theirs. I don't deserve them."
"It'll be alright," Solace murmurs, rocking me gently. "We'll figure this out. You're not responsible for your father's actions. You didn't know any of this."
Footsteps approach, and I feel Zara crouch in front of me. Her hand cups my chin, lifting my face until I have no choice but to meet her eyes. The anger is gone, replaced by something fierce and protective that makes my breath catch.
"I will not let history repeat itself," Zara says firmly, each word carrying the weight of an oath. "Your father will pay for what he's done, for stealing Isolde and keeping her from us, for all the warriors he's sent to die. But that's not your burden to carry, Kaia. You're a victim of his actions just as much as we are. For now, we focus on ourselves, the four of us. We build our bond,strengthen our connection, and learn what it means to be mates. Everything else can wait."
I melt into her touch, fresh tears streaming down my face. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for what he did, for what Valoria has done to your people. I didn't know, but that doesn't make it better."
Alessia appears beside Zara, her hand finding my shoulder. She squeezes gently, grounding me. "You're not responsible for your father's crimes, sweetheart. He kept you from knowing your heritage, kept you from understanding who and what you are. He robbed you of half your identity, half your magic, half your family. That's not your fault."
"I'm taking you to bed, sweet girl," Zara says, scooping me up into her arms with ease. I don't protest, just curl into her chest and let her carry me. "We're going to hold you and comfort you, and you're just going to focus on us right now. Not on your father, not on the past, not on anything except the four of us in this moment."
"Tell me about my mother," I beg as she carries me down the hall toward our bedroom. I need to know who she really was, what she was like before my father destroyed her life. "Please? I need to know her story."
Zara's expression softens as she presses a kiss to my forehead. "Gladly."
Zara
Solace is in the middle of our massive bed, holding Kaia to her chest like she's the most precious thing in existence. Kaia's face is still blotchy from crying, tear tracks drying on her cheeks, but she's calmer now. Alessia and I position ourselves on either side of them, close enough to touch but giving them space to breathe.
I reach out to stroke Kaia's hair, letting my fingers work through the curls gently. She leans into the touch, her eyes closing briefly. "You want to know about your mother," I say quietly. "About Isolde."
