“They’re restless,” I said through a laugh, picking my way across scattered white bones. The collection had grown with the clutch. Argos brought fresh kills daily.
The hatchlings caught sight of me and scrambled forward, claws clacking on bone and stone. Kalepsi snarled in warning, hissed, and every one of them froze. Their heads turned in unison. She chuffed, then clicked her teeth—a reminder. I had no wings. No armor.
The smokey blue crept close, head low, neck stretched like a cautious horse. His eyes shone, pupils wide with interest. Pale ivory fangs already pushed through his lips.
I didn’t stop. My fingers brushed up the bridge of his nose, then scratched behind the horns. He chirped and followed me, tail swaying, until I reached the heart of the Nest.
Despite the bloodied bones, the space felt clean. Wind poured in from every side, cool and sharp, sweeping the scent away.
Kalepsi waited until I’d settled, then herded her brood toward me. I hummed while a red one flopped down, pressing a warm, heavy head to my lap. With an impatient grunt, the purple dragon clawed her way to the ledge, tail swinging in agitation, sending bones flying. In a breath, she was gone.
Argos coasted past the Spire with a low purr, baiting her to follow.
The red chirped once as if verifying its mother left it with me—alone—in the care of a tiny human. With a puff of air, the beast surrendered, sinking its weight against me. I rubbed the ridged scales, smiling at the absurdity of it all.
I stayed for hours, waiting on Kalepsi. She needed time away from her clutch. They could fly, even hunt, but she wouldn’t trust the other dragons near them.
Between lullabies, I broke up two squabbles over whose head got my lap, and three more over favorite bones. When their mother returned, the sun had dipped low, bathing the Nest in copper light.
She needed the break. Her scales shimmered with sweat and blood, a strip of raw flesh snagged between her teeth. Even mothers had to eat.
The moment her claws touched stone, her head swung toward the Spire door. She curled her lip, snarling low.
I followed her glare—and my breath caught.
Kallias leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. His mouth tugged into a content smile. He barely spared Kalepsi a glance, standing right inside the threshold where he’d be safe. Most wouldn’t have risked even that.
“Come get your babies!” I shouted, pushing against the weight of a black-scaled head. The hatchling snorted, wedging in closer and fake-snoring with eyes squeezed shut. I laughed and yanked on its horns.
One growl from Kalepsi and it snapped upright, trilling in surrender. She stalked forward, nosing through my hair. Warm breath lifted the strands. I rubbed the velvet-soft scales framing her bloodied lips.
She lipped at my fingers, purring deep in her chest, then shoved bones aside with a flick of her tail and collapsed beside us. Her stomach hit the stone, and the hatchlings swarmed her. One dug at her fangs, determined to pry loose the remnants of meat wedged there.
I peeled myself up, legs numb, and stumbled toward Kallias. A rib bone caught my foot. He twitched forward like he might catch me, but held his ground. He knew better than to rush into a dragon’s nest.
When I reached him, I pressed a kiss to his cheek, sagging into him.
“How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to have six heart attacks from claws or teeth too close to you,” he muttered. He shifted, settling back against the stone wall, then drew me into his arms.
“They know better.” I sank into him with a grateful sigh. “Did you need me?”
“Always,” he said, grinning.
“Should I call you my husband-to-be now?” I murmured.
His eyes crinkled with quiet joy. “The treaty is signed tomorrow. Until then, I’m a king and you are a princess. Two foreign nations.”
“You’re a little close for a man who represents only that.”
His brows rose. “Should I let you go?”
I curled in tighter, resting my cheek on his chest, eyes drifting to the Nest. My dragons dozed, blanketed in bones and death.
“Never.”
“Where are you in your cycle?”
