Calla tried to reach Mateo to let him know she was coming and failed—it was probably better this way, so he didn't have warning to hide from her. Whatever lies he'd been told, she would have to counteract in person. The Pythian refused to let her go without protection, so Roku's entire team flanked her. She knew it looked like an assault was coming, but she was on a mission to recover her mate and the prince of the realm. This was as much a diplomatic meeting as it was a personal one.

But that didn't mean she couldn't make an entrance.

She knew he was at his hotel suite in LA from a quick scan of the gossip rags—and a flight of dragons setting down in front of the hotel was bound to catch his attention.

Calla didn't have to wait long.

They shifted to human in the lobby, snatching up the bags they'd been carrying in their teeth and quickly dressed. She heard the flash of several cameras and resigned herself to being butt naked on the front page of someone's newspaper. Oh, well.

An elevator pinged and Mateo appeared a moment later, striding through the gathering road with his rock star insouciance.

"Hey, babe. Did we win?"

Though his tone was casual, cocky, his eyes were serious, and pierced through her neutral expression. She strode forward, the last few steps at a dead run and launched herself at him. Desperate, uncaring of the audience. She needed to feel him. Arms around her, breath in her ear as he laughed.

"The ladies just love me," he whispered in her ear, holding her tight. His hand burned in her hair and he yanked her head back, searching her face. And she knew one thing right away—he hadn't left her.

"We won," she said.

His head tilted, hair falling over his shoulders, and smirked. "How's General Takoda?"

"Dead."

Mateo smiled, and it reminded Calla of his mother. On a battlefield, with prey in her maw.

"Why did you leave?" she asked.

He twined a lock of her hair around his finger. "You wouldn't have believed me, babe. You needed to find out for yourself, and I was in the way. I figured you could handle one little traitor."

"We should take this somewhere else," Roku called. "For the sake of the dignity of the Dragon Court. Your Highness, may we escort you to your suite?"

Mateo looked around. "You brought a royal with you?"

"Oops," Roku said.

She didn't believe the 'oops' for a second. Calla sighed. "Mateo, let's go upstairs. We need to talk."

Mateo looked between her and Roku, brow raised, then shrugged. And hesitated. But finally nodded, indicating they should proceed.

* * *

The elevator pinged, the door sliding open to his floor.

"I suppose I should tell you," her mate said casually, "that Estophen is here."

* * *

The vampyr rose from his seat on the couch as the dragons entered the suite, the elevator door sliding closed behind them.

"Calla," Mateo said, his voice sharp.

She paused, halted her immediate, visceral shift. But when she spoke, her voice was the deep rumble of a dragon warrior. "What the fuck is he doing here?"

Estophen sniffed, sipping the deep red liquid in his glass. "So ladylike."

"I'm the First General of the Dragon Court of Patomas. I am not a lady." She snarled at Mateo. "Explain yourself."

"An understanding has been reached. Considering the fact that the client is dead."

"Our reputation and customer service record is preserved," Estophen said.

"So, I'm just supposed to forget that—"

"Calla, baby. We're all family, now."

She blanched. Estophen smirked. "But," the vampyr said, "Mateo did promise we would be compensated for the loss of the contract."

"Mateo."

"You know you could use a cognate of vampyrs with specialized skills."

"This is a little insane," Roku murmured. "The Pythian will be highly amused."

But she wasn't. At all.

"We can always pretend we didn't hear that," her lieutenant continued.

"No," Calla said, grim. "Word is bond. Especially the word of the prince."

She bowed, so the others took a knee. Mateo looked at all of them, Estophen's eyes narrowed.

"Calla," her mate said.

"Do you remember the bloodstained clothes?" she asked him, and waited for his nod. "I was wondering why it was so easy for me to love you. And when we were home, I realized—well, I suspected before then—that… you are our Delphina and Pythian's son. One of them."

Mateo stared at her. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Estophen began to chuckle, hands rubbing together. "Perfect. This is wonderful news, my Descent."

She ignored, resentfully, the glee on the vampyr's face. "We ran the DNA."

Not a single face other than Estophen's held amusement. The dragons continued to kneel, though Calla knew their attention was sharp on the vampyrs.

"I… see," he said. "So, you didn't come back here for me—for us?"

Roku snorted.

Calla rolled her eyes. "We're mates, Mateo. You'll learn what that means—eventually." She sighed. "Damn and blast—I'll probably be put in charge of your education. As if I don't have enough to do."

"My father is the Pythian?"

His shock penetrated the shield around their bond. He opened to her, and she felt everything he felt. And clutched her chest, breath gone. Joy and pain. Shock and sorrow. Calla stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"My father. And… my mother? What about my mother?"

Oh, shit. She cleared her throat. "Well. Your mother."

* * *

It was easier for her to take him to his father. “It might be the coward’s way out,” Calla said, grave, “but I suppose if anyone had the right to tell the story first, it is the Pythian.”

“I googled you," the Pythian said, studying his son.

"I'm much prettier in person," the rock star said, eyes hooded. "So, lost me at birth, huh? And four other siblings?" Mateo bared his teeth in a… smile.

Calla sighed, glancing at her mate. "Sir, the investigation?"

"The Sanabees subverted him," was the short reply. "It wasn't about Mateo—just a lucky twist of fate for us. You were the target. Takoda's ambition falling prey to traitors' machinations, the culprit. You need to clean house, Calla."

"Sir."

"Where is my mother?" Mateo asked quietly.

"We need to talk about that, son."

* * *

Calla waited in their suite for her mate to return. When he did, the mingle of joy and pain on his face told her everything. She opened her arms and he rushed towards her, kneeling at her feet and burying his head in her lap.

"Calla, my mother…"

"Shhh, baby. Soon. Just give her time. If we found one of you, we can find you all. And then maybe what was fractured will finally heal."

But it didn't answer the question—who took the hatchlings, and why? And why were they still alive?