The next morning, Nestan and Linnea met up with Gerrit, Jude, Rayner, and Vera along with ten or fifteen of the clan’s best guardsmen. They walked in a procession through the center of the mountain and up the main stairs toward the southern landing pad. At the giant doors, Nestan squeezed Linnea’s hand as she hoisted the Draqon baby—who had been scuttling along at their feet—up onto her shoulder, its tail wrapping tightly around her neck, paws plunging into her hair with glee.

The guardsmen opened the giant doors and they walked outside, Gerrit and Jude taking the lead into the early morning light. Out on the landing pad, the sun had crested over the mountain tops, and the white, snowy caps in the distance would be majestic if not for the horrifying sight before her.

Like out of a fantasy novel of old, dragons. Freaking, massive, flying dragons.

But here, on Kladuu, these dragons were men. And they were not from the pages of a book. They were real. They were Draqons. Real, live-action, up close and personal.

It was one thing when she held and defended a baby, it was another altogether to see them full-grown and flapping their giant wings right in front of her. On the landing pad, two men—one with white-blond hair and the other with black—and a young couple waited. A large number of guards in human form wearing tight black riding leathers surrounded them, but up above was where Linnea’s fear originated.

Flapping wings that each spanned more than triple Nestan’s height were giant versions of the baby now bouncing on her shoulder. They came in colors of green, purple, red, and so many others her head swirled. And atop each monster, a woman, clad in leather armor, rode with bow drawn.

The blood rushed from Linnea’s mind, leaving her woozy with fear and disbelief. Nestan placed an arm around her waist and held her steady as the baby swatted a paw against his shoulder.

“Do you see someone you recognize?” he asked him, smiling.

The baby wiggled and squirmed until Nestan reached up and lifted him, setting the tiny monster on the ground. As soon as the baby could move on his own, he ran toward the human shaped Draqons, his one good wing flapping and throwing him off balance.

A woman bent down and reached out her arms, tears flowing down her face as she cried out, “Dirim!”

As soon as the baby leaped into the air and his mother wrapped her arms around him, his scales rippled, catching the sunlight, and his body stretched. Naked skin replaced his scales as he transformed into a healthy young toddler, with one arm clutched tightly to his side.

The mother and father huddled around their lost child while Linnea, stunned with her breath lodged in her chest, leaned her weight against Nestan.

She was glad to see him home with his own people, with his parents where he belonged. She knew what it was like to grow up without a mother or to feel alone and helpless. But that didn’t mean her heart didn’t break for the tiny creature she had come to love more deeply than she’d ever expected.

Nestan dropped a kiss on her temple, and when she looked up, she realized he had tears in his eyes as well.

A tall man with the sides of his head shaved and light blond hair on top long enough to cover one side of his face strode forward. His full beard and massive frame reminded Linnea of a Viking. He had on worn leathers that hugged his muscular figure like a second skin, and behind him, a red cloak flapped over his shoulders. Though he had the bearing of someone who had borne the mantle of power for a long time, his grizzled appearance wasn’t from age. His black eyes were large and unblinking as he stared first at Nestan, Linnea, and then Gerrit.

“My name is Zayd, Leader of Clan Draqon. This is our Swarm Master, Maxsym,” he said, indicating the dark-haired young man with the fearsome smile. “We thank you for returning our lost child.” Zayd spoke as if these were his final words and not merely a greeting. Even his posture indicated he intended to turn and walk away as soon as possible.

Gerrit strode forward, and the Draqon’s guard closed in around their leader.

The Alpha paused and held out his in a gesture of supplication. “Zayd, it is an honor to finally meet you. I am Gerrit, Alpha of Clan Vilka. We have many things to speak of, should you have time to indulge our request. There is a danger to all Kladians, with which we seek your assistance.”

Zayd narrowed his eyes at Gerrit, and Maxsym stepped closer and slightly in front of the leader. The large Swarm Master had raven hair and glittering green eyes that gave Linnea the feeling he wasn’t to be trusted.

“If possible, we beg an audience with your Queen,” Gerrit said, lowering his eyes.

Zayd’s eyes turned impossibly darker. Linnea stepped closer to Nestan, whose grip on her hip tightened and a soft growl came from the back of his throat as if he sensed danger as well.

Scales along Zayd’s tanned, scarred shoulders rattled and raised, reflecting a fiery orange in the sunlight. From the air above the landing pad, the other Draqons squawked and screamed, circling closer, their wings casting great gusts of wind across the pad.

Maxsym slammed a hand against Zayd’s chest to hold him back. Linnea saw how his arm strained with the effort. Through his clenched teeth, he said, “Our hive is currently without a Queen. Any negotiations you have regarding war or peace treaties would be handled through Zayd,” he stated grimly.

Gerrit’s relaxed posture didn’t change despite the strange behavior of their guests. His voice was steady and calm when he began again, addressing Zayd. “My apologies. I understand the loss of a Queen must be very difficult to the hive. We recently lost my father, the Alpha before me, and it has taken some time for us to recover.”

He offered a welcoming smile even though Maxsym was only just getting Zayd under control. Watching Gerrit as he spoke for his people and tried to secure the help they needed against Savas, Linnea better understood just why Jude hadn’t been able to leave him. He was a good Alpha. A good man.

“If it’s possible, a temporary cease-fire for the sake of mutual peace would be taken as a show of good faith,” Gerrit said.

Zayd’s high cheekbones and intelligent eyes spoke of a strong leader, but he was younger than he first appeared. His hair moved away from his face as he looked up at the Draqons circling above, and Linnea had to hold back a gasp.

The side of his face appeared badly scarred, as if burnt, but from what she had seen of the Draqon baby, they were virtually fireproof. What could he have done that? And what had happened that would cause such a young man to stand with such fury?

“Zayd,” the Draqon baby’s mother spoke softly, but with a forceful power Linnea would not expect to be directed at a leader so fearsome. “This is not how Sotu would want us to thank those who saved Dirim.”

At that moment, the baby wiggled out of his mother’s arms and ran, stark naked, back to Linnea and Nestan. He wrapped his good arm around her waist, hugging her tightly.

Kneeling, Linnea stroked the small boy’s hair. “Well, it is good to see there’s more than just a fuzzy bunny in there,” she said, a tear blurring her vision.

The small boy laughed and wrapped his arm around her neck. He smelled familiar, still the same as the strange little Draqon who’d crawled around on her shoulders and tugged her hair. When he pulled back, he stared at her with large brown eyes and a toothy smile. He looked up at Nestan and said in his lilting baby’s voice, “Thank you.”

It was the first time Linnea had heard his tiny voice, and she felt like the ground was dropping out from beneath her. He turned to run back to his parents, and if it hadn’t been for Nestan pulling her back up and wrapping her in his strong arms, she didn’t know how she would be able to let him go.

Zayd watched the exchange with narrow black eyes and raised a hand. For the first time, Gerrit stiffened, and Rayner stepped forward, placing a hand on the center of his Alpha’s back as if ready to whisk him away by force.

All at once, the Draqon riding harpies lowered their bows and arrows. The Draqons lifted higher into the air and Zayd’s guards retreated to the back of the landing pad.

“We will accept a brief meeting,” Zayd said. “Not a peace treaty or a ceasefire, only a brief parley. However, you have returned someone dear to our clan and to me personally. This is Dirim, my nephew. And while we’ve searched, he has been impossible to find.”

“That’s because he was kidnapped,” Gerrit said with finality.

Zayd’s body tensed up again, and when he hissed, a puff of smoke escaped from his flared nostrils.

“We know who is responsible,” Gerrit continued before Zayd’s anger brought down his Draqons again. “We think we know what they’re doing. And we are committed to making sure it stops. For all the clans of Kladuu. Please, come inside, and we will tell you everything we know. No secrets or games of politics. Only the plain truth. I hope we can find a way to protect all Kladians.”

Turning, Zayd shared a quiet word with his Swarm Master, who gestured wildly and seemed thoroughly unimpressed with the idea of going within the walls of the Vilkan mountain.

Zayd’s face hardened, and with a sharp gesture to silence Maxsym’s argument, he turned back to Gerrit. “We will sit and speak with you. However, we require that our guards come with us.”

Gerrit agreed with the stipulation that those who came within his home must remain in their human form.

As Gerrit and Rayner turned to leave, Zayd and Maxsym followed closely behind. Linnea watched as Jude, Vera, and a massive number of Vilkan and Draqon guards went inside. It was probably the first time that many of them had been together without fighting in a long time.

When the landing pad was mostly empty, Linnea stepped toward the couple who held Dirim. “We’ll miss you,” she told the little boy.

The young woman smiled, and the harsh intensity of the Draqons which had left an impression on Linnea faded away. “Thank you for taking care of him and making sure he wasn’t injured more. Can you tell us what happened?”

“He’d been kidnapped, as Gerrit said. I was a prisoner as well, as was Nestan.”

Stepping closer, Nestan wrapped both arms around her waist.

She leaned back slightly, pulling strength from the warmth of his presence. “When we escaped, we couldn’t leave Dirim behind. He wouldn’t shift and we didn’t know if he could, so we brought him here and contacted you as soon as we could.”

The woman rushed forward, startling Linnea, and pulled both Linnea and Nestan into an embrace. The little boy stood behind her holding his father’s hand and bouncing on his toes.

“Mama, mama, mama!”

The woman leaned down toward her son. “What is it, dear?”

“I’m a fuzzy bunny,” the little boy said.

Linnea laughed out loud, and even Nestan allowed himself to relax enough to let out a chuckle.

“That’s what I called him,” Linnea explained. “We didn’t know his name.”

The woman shook her head, smiling at the exchange. “You don’t smell Vilkan.”

“I’m not. I’m human.”

Shoving her son back behind her, the woman hissed, “Human? What have you told them about us?”

“Nothing,” Linnea protested. “As far as I know, most of the humans don’t even know about Kladuu. And I hope they never do.”

“From what I hear of your kind, that would be for the best,” Dirim’s father said. “What do you know about Draqons?”

“Only that you and the Vilkas have been at war, and that Dirim is the sweetest child I’ve ever met.”

The mother’s face softened. “We are shifters like the Vilka, but only the males of our species shift,” she said, gesturing to the six Draqons who remained in the sky above them. “Their mates ride on their backs, entering battle together. A bonded combat pair is a special thing.” The woman snuck an affectionate glance at her mate.

“So, he shouldn’t have shifted yet?” Linnea asked.

“Some Draqons shift this young, but it’s unusual. Usually, the young ones stay close to their mothers, and that keeps them calm, so they don’t shift unexpectedly. But when certain little boys wander away”—the woman ruffled her son’s hair—“and get startled, they might shift before they’re ready and have no one around to teach them how to return to their primary form.”

“And if they were kidnapped in that state …” Linnea began.

“They would have no way to defend themselves,” the man said. “Thank you. Even without knowing the intentions of whoever took him, Dirim may have been lost to us had you not shown kindness to a Draqon.” The man looked directly in Nestan and gave a sharp nod.

Nestan pulled his arms from around Linnea’s waist and extended a hand. “We may not be of the same clan, but we are all Kladians.”

Linnea watched as the man shook Nestan’s hand and she was proud of the man who she had come to love—

No, that wasn’t right. It was too fast. But as she looked at the little boy standing on his mother’s feet asking to be picked up, she could easily see a future she never imagined wanting. A future with Nestan.

“I don’t imagine Zayd will wait long to get down to business,” the woman said. “I should be in there to keep him from over-reacting.”

“You’re related?” Linnea asked.

“I’m his sister-in-law. My sister, Sotu, was his Queen.”

Nestan let out a sigh. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“It’s been some time, but Zayd has never been the same.”

Nestan took Linnea’s hand and led the five of them back inside the mountain’s walls.

It was time to talk peace with the Vilkas’ sworn enemy.