Sandra tapped her foot on the floor in an uneven rhythm as she checked her watch for what to be the tenth time. Or maybe it was the twentieth. She hadn’t been keeping track. What she did know was this was taking far too long. It had been 3 hours since they started and they were still at it.

The freshly hatched Highwind Ravager gave a pleased chur before nibbling at her shirt sleeve. She gently pried her clothing loose before the dragon could do any real damage. It was so strange seeing the small pink dragon sitting in her lap. Every Ravager she had seen stood taller than her and had blood-red scales. They also had the temper of a firecracker. As if sensing her analysis, the pink dragon grinned at her, showing off some of its fangs.

Not even a year old and already got their fangs growing in, she thought.

Her attention went back to the grown Ravager just a few feet away. The contrast was immediately noticeable and not just their size and color. Every step the dragoness made radiated a feeling of confidence and entitlement. There was no joy in those yellow eyes, only a hint of sadness and fury as she scanned the room.

While Sandra hated some stranger walking around her home like they owned the place, she supposed that was just a side effect of the Matriarch’s attitude. These dragons were born to rule and were given priority for leadership positions. If she had that kind of privilege, she would be a little stuck up, too.

But the whole thing made her nervous. She turned to her partner, Menrir. Being a dragon herself, Menrir was often the aggressive one and didn’t back down in the face of anything. Looking at the dragon beside her now, head bowed, eyes cast downward, and not a tense muscle in her body, Sandra couldn’t believe it was the same no-nonsense wyrm she called friend. Even her dark grey scales which often made her resemble an approaching storm cloud seemed paler in the light as if the “storm” had been reduced to light rain.

The adult Ravager continued her inspection. The other baby dragons continued to move about on the floor, their playful squeals breaking the otherwise pregnant silence over them, oblivious to the nervous adults in their midst.

Finally, Sandra couldn’t take it anymore. This waiting around was more nerve-wracking than anything. “Excuse me, uh, my lady, but how much longer are you going to be?”

The Ravager shot a sideways glance her way then resumed inspecting the wall.

Sandra looked down at the baby version in her lap. “Not very talkative, is she? But you’ll talk to me, won’t you? You won’t be grumpy and mean all the time?”

“Shut up,” Menrir whispered.

Sandra immediately fell silent. Normally, she would have a retort, but a nervous dragon made her nervous.

The sound of approaching footsteps spared them another session of tense silence. The blonde-haired woman who accompanied the Matriarch entered the room. She walked with a slight limp. There had to be a story there, not that Sandra would ever ask about it. That wasn’t her business and she feared the response. The last thing she needed to hear was that the dragon in front of them liked to abuse her charges.

“Lady Aubrey,” the woman said. “I finished inspecting the other rooms.”

The dragoness turned to the woman. There was an immediate difference in her expression. It was one void of hostility and impatience. “That was fast. Are you sure you were thorough?”

“I am. But I do recommend making some adjustments to the bedrooms. The dragons fit now, but that will change when they’re older.”

The Ravager nodded and turned to Sandra. “I trust that there are no complaints?”

The audacity of this bitch, Sandra thought. Just waltz into my house and start making plans to change the place and daring me to say something?

“No, it isn’t a problem,” Menrir replied.

Sandra was too shocked by the reply to hide it. Even up until now, she expected Menrir to be at her limit and finally get fed up with their guest’s haughty attitude.

“Good,” Aubrey said. “Then I will have a crew come by tomorrow to start going over some blueprints.” She looked up and added. “Starting with the ceiling. It will need to be completely remodeled.”

“Okay, but I want to be there when—” Sandra began.

“That won’t be necessary,” Aubrey interjected.

Sandra took a deep breath. The baby Ravager began to squirm in her lap, likely sensing her rising anger. She sat the hatchling on the floor with the others.

“With all due respect, my lady,” Sandra said, struggling to keep her voice level. “But we’ve already been here for months and we’re doing just fine.”

Aubrey turned to her, and the same icy entitled look returned to her eyes. “Really? Because looking at this place, it’s woefully underprepared to handle multiple growing dragons. This room alone is too cramped.” She nudged a pair of baby dragons with her paw. “Already, they compete for space. It will only worsen as they age.”

“But that’s—” Sandra started.

Aubrey cut her off by slapping the wall with her tail, creating a hole the size of a melon. The deafening crack caused the baby dragons to cry in fright and scurry out of the room.

“The walls are brittle,” Aubrey said. “Adolescent dragons are prone to violent mood swings.” She stamped, cracking the floor. “The floorboards will never support their weight, and the ceiling is too low.”

“Hold on—”

“And that’s just what I saw from this room. I have not even asked for Helen’s report yet nor inspected the grounds of this place and it has already proven to be subpar.”

“But this place wasn’t originally—”

“A single hatchling would reduce this shack to ashes, and you expect to convince me that you can raise 29?”

That was it. Sandra was on her feet, looking the Matriarch in the eye. Dragon or not, she wouldn’t have someone come into her home and talk down to her that way.

“First, let’s get one thing straight—”

Everything happened in a flash. Aubrey snarled and in a blur of red, rushed Sandra. Before she could react, the dragon had her pinned to the floor, sharp pain in the back of her head and the dragon’s claws digging into her chest. The pain failed to distract from the air being squeezed out of her lungs. A searing heat washed over her as if she was inside an oven.

“No, you will listen,” Aubrey said, a threatening growl lacing her voice. “You have no authority here, not over me nor these dragons. I allow you to remain here out of courtesy for saving their lives.” She increased the pressure of her claws. “But make no mistake, you are simply an observer. You are to watch and obey and report to me if anything changes, understand?”

Sandra lay there, unable to move—not that moving was possible anyway. But it was Aubrey’s eyes that had her frozen with fear. They had gone from cold and indifferent to a suffocating rage. Aubrey wasn’t looking at her but through her.

She’ll do it. If I say the wrong thing and piss her off, she’ll kill me and take the dragons.

Helen appeared at Aubrey’s said and warily placed a hand on the dragoness’s shoulder. “Lady Aubrey, she understands. Please, she only wants what’s best for these dragons.”

Just like that, the fury slipped back into its cage, lingering in the edges of her eyes like light behind a closed door. Aubrey removed her paw and Sandra took a deep breath, relishing the cool air entering her lungs. The heat vanished and she became of her sweat-soaked clothes clinging to her body.

“I suggest teaching your human some manners,” Aubrey said to Menrir. “Next time, I will not be so lenient.”

“Yes, my Matriarch,” Menrir replied.

Sandra huffed and stood up, refusing Helen’s hand when offered. She couldn’t even look at her partner right now. Not once had Menrir ever failed to come to her defense even when she had been in the wrong. But she almost died and hadn’t heard so much as a protest from her friend.

“Good,” Aubrey said. “Now I’m going to inspect the grounds.” She hot a warning glare to Sandra as she added, “Alone. I will give my full report when I return.”

No one spoke as the Ravager stormed out, nearly tearing the door off its hinges and leaving another large crack in the wall.

Once Aubrey was out of sight, Helen turned to Sandra. “I’m very sorry for that. Please don’t judge her too harshly. It’s just she’s lost someone dear to her recently and she feels guilty. She sees these dragons as her way to make up for it and honor her friend’s memory.”

“Hey, look at that, someone with actual loyalty,” Sandra spat, throwing a knowing look at Menrir.

The grey dragoness seemed unbothered by the insult. “Bitch all you want. She’s a Matriarch.”

“And since when has that mattered?”

“Actually, it’s a strongly enforced law in dragon culture,” Helen interjected. “Matriarchs are absolute. Only another Matriarch is allowed to defy them.”

“This isn’t a dragon clan,” Sandra said through clenched teeth.

“But your friend was raised in one,” Helen said gently. “You have to understand, Matriarchs are a symbol of authority. Even if she openly defied Lady Aubrey, she stands no chance of winning in a fight.”

“Right, because that damn Call thing or whatever it is Matriarch’s do. C’mon, you can’t convince me it’s that good that a non-Matriarch can’t do anything about it.”

“There are exceptions to every rule, but dragons aren’t quick to gamble their lives on a theory.”

“We should find the whelps,” Menrir said. “They’ve been gone too long.”

Sandra wanted to discuss it more. She hadn’t finished giving her partner a piece of her mind, but if any of those hatchlings hurt themselves while Aubrey was still around there was no telling how the Matriarch would react.

They found the scattered dragonlings amongst the various room, hiding under beds, behind furniture, or trying to dig through the floor. Menrir warned them baby dragons could not breathe fire at birth but were prone to biting when frightened, so they let her handle coaxing them out of their hiding places.

It was the second time Sandra saw a different side of her friend that day. Menrir usually talked about how she hated children, human or dragon, but seeing her talk gently to the hatchlings and even smile a few times felt eerie. The dragon rarely had a kind word for anyone.

After several minutes, they rounded up all the dragons and ushered them back into the main room. Helen offered to make them something to eat and headed to the kitchen. Sandra followed. Cooking wasn’t her forte but it gave her an excuse to get away from Menrir.

“Thank you for helping me,” Helen said. “Do you know what baby dragons like to eat? I’m afraid I’ve only served Lady Aubrey and she’s over a hundred years old.”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I’m new to this just like you.”

The woman nodded and began rummaging through the cabinets. “Well, something without bones in it would be ideal. They have teeth, but I don’t want to make something they have to chew.”

Sandra had no clue what that something could be so she leaned against the wall out of the way and watched Helen work.

One thing she knew was she didn’t want to deal with the awkward silence again so she spoke up. “So, over a hundred, huh? Your friend must have some stories to tell. She got kids of her own?”

Helen hesitated to place a box on the counter. Her back was turned, but the slump of her shoulders told Sandra she likely hit a sore subject. “Actually, I don’t know. I never asked and she never mentioned it.”

“Maybe she had plans to with that friend of hers?”

“Her friend was a female so I doubt it.”

“Oh? Well, that explains it then.”

“Lady Aubrey is not—or I don’t think she is. She’s never talked about an interest in relationships.”

Sandra frowned. “Do you know anything about the dragon I’m assuming you spent most of your life with?”

“I know she’s passionate and caring. I know I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for her. That’s all I need to know.”

“Yeah, passionate.” She rubbed her chest, fingering the holes in her shirt. “So what about that friend of hers?”

Helen took down a large bowl and begin filling it with gathered ingredients. “She was a dragon, a domesticate. She was so sweet and kind. She cared about others as much as Lady Aubrey did. They had such big plans for the dragon community. But then her caretaker killed her.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She began mixing the ingredients in the bowl with more aggression than Sandra thought needed. The wrinkle in her brow further commented on the bridled rage.

“He says it was self-defense, but I knew her. She wasn’t violent and that foul, controlling, uncaring monster had her wrapped around his finger! She wouldn’t have attacked him.”

“Actually, I can believe she did,” Sandra said. “If he had a tight leash on her, she probably snapped.”

Helen’s stirring increased in intensity but she said nothing. The muscles in her arms and hands strained as if she were trying to squeeze the bowl and spoon out of existence. Sandra took that as her cue to change topics again.

“So what are your plans with these baby dragons?”

The woman relaxed and her stirring slowed. “Lady Aubrey believes dragons are either too rooted in their old ways to adapt to life in the Human Territories or domesticates who are raised to be submissive and obedient. She aims to change that.”

“How’s she gonna change that?” She didn’t like what Helen was implying, but to get the full story, she had to tread carefully. Like it or not, she was stuck with Aubrey.

“By teaching these dragons to think for themselves and treat each other with kindness.”

“Strange words coming from the dragon who called me a puppet.”

“She didn’t mean it. This entire situation angers her. She doesn’t like being ordered about or left in the dark.”

That comment made Sandra straighten up. “Wait, she’s taking orders from Lanry, too?”

“Well, not Lanry specifically, but his Matriarch, yes. Lady Aubrey was instructed to come here and help you. She does want to help these dragons but she doesn’t like being a pawn in someone’s game.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling. The only reason I have these eggs is because someone tricked us into taking them. Hey, can you manage the rest of this? I need to check something.”

Helen nodded and Sandra left the kitchen. Now that no one was looking, she let out a shuddering breath as goosebumps sprouted along her body.

A Matriarch who can command other Matriarchs? Who the fuck has that kind of pull? It didn’t bode well. Aubrey didn’t seem the type to take orders, period. If someone told the dragoness “Look out!” it wouldn’t end well for them, but whoever this was had even her dancing in their palm. They were not only well-connected but well-paid.

Every month, they received an “anonymous” donation. She had tried tracing the money back to its source, but even after exhausting every resource, all she found was a wall of silence. No description, no hints, not even a name. She started to think whoever this dragon was didn’t exist.

But this mysterious Matriarch made a mistake; she put Sandra and Aubrey in the same room, two people who hated being used like puppets, and now they have a common enemy. She needed to convince Aubrey of that.

The first place Sandra went was the main room to see if Aubrey had returned. The only adult dragon in the room was Menrir. She lay on the floor, surrounded by baby dragons who climbed and played on her body as if she were furniture.

Sandra was surprised to see a smile on the dragoness’s face as she looked at the hatchlings moving about.

Maybe she’s not the only one who doesn’t know the dragon she hangs around.

She shook off the thoughts and headed outside. It didn’t take long to find Aubrey hanging around the back of the orphanage. The Matriarch sat on the grass, staring at the sky.

“Finished your inspection yet?” Sandra asked.

Aubrey continued staring at the sky and responded, “I will finish when I’m satisfied and not a moment sooner, human.”

“My name is Sandra. I don’t call you ‘dragon’, the least you can do is show me the same respect.”

Aubrey faced her and for the first time, there was humility in her eyes. “Forgive me. It seems in my frustration, I’ve forgotten my manners.”

“That Matriarch who put all this together, right?” To the Ravager’s shocked expression, she added, “Yeah, she got us by the balls, too. I was hoping we could do something about that.”

“I’m listening.”

“How about we team up? I don’t know what this dragon is plotting, but I don’t think her interests align with ours. We need to deal with her before she does something to those dragons in there.”

Aubrey nodded and turned back to the sky. “Do you understand what you are implying? We’ll be going to war with a dragon we know nothing about.”

“I came to you, didn’t I? I’m not waiting around for her to come back shove her thumb up my ass and make me dance to her tune again. I’m pretty sure you don’t want that either.”

“Tell me, why should I trust you any more than I trust that Matriarch?”

“Don’t trust me. I don’t really care. Just trust that I hate that bitch just as much as you do.”

“That is an excellent point. However, I refuse.”

“But—”

“Make no mistake, I despise this Matriarch just as much as you, however, I cannot and will not condone any activity that puts those young dragons at risk.” She leaned forward, her gaze serious and focused. She spoke every word slowly, annunciating each syllable. “So long as this place is standing, it shall be a target.”

Sandra nodded slowly, a tight knot forming in her gut. Whether it was Aubrey’s intent or not, the message was clear: this sanctuary couldn’t remain if they were going to go to war. They just didn’t have the numbers to protect it. Which meant to get Aubrey on board, this place had to go.

It made sense when she thought about it. This place was owned and maintained by the very dragon they planned to defy. If they were going to be in this, they had to be in it all the way.

“And if this place wasn’t standing?” Sandra asked. “Would you join then?”

“These dragons will need a home if that happens.”

“How do dragons handle orphans across the border?”

Aubrey turned to her shock with a look of shock. “Of course. Such a simple solution and yet I failed to realize it. Very well. I will join forces with you under one condition.”

“Name it.”

“I want you to bring someone to me. Alive. His name is Zachery Bachmann and he lives in Rubellum.”

It wasn’t the request she expected to hear, but it sounded simple enough. Though it did bother her a little that her first partnership required doing something potentially illegal. The emphasis on alive told her he likely wouldn’t come quietly and wasn’t aware of his invitation.

“Before I agree to anything, I need to know who he is to you and why you want him kidnapped.”

Aubrey’s expression darkened as that familiar rage relit in her eyes. “Why does it matter?”

“It matters because the last time I did a job without asking too many questions, I was set up. I’d rather not do it again.”

“Then refuse my offer.”

Sandra rolled her eyes. This was why she hated negotiating with dragons. They never bend. “So where am I taking him? I’d rather not have to drag him all the way back here.”

“No, you will take him to my home. Helen will give you the address. Now, I ask you to leave me in peace. I wish to be alone.”

****

Thanks to her old mercenary work, Sandra got to travel quite a bit. But she ever rarely visited Rubellum. The place also felt a little unreal as if it hid its true nature. Like an awkward family gathering where everyone pretended to like each other. She had enough of that during he childhood and didn’t want an encore performance in her adult life.

But now here she was again in the city of lies. Thankfully, she wasn’t staying. Once they grabbed Zachery Bachmann, they were heading straight home.

Aubrey had a surprising amount of information on the man already. Where he lived, his favorite hangouts, his work schedule, and even his most trusted staff. It saved her a great deal of work and reconnaissance.

But it also increased Sandra’s incertitude. If Aubrey had this much on the man, why did she need a third party to do the wet work? She supposed she should have brought that up before they headed out, but the thought hadn’t crossed her mind then and now she was paying for it.

Dragons weren’t known for being liars. But dragons weren’t above being sneaky were they? That was a lesson she learned the hard way.

“Stop pacing,” Menrir said. “It’s getting on my nerves.”

Sandra stopped and faced the grey dragoness in the corner. “Well excuse me for ruining your beauty sleep, my queen. Some of us are actually worried about this job.”

“If you’re so worried then why’d you agree to it?”

She didn’t have a response for that, so she silently flagged off the question and dropped into the nearby chair. It didn’t take long before she began tapping her foot. All this waiting around was getting to her, but they had to wait until dark before making their move.

It surprised her to hear Menrir break the silence. “So, about what happened with Aubrey…I should’ve had your back and I didn’t. It won’t happen again.”

Sandra’s mouth hung open. Menrir never apologized for anything. Realizing that her partner was watching her, likely waiting for a response, Sandra recomposed herself and replied, “It’s cool. I’m not a dragon so I don’t get this Matriarch stuff. I’m guessing it’s complicated.”

Menrir nodded slowly. “It is. You don’t defy a Matriarch. Not unless you’re prepared to pay for it.”

“Sounds like you guys have a pretty rough. You’re stuck with a leader you can’t say no to.”

The dragoness shook her head. “It’s not as bad as humans try to make it out to be. A Matriarch has to look after her clan or she won’t be in charge for long.”

Silence again. Sandra looked out the window. The sun was getting close to setting, so they had a few hours left before it was time. To pass the time and occupy her thoughts, she asked Menrir about what it was like growing up in a dragon clan.

Normally, the Stormborne was quiet about her past or gave very curt responses, but she gave a very thorough explanation about her old life.

Sandra learned dragons weren’t raised in individual families. They hatched together, learned together, ate together, and slept together. Several adults, called nestwatchers, were responsible for feeding, teaching them history and the clan rules, and caring for the sick and injured. But mostly, it was the older whelps who spent the most time with the hatchlings, playing with them and teaching them how to hunt.

It surprised her to learn dragons were very protective of their young. She always assumed they took a more hardcore, learn-through-pain approach. But whelps were forbidden to venture into the wild until their wings had fully developed and they completed their rites, at which point, they were considered “adults” and allowed to do as they pleased.

“So what these rites?” Sandra asked.

“Depends. Different clans do different things. Mine had the Earning of the Wing.”

“How’s that work?”

“They drop you off a cliff and you have to fly back up.”

Sandra suddenly felt sick. “And what happens if you don’t?”

Menrir slapped the floor with a forepaw and made a splat sound.

“That’s horrible! I thought they cared about their children!”

The dragoness’s eyes turned cold. “They do care. They care a whole damn lot. But a weak dragon doesn’t live long.”

Sandra didn’t agree, but she decided to leave it alone. It wasn’t her place to judge and it was obvious Menrir had some strong feelings about it. She couldn’t help but wonder what was going through her partner’s mind during her trial. How she felt knowing she succeeded while some of the dragons she grew up with had failed.

I get the point, but that’s a cruel lesson to learn at a young age.

“Look, I don’t care if it is part of your culture or not, we’re not putting our dragons through that.”

Menrir chuckled. “ ‘Our’ dragons? Attached to the little buggers already?”

“Oh, like you aren’t. I saw you smiling when you were alone with them. I’d never seen you so happy.”

Menrir quickly turned away and Sandra wondered if her little jab hadn’t crossed a line.

Before she could apologize, the dragoness looked out the window and said, “It’s time. Let’s go.”

Sandra nodded silently and reached for their bag of supplies. The bag wiggled and a small hiccup emanated from it.

She rolled her eyes and upended the bag. Probably a cat or something crawled into it while they were waiting. It was uncommon for something to try such a bold act with a dragon around, but hunger often outweighed safety.

What she didn’t expect to see was a baby Ravager come tumbling out onto the floor. The dragonling gave a surprised yelp that quickly turned into a giggle as he rolled onto his back and kicked the air.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” Menrir said. “He’s been in there this whole time?”

“How did we not notice him?” Sandra asked. “That bag hasn’t moved at all.”

“He was probably sleeping this whole time. But we’ll worry about him later.”

Sandra picked the babbling baby dragon off the floor. He nuzzled her chest and let out a content sigh. “Well, what are we gonna do with him? We can’t take him with us.”

“We don’t have a choice. We gotta finish the job. Taking him back will take too long. Look, you go get the human, I’ll watch the whelp.”

Sandra didn’t like that plan, but Menrir had a point, they didn’t have an option. Menrir agreed to fly her there but would hang back just in case their newest member became rowdy. Rubellum didn’t have any laws against flying which made it easy to reach the Bachmann house. To mask their approach, they circled around and landed in the back.

The back door was unlocked and she blessed her luck. That was one less task she didn’t have to worry about. Thanks to Aubrey, they had the full layout of the place, so she went straight for Zachery’s bedroom. Between worrying about stumbling into someone who woken up in the middle of the night and stepping on a squeaky floorboard, Sandra felt like a tightly wound spring. Each step took a great deal of effort and twice as much to keep quiet about it.

It didn’t help this house gave her the creeps. She didn’t believe in spirits, but the place felt restless. A heavy tension hung in the air like the watchful glare of an angry opponent. The house didn’t feel like a welcoming place, but rather something people lived in. No decorations, no personal touches. Only things that served a purpose, placed in convenient locations.

Usually, Menrir was watching her back; they never went on jobs alone. Now she had to be mindful of everything herself. Every shadow, every corner, every door and window. She nearly made herself dizzy she checked her surroundings so much.

Getting upstairs was the hardest part. Stairs often creaked or made noise. But she had to go this way. She took each step slowly, deliberately holding her breath until her foot touched solid floor and no resounding creak broke her cover. After several tense minutes, she reached the top without incident. Still, she never felt so nervous in her life.

The rest of the bedroom was more of the same, tense, but uneventful. It made her more nervous as if the world held its breath in anticipation. Waiting for what, she didn’t know but the silence was getting to her. It would be so much easier if Zachery snored.

She slowly pushed open the bedroom door, a cloth gag in one hand and a length of rope in the other. Moonlight through the window shone directly on the bed, illuminating her prize.

She took two steps inside and her head exploded in pain. Everything around her blurred into wavering shadows as she went down. Her head rang like a bell at noon.

“Oh, looks like I’m not the only one with an appointment with Zachery,” a mysterious voice said. She couldn’t pinpoint their voice. Every word sounded garbled as if spoken underwater.

Sandra grunted and tried to get up, but a gentle force pushed her back down. Was Zachery dead? Did he get away in time? She had to see for herself.

“Don’t get up. Killing you isn’t in the contract and I don’t get paid by the body. Now be a good girl and mask my escape, will you?”

She couldn’t move. It was still hard to see. The most she could make out was a pair of boots approaching. Another pain exploded in her temple and she knew no more.

****

Sandra opened her eyes to a brightly lit room. It hurt her eyes so she closed them again, groaning softly.

A pleased squeal sounded in her ear before something cool and smooth rubbed her cheek.

The feeling vanished and was followed by Menrir’s voice. “Leave her.”

Sandra opened her eyes again. This time the large form of the dragoness blocked the light, making it easier. Sitting on her legs was the baby Ravager. He looked at her with wonder and happiness, tail wagging furiously.

She slowly sat up and took in her surroundings. She lay in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. The decoration was too residential to be a hospital, but it was also too cozy to be any safehouse she had ever been in.

“It’s your room,” Menrir explained as if reading her thoughts. “Aubrey got us a house.”

“That’s awfully nice of her.”

“She gave it to us so we can visit the dragons whenever we want.”

“Wait, what? Did I sleep all the way back?!”

The baby Ravager trotted over and nuzzled her, a soft whine emanating from the dragon as if sensing her distress. She gently stroked his back and shushed him.

“No, we’re still in Rubellum,” Menrir said bitterly. “Aubrey had the dragons moved here when we left. They’re on their way now.”

“Sneaky little bitch, isn’t she?”

“Actually, she said you agreed to it.”

She couldn’t respond. Her throat seemed to lock up as she was caught between shock and rage. Aubrey had likely planned this from the beginning. The dragon just needed an excuse to get her away from the orphanage.

Menrir broke the silence. “Anyway, Zachery’s dead. I saw his body when I came in to pull you out.”

“Yeah, they nearly put me down, too. Smug bastard.”

“Did you see anything?”

Sandra shook her head and the door opened. Aubrey stepped inside, her expression neutral. The baby Ravager burrowed under Sandra’s arm.

“I see you’ve awoken,” Aubrey said. “How are you feeling?”

“Angry. Confused. You moved the dragons without telling me.”

“I did say that they could no longer stay there if our alliance was to hold.”

“But I didn’t think you meant—”

“Then that is your mistake for failing to ask.”

She glowered at Aubrey while admiring the Matriarch’s tenacity. But that was the last time she would underestimate the wiliness of dragons.

Aubrey took advantage of the silence and spoke again. “Now, before you ask, no, I will not hold Zachery’s death against you. He was dead before you arrived; we had no way of knowing.”

“You didn’t mention anyone else would be trying to kill him,” Menrir said.

“I hadn’t considered it. I never thought his allies would consider him a loose end. But I should’ve expected that after his latest failure.”

“What failure?” Sandra asked. “What did you want with him anyway?”

Aubrey approached and sat next to the bed. “Zachery Bachmann was a monster who cared only about his increasing his wealth. The man was cruel and hated dragons. Such a combination made him the perfect candidate for those who run the egg trade.”

“Those bastards again,” Sandra said. “We’ve dealt with them before.” She suspected they played a role in the orphaning of the 29 baby dragons now in her care. The egg trade played a big role in the criminal underground and the mercenary market, but she never got involved in it. Even without a wyrm for a partner, she couldn’t condone such a thing.

“Then it’s a good thing we joined forces then,” Aubrey said. “I’m unsure when or why Zachery got involved, but he attempted to use his dragon to assist them. Unfortunately, Reks was murdered before those plans were put into motion.”

“You don’t sound very broken up about it,” Menrir said.

“Reks’ death is regrettable, but ultimately his sacrifice has helped domesticates in many ways. Which is likely what led to Zachery’s demise. The investigation has many looking into his finances and his personal doings. It was only a matter of time before his connection to the egg trade was unearthed.”

“If that’s true, then why’d you hire us to kidnap him?” Sandra asked.

“Because I only used the investigation to pressure him. In the end, I never expected him to cave unless under…special circumstances. It would seem his business partners came to that same conclusion.”

The baby Ravager hiding in Sandra’s armpit was becoming painful, so she fished him out of his hiding place and held him. “Which puts us right back at square one,” she said.

“Not quite. With Zachery dead and no heirs to claim his assets, it all likely falls to his brother. I’ve never met the man, but I hear Edward is the exact opposite of his brother.”

“And he’ll help us?”

“He isn’t getting an option.”

Sandra began to question entering this partnership. First moving the dragons behind her back and now this. The all-consuming fury had re-entered Aubrey’s eyes again. The baby Ravager squirmed in her grip.

“Until then, however, I have other leads to pursue,” Aubrey said. “I have it on good authority that our mysterious Matriarch is using the Marriette family to pursue her goals. We shall use them to draw her out.”

“We don’t have the numbers to take on the egg trade and this Matriarch,” Menrir said.

“No, our first concern is the Matriarch. She is a current threat that we can’t have looming over us. Which is why I had the whelps brought here. As the District Lord of Rubellum, I can oversee their protection and ensure they are raised properly.”

“Raised properly?”

“They’ll live in the Dragon District with their own kind. I believe it to be a mistake to raise them in a vacuum, otherwise they’ll suffer the same fate as domesticates, ignorant and dependent on their caretakers. Don’t worry, I shall personally oversee their education and ensure they do not remain ignorant like their clan-born brethren.”

“You’re clan-born yourself,” Menrir said.

Aubrey seemed unbothered by the remark. “Which is exactly my point. They cling to the old ways, shun domesticates, and expect humans to cater to their whims. They behave more like spoiled whelps dependent on a Matriarch than real dragons.”

Menrir said nothing. Sandra didn’t know enough about dragon culture to offer any comment, so she elected to stay out of it and continued stroking the dragon in her arms.

Aubrey took advantage of the silence and spoke again. “Now, I believe that covers everything. Focus on your recovery for now. We have many things to do.”

When the dragoness left, Sandra spoke. “I’m surprised she never mentioned the little guy here.”

“She doesn’t care,” Menrir said. “These dragons are just pawns for whatever world she’s trying to create. Felick may be lucky staying with us.”

“Who?” A sly smile spread across her face upon realizing Menrir’s words. “Naming him are we?”

“You wanna call him ‘whelp’ all his life?”

“No, Felick works for me. Isn’t that right little Felick?”

Felick grinned and warbled happily.

“How long before he starts talking? It’s so weird being around a dragon that doesn’t speak or boss me around.”

“A couple of years. Anyway, are we sure we want to get into things with Aubrey? I don’t like her.”

“We can’t abandon those dragons to her. Besides, I want to see the egg trade shut down as much as she does. If she can really help with that, it’ll be worth putting up with her bad attitude.”

Menrir said nothing. It was written on her face that something bothered her. That look was always worrying. The dragoness’s premonitions were usually right.

“What?” Sandra asked.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”