Chapter 11

ELEVEN

T alon watched lightning dance across Asher’s skin, his dragon practically preening at their mate’s rare ability. She’d gone from accidental transformation to controlling electrical energy in hours—a feat that should have been impossible. Yet there she stood, beautiful and fierce, making jokes about employee handbooks while casually wielding enough power to short out half his building.

“The council needs to convene immediately,” his father’s voice cut through Talon’s admiration. “I’m sure Dimitri is gathering forces now.”

“Now?” Asher’s electricity crackled in response to her irritation. “I just figured out how not to set things on fire. Mostly.” She glanced at the smoldering training dummy. “That one doesn’t count.”

His dragon rumbled in satisfaction at her sass—a direct challenge to centuries of stern council traditions.

“The council can wait,” he found himself saying, earning surprised looks from both families. Eight hundred years of rigid protocol, undone by one scientist with a talent for destruction and sarcasm.

“Did you just postpone a council meeting?” his sister Harlynn’s eyes sparkled. “For a woman? The same brother who once held a strategy session during his own birthday celebration?”

“The cake was tactical,” Talon muttered.

“The little dragons on it were tactical?”

“Fine. Family meeting.” Talon squeezed Asher’s hand before stepping back. “Boardroom in ten minutes. Try not to destroy any more training equipment.”

“No promises.” Asher grinned, then her expression softened. “Though I should probably learn to control this before I accidentally turn your boardroom into a light show. Which would be extremely unprofessional. Almost as unprofessional as how good you look right now.”

His dragon surged forward at her words, pushing against centuries of control. “Asher...”

“That voice should be illegal,” she informed him. “Especially when I’m trying to focus on not electrocuting things.”

Ten minutes later, Talon stood at the head of the room, trying to focus on security reports instead of how Asher’s scent lingered on his skin. The massive table, carved from ancient oak and inscribed with centuries of clan history, displayed camera footage feeds of Dimitri’s movements outside the building.

“Your brother’s forces have doubled since last month,” Levi reported, then caught himself. “Adopted brother.”

“Blood doesn’t matter,” his mom said sharply, pain flashing across her face. “We raised him as our own.”

“And he rejected every bit of love we gave him,” Harlynn muttered. “Along with centuries of clan protection.”

Talon’s jaw tightened. He remembered the day his parents had brought home the small, angry boy who’d lost everything to hunter attacks. How they’d welcomed him into their family without hesitation. How hard they’d tried to heal his trauma with love and acceptance.

“His choices are his own,” Eldric’s voice carried the weight of old grief. “But his threat to this clan—to your mate—must be addressed.”

“He’s targeting Asher specifically,” Mallory, his other sister, spoke up, her quiet voice drawing everyone’s attention. “The energy signatures... they’re focused on her lab, her home, anywhere she spends time.”

Talon’s dragon roared at the threat to their mate. The air around him shimmered with barely contained power.

“Of course, he is,” Harlynn’s lips twisted. “She represents everything he hates—human innovation, clan acceptance, a true bond.”

“He’s as real a Draker as any of us,” Nellie snapped, though her hands trembled slightly. “If he’d only accepted it.”

“Mother.” Talon gentled his voice. “Your love for him does you credit. But he made his choice long ago.”

“The day you were named heir,” Eldric added heavily. “Though we’d tried to show him that clan leadership isn’t about blood.”

“It’s about heart,” Asher’s voice came from the doorway. She stood there in training clothes, electricity still dancing across her skin, looking fierce and beautiful and his . “And from what I’m hearing, he rejected that gift pretty thoroughly.”

“You should be resting,” Talon said even as his dragon purred at her presence.

“Please. Your adopted brother’s throwing a tantrum that’s setting off every piece of lab equipment I own. Rest isn’t really an option.” Asher moved to stand beside him, her shoulder brushing his arm. “Also, your security team needs better coffee. They’re stress-drinking that break room sludge and it’s making my enhanced senses cry.”

A shadow crossed Nellie’s face at the casual mention of adoption. “We tried to give him everything—a home, a family, unconditional love...”

“But you can’t force someone to accept love,” Asher finished softly. “No matter how freely it’s given.”