I made my way back to the flight deck with my skyboard and flew over to the Star Lancer. The ship was nearly twice the size of the Crescent Moon and, frankly, uglier. Unlike SkyTeam’s sharp lines and angles, the Star Lancer looked like someone decided “bulbous” was the new “sleek.” No way my uncle would’ve let his company design something so… uninspired.

I skimmed along the ship’s top, quickly realizing it didn’t have a flight deck like the Crescent Moon. Lovely. After some searching, I found an open hanger bay as a personnel carrier was leaving and slipped inside. The flight deck, apparently too shy to be on top, was tucked away within the ship’s belly. How quaint.

As soon as I landed, I was surrounded by crew members with weapons drawn. Because, of course, that’s what I needed right now. I raised my hands, eyeing the group as I decided on my next move.

“Identify yourself!” one of them barked, rifle pointed directly at me.

“Alpha Acosta of the 781st Transportation Pack,” I announced, loud and clear.

“Never heard of you or the 781st Transportation Pack. Show us some ID,” the crewman demanded, his rifle unwavering.

I gave him a flat stare, then slowly turned my board to show him the Team Amethyst logo. “Does this qualify as identification?” I huffed.

“Could be a fake, or maybe you stole it,” he retorted.

Fantastic. Another overzealous guard with a stick up his ass. Before I could respond, another crew member spoke up.

“Uh, Lieutenant, she claimed to be an alpha, is holding a genuine Team Amethyst board, and her last name is Acosta. Plus, she looks like Lyra Acosta. That would make her a colonel.”

“Uh-huh, sure. She isn’t wearing a military uniform or anything that declares she’s military at all,” the lieutenant shot back.

I rolled my eyes. Of course, I had to run into someone who didn’t know who I was and took his job way too seriously.

“Sir, maybe we should radio this in and verify with the upper chain of command before we do something that will get our asses in a sling,” the reasonable crew member suggested.

“Shut your mouth, Sergeant. We’re taking this intruder to the brig and letting the upper brass handle it,” the lieutenant snapped.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and resisted the urge to throttle this idiot. “Why don’t you take your sergeant’s suggestion and radio Colonel Zaraki—or better yet, I can call General Zaraki. I’m sure he’d love to deal with a power-hungry lieutenant harassing one of his colonels… or better yet, his sister.”

“You don’t know General Zaraki. You’re bluffing,” the lieutenant sneered.

I caught a glimpse of a familiar figure landing behind the lieutenant. His scowl was practically carved in stone. The sergeant immediately snapped to attention while I grinned at the lieutenant.

“Why don’t you turn around and ask him yourself?” I suggested, my tone dripping with satisfaction.

The lieutenant furrowed his eyebrows, giving me a look of disdain. “Nice try. The General isn’t behind me.”

Cayro stepped up silently, stopping just a foot behind the lieutenant. “Oh? I’m not standing directly behind you?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

The lieutenant jumped a foot in the air, spinning around and snapping to attention so fast it was a wonder he didn’t pull a muscle.

“Sir!” the lieutenant stammered, his confidence evaporating faster than cheap cologne in a rainstorm.

“Shut it, lieutenant…” Cayro snapped, his voice as cold as a winter wind. “Sergeant, kindly escort Alpha Acosta to the medical bay. I sent her here to check on Major Stoneclaw and Sergeant Ironfist.”

“Yes, Sir!” the female sergeant responded crisply, saluting before motioning for me to follow. I brushed past the lieutenant, giving him a wink and a mock salute. He was in for a rough time now.

As we walked away, Cayro’s voice echoed through the hall, tearing the lieutenant a new one. I couldn’t help but smirk. Justice, sweet as honey.

The sergeant led me down several winding corridors and stairways until we finally reached the medical bay. She asked me to wait outside while she spoke with one of the nurses. A few moments later, she returned with a nurse who led me to a small waiting room. There, I found Stoneclaw sitting quietly, looking like he’d aged a decade in just a few hours. His usually stoic demeanor was overshadowed by a deep, gnawing worry.

I took a seat next to him, giving him a moment before he looked up at me.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly, trying not to intrude on his private turmoil.

“For the most part,” he replied, his voice hollow. “They’ve got Ironfist in surgery now. Had to rebreak some bones because he shifted while things were out of alignment… trying to keep himself from dying.”

“So, he’s going to live?” I asked, hoping for some good news.

“Yes, but he might never fly again. And depending on what the doctors can do… he might be permanently injured, with a limp.” Stoneclaw’s voice was a mixture of relief and despair, the latter weighing heavier.

“I’m sorry, Stoneclaw,” I said, my words inadequate but genuine.

“It wasn’t your fault. He sacrificed himself to protect the medical tent. One of those bastards tried to blow it up.” His words were laced with anger, but also with pride for Ironfist’s bravery.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I offered, my tone calm, though inside I felt the weight of his burden.

“Out of all the years I’ve served in special forces, we’ve never had a loss like this. This mission… it was a shit show from the start. Whoever planned it didn’t prepare us for what we were walking into,” he growled softly, frustration seeping into his words.

“General Zaraki agrees with you on that. He said something similar earlier when I spoke with him,” I said, trying to reassure him that his anger was justified.

“What’s he going to do about this mess?” Stoneclaw asked, his tone one of weary hope.

“He’s now in charge of the I-80 corridor recovery. Apparently, the military is pushing hard toward Salt Lake City, and this route is critical. The Chinese are advancing, and if they get to Salt Lake before we do… it could be catastrophic,” I explained.

“At least we’ve got someone in charge who knows what the hell they’re doing,” he huffed, a slight relief in his tone.

“Stoneclaw?” I hesitated, twisting my fingers as I tried to gather the courage to ask him what had been on my mind.

“Yes?” he replied, looking at me with curiosity.

I took a deep breath and finally spoke. “A few days ago, you mentioned that if you were a wolf, you’d join my pack. Were you serious?”

He paused, thinking it over, before nodding. “Yes, I was.”

“Your team has been invaluable to us. I feel like you and your team are already part of the pack. Would you consider making it official?” I asked, my voice quiet but steady.

“We’re technically already part of the pack, thanks to the President’s ‘wisdom,’” he replied, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“He assigned you to us, but the military can pull you away at any time. If you were official members, the military couldn’t just split us up. Lycotonu made that clear when the draft was implemented. If one pack member is needed, the whole pack goes as a unit,” I explained.

“Huh, I didn’t know that. We’ve been split up before for missions, and we couldn’t do anything about it. Just had to follow orders, whether we liked it or not,” he remarked, a new understanding dawning on him.

“Officially joining the pack would mean your team would fall under pack laws and regulations set by Lord Lycotonu for the FS Government,” I continued, meeting Stoneclaw’s gaze. “You’d get the same rights as we do.”

“Meaning my team and I wouldn’t be forced apart over missions, and we’d have the same freedoms as werewolves,” he said thoughtfully. “I’ve read the werewolf constitution. Out of all the supernaturals in the FS, the werewolves have the most organized laws and freedoms.”

“Yes,” I confirmed, nodding.

He leaned back, considering. “What roles would we hold? Dragons are inherently stronger than wolves. Based on dominance and strength, I could easily take over as the pack alpha.”

“Technically, that’s true,” I admitted. “If we were following older traditions. But Zak—Lord Lycotonu—has been pushing packs to move away from ‘might is right.’ He believes in alphas who care for their pack, who lead with empathy and understanding rather than brute force.”

“So, you’re building a pack based on trust and respect, not fear and coercion?” he asked, a note of curiosity in his voice.

“Exactly. There’s one pack in the Free States that’s already doing this. They’ve moved away from traditional rankings and focus on collective goals,” I explained.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“What pack is that?” His curiosity deepened.

“The SkyTeam Pack,” I replied. “Director Staroko places his members where they can do the most good for the company, regardless of dominance. It’s the third-largest, most successful pack in the world, and one of the healthiest and wealthiest per individual.”

I leaned back in my chair, letting him absorb that information. The sounds of nurses and doctors moving about in the background served as a steady reminder of the gravity of our situation. Despite the chaos, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm in discussing the future of our pack.

“Where would my dragons fit into the pack if we agreed to join?” Stoneclaw asked, his tone serious.

“I haven’t really thought about strict pack ranks,” I admitted, looking up at the ceiling as if the answer might be written there. “You and your team are specialists in combat and strategy. Pixiewolf excels at pathfinding and military coordination. Mac’s a top-notch mechanic, and Steve manages operations and pack organization. We all bring something unique to the table, and we all share a common goal.”

Stoneclaw nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “That makes sense. It sounds less stressful than what we’ve been dealing with.”

“Let me know what your team thinks,” I said, standing up and offering him a small, sincere smile. “We’ll figure it out together.”

He gave a thoughtful nod. “I will. Thanks, Lyra.”

I smiled and left the waiting room, feeling the weight of the conversation. As I stepped out into the hallway, the reality of what still needed to be done pressed down on me. I headed back to the camp, letting the familiar routine of leadership and planning occupy my thoughts.

The next morning brought a sense of cautious optimism. The battle was behind us, but its echoes lingered as we spent the day reorganizing the camp, transferring prisoners, and clearing the interstate. Cameron’s beta had approached me in his stead, requesting the use of some larger vehicles for the barricade they were building across the I-76 bridge. Cameron himself, however, kept his distance.

I couldn’t blame him. Last night, I’d ripped into him with the full force of years of bottled-up anger and grief. Seeing him again had torn open an old wound that had never fully healed. I’d lashed out, mixing my unresolved feelings for Cameron with the trauma my father had inflicted on me. It was easier to see him as another person who had let me down, rather than acknowledge the walls I’d built around my heart.

As I walked towards the Crescent Moon for the dinner Cayro had planned, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d been too harsh. Cameron hadn’t deserved the full brunt of my anger, but at the time, it had felt justified. Now, in the cold light of day, I realized I’d been unfair. But what was done was done. All I could do now was move forward and try to heal the rift between us—or at least, try to understand where we both stood.

When it boiled down to it, I was emotionally broken and closed off toward Cameron back then. Being forced into the role of alpha had begun to open my eyes, showing me what it truly meant to care for and cherish those around me. My father, as an alpha, had taught me one thing—I would never use my alpha abilities for my own benefit. My uncle had been right when he said the people he picked for this group needed a leader like me. They needed someone who would empathize with them and care about them. Each one of them had a story to tell, and they would share it when they were ready. If there was one thing I knew about my uncle, it was that he knew exactly where to place people where they were needed most.

I sat in the driver’s seat of my truck, watching the soldiers and airmen work. We had moved the rigs off to the side of the camp so the units had room to set up the equipment the ships had brought. We were rolling out the next morning, heading back to Des Moines to finish the upgrades on the trucks and wait for our next mission. Now that we were a military unit, I had a strong feeling we'd be the spearhead pushing further into the I-80 corridor.

I was pretty certain, actually. We were uniquely equipped to handle brunt force attacks and push through whatever lay ahead. The problem with this mission was that we had expected a smoother trip. We were ill-prepared, lacked firepower, and the planning had been shoddy at best. I wouldn’t let that happen again. Next time, we’d be ready for first contact. With top-of-the-line gear and trucks, I had the confidence to handle whatever came our way.

A knock at my door made me jump in my seat, startling the fur out of me. I had been so lost in thought that I hadn’t seen anyone approach my truck. Looking out of my driver-side window, I saw Stoneclaw standing there, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

Found it funny scaring the alpha, did he? I’ll show him funny. Just wait.

I opened the door and looked down at him. “What’s up, Stoneclaw?”

“Do you mind if I have a moment of your time to talk?” he asked, his tone serious.

“Of course,” I answered, beginning to climb out of my truck.

“Actually, Lyra, I’d like it to be private,” he quickly added.

“Uh, okay.” I shifted to the passenger seat, opening the door wider so he could climb in and sit down.

Without another word, he climbed into my cab and settled in the driver’s seat, taking a moment to glance around. His eyes lingered on the mess in the sleeper, clothes and items haphazardly stuffed in different areas. I had planned to straighten it up after dinner, but now I wished I’d done it sooner.

“Please ignore the mess. It’s been a long few days,” I said, blushing in embarrassment.

“You should see our JLTVs—they look worse,” he joked.

“Have you guys been sleeping in them?” I asked.

“No, we’ve been taking turns shifting into our dragon forms and sleeping in the woods or in the quarry next to the camp,” he replied.

“You could have said something! The other trucks have a second bunk. We could’ve given you a place to sleep,” I exclaimed.

“Lyra, we’re dragons. We’re used to sleeping outside. Our human forms are secondary for us. We aren’t weredragons where our human form is our main, everyday form, and our dragon form is secondary,” he explained.

“Really?” I queried, genuinely curious. “I figured you were more like werewolves or other changelings, where the human form is primary.”

“Nooo. In fact, we aren’t even technically from this plane of reality. The closest beings akin to us would be Dr. Zaraki and his family. They aren’t technically dragons, but they’re the closest living beings in this reality to our kind,” he answered.

“If you’re not from our reality, then where are you from?” I questioned, furrowing my eyebrows.

“The same reality that the chunk of land where old Washington D.C. used to be came from,” he replied.

“You mean you came through the tear that occurred during the Second Twilight Winter—the one that destroyed the nation’s capital?” I asked, awe creeping into my voice.

“No, we were ripped from our reality during the First Twilight Winter. My thunder and I were just a group of adolescents out hunting and playing when a tear opened up and pulled us, a huge chunk of land, and other creatures out of our reality into yours. We found ourselves in the middle of a desert, which we now know as Iraq, with no sign of our families,” he explained.

“Wow… I had no idea,” I said, processing the magnitude of his story.

“Believe it or not, it was Dr. Zaraki who found us. He’d come to investigate what had happened after sensing a shift in the earth’s ley lines. If it wasn’t for Darkhide trusting the old bastard, we would’ve probably ended up as research experiments by the U.S. Military,” he continued.

I gave him a quizzical look as I grabbed my bottle of water, taking a sip. I didn’t recognize the name he mentioned.

“Darkhide is the dragon Dr. Zaraki adopted—Star’s older brother. He was the youngest among us and needed someone to look after him. He changed his name when Dr. Zaraki agreed to adopt him,” Stoneclaw explained, noticing my confusion.

“If he was the youngest, how did he become the group leader?” I asked, curious.

“Good question. He was taught by Dr. Zaraki and quickly learned how to blend in with humans. Once he was old enough, he came to find us and taught us how to do the same. From there, we decided to join the military with Dr. Zaraki’s help,” Stoneclaw replied.

“Damn, sounds like your life has been pretty chaotic,” I stated, marveling at their journey.

“That’s one way to put it. For years, we had to stay hidden in our human forms. Which brings me to why I wanted to talk to you,” he said, his tone shifting.

“Oh? What’s on your mind?” I asked.

“It’s not about what we need, per se, but what you’re offering. I spoke with the others this morning about what we discussed,” he replied.

I leaned back, arching an eyebrow. I hadn’t expected him to get back to me so soon—I figured it would take more time for them to decide.

“I thought you guys would take more time to decide,” I remarked.

“In most cases, we would have. But with Ironfist’s condition, he’s no longer capable of being part of a special forces unit. We spent a few hours discussing it among ourselves and with Darkhide. He came up with a counterproposal that we thought we should run past you,” he explained.

“What’s the proposal?” I asked, intrigued.

“We don’t want to give up being special forces. We’re damn good at it, and our team is well-known for handling some hairy missions. But you offer us something that protects us as a group. We’re a thunder, which means we’re family. We don’t want to be forced apart because some of us are needed somewhere else,” he said, his voice resolute.

“So, you want to join the pack?” I asked, trying to understand where he was going with this.

“Yes and no. We’d like to use the pack as our home base and be permanently attached to it. But if we’re needed for our abilities as a special forces unit, we want to be able to go on those missions,” he replied.

“Alright, how do you propose that would work?” I asked cautiously, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m what you would call the alpha of our thunder. What Darkhide suggested was that you and I create a bond that links my thunder and your pack together. Essentially, we’d agree to be supporting allies of each other. We’d help each other in times of need,” he explained, watching my reaction.

“That’s an interesting idea. It actually makes a lot of sense. But how would that work on the military side of things?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

“That’s the trick. The pack would act as our parent unit. Technically, we’d be members of the pack by proxy. Once you and I bond, it makes the thunder part of the pack through me and the bonds we share,” Stoneclaw explained.

“Ah, a loophole. But what happens if you’re requested for a mission? Wouldn’t the entire pack have to go?” I pointed out, still trying to wrap my head around the logistics.

“Not necessarily. The regulations give the alpha the choice to send the whole pack or just a portion to support the mission, while preventing the military from tearing a pack apart for manpower,” he clarified.

“Oh!” I exclaimed, realizing I had a lot to learn about these regulations.

“Yep,” he said with a grin.

“I don’t see a problem with this proposal,” I said, considering the benefits.

“Do you have any concerns about it?” he asked, watching me carefully.

“No, it makes a lot of sense, and we both benefit from it,” I replied, shifting in my chair as I thought about the potential.

“How do we go about making this bond?” I asked, ready to move forward.

“Darkhide explained that since your pack would be the parent unit, you’d have to bond me to your pack first. Then I’d bond you to the thunder. This would make us loyal to each other’s groups,” he explained.

“Alright, do you want to do the bond now, or would you prefer to do it with everyone present?” I asked.

“I think we should do it at the dinner, in front of everyone and the General. That way, it’s witnessed by the chain of command,” he suggested.

I nodded, glancing out the windshield. A transport was landing in front of the rigs, signaling it was time for us to head to the Crescent Moon.

“Looks like our ride is here,” I pointed out.

“Yep,” he remarked, climbing out of my truck.

As we walked toward the personnel carrier, Stoneclaw looked down at me with a grin. I narrowed my eyes, trying to figure out what had him so amused.

“What?” I asked, suspicion creeping into my tone.

“I’m just trying to figure out how such a small woman handles such a massive machine,” he remarked playfully.

I shot him a sharp look, “Are you making fun of how I’m vertically challenged?”

“Not at all. I’m more impressed. I saw how you handled that monstrosity back in York, Nebraska. You kicked ass,” he said with a smile.

“You’re damn right I kicked ass. I love being a flatbed truck driver. I get to do cool shit and be small and cute while doing it,” I said with a wicked grin.

“You’re right about one thing,” he said, smirking.

“And what’s that?” I demanded, arching an eyebrow.

“You are cute,” he said with a wink before stepping into the personnel carrier.

I froze, staring after him as he vanished inside. Someone slammed into my back, jolting me forward. I spun around to see Mac glaring daggers at the personnel carrier.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, genuinely confused.

“Did he just call you cute and wink?” she demanded, her tone sharp enough to cut steel.

“Uh, yeah, he did,” I replied, still processing it myself.

She let out a screeching snarl, the tips of her hair sparking with barely contained fury. My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Why was she so mad at Stoneclaw? It was just a harmless bit of flirting, right? I watched Mac storm into the personnel carrier, muttering under her breath. Realizing she might do something reckless, I quickly chased after her. The last thing we needed was for her to lose her temper while we were airborne.