The sun streamed through a crack in my sleeper curtain, a beam of light piercing the quiet cocoon of my truck. I groggily rubbed the sleep from my eyes, only to feel an arm tighten around my chest. Turning over, I was met with the sight of Mac still asleep beside me, her face softened in rest. The realization that she had spent the night with me felt both foreign and... strangely comforting. I never got past first base with Cameron, but here I was skipping first and second base going straight to third with Mac. Here I was waking up with Mac, skipping right to a level of intimacy I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

Chewing the inside of my cheek, I gently disentangled myself from her hold, careful not to wake her. The cab felt a little too small as I slid into the driver's seat, the weight of the morning settling on my shoulders. My phone flashed the time—eight in the morning. With a yawn that nearly cracked my jaw, I reached into the fridge for a can of Red Bull, my eyes catching movement outside.

Through the windshield, I saw Azura and Ironfist in the yard. They were setting up a skyboard together, both dressed in their PT gear. I watched as Azura offered Ironfist the board, a huge smile lighting up her face. He looked a bit nervous as they took off, flying low around the yard. The sight of them, so wrapped up in their own world, brought a smile to my face, easing some of the tension I’d been carrying.

The sound of Mac stirring pulled my attention back inside. She climbed out of my bed and settled into the passenger seat beside me.

"Did you sleep well?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.

She nodded, then looked away, her cheeks tinged pink. "I haven't slept that well in ages," she admitted, then quickly added, "I'm sorry, Lyra..."

My brow furrowed. "Why are you sorry?"

"Because... because I'm crushing on you and have feelings for you," she confessed, her tone straightforward, almost defiant, as if daring me to reject her.

I reached out, offering her my hand. "I know," I said softly.

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she took my hand. "I wasn’t sure if you would reciprocate the feelings."

I exhaled slowly, choosing my words carefully. "I've never really had a real relationship before. The one time I seriously considered it, I got left behind."

"You’ve never dated before?" Mac asked, genuinely shocked.

I shook my head. "Not unless you count hanging out with someone you considered a close friend as dating."

“Are you referring to Cameron Balfour?”

“Yeah… He was the closest I ever came to dating. But in the end, he left. So, I figured if I was meant to be with someone, I would have met them by now.”

“That’s deep,” she replied, her voice softening.

I turned my gaze back out the windshield, feeling the weight of the past pressing down on me. "I’m not going to lie or pretend with you, Mac. I’m broken, and I have no idea what I’m doing. I get that you like me and want to try and be with me, but I come with baggage. A lot of it."

"What are you getting at, Lyra?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

"If you’re looking for something easy and perfect, I’m not it. This… whatever this is… it’s going to take work, patience. On both sides."

Before I could say anything more, Mac cupped my face in her hands and kissed me, her lips warm and insistent. It wasn’t a gentle kiss; it was full of need, of pent-up emotion. When she finally pulled away, I was left breathless, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Who said I wanted easy?" Mac whispered, a small smile playing on her lips. "Wolves gossip, Lyra. I’ve heard the stories. That doesn’t change how I feel about you. Stop doubting yourself because of your past. You’re a strong, tough woman—a gods damn alpha. That’s what’s attractive to me."

I didn’t know how to respond. My mind was reeling from the kiss, from her words. When I finally looked out the windshield, horror washed over me. Steve, Catalina, and Stoneclaw were standing outside, all watching with varying degrees of amusement. Catalina and Steve had matching mischievous grins, while Stoneclaw raised an eyebrow, his expression questioning.

I slumped in my seat, trying to hide my burning face. Mac, finally noticing our audience, let loose a string of curses that could have made Mr. Bracton proud. She sank into her seat, but the damage was done. Steve strolled over to the truck and pulled open the driver’s door before I could even think to lock it.

“It’s too late now, Lyra. All three of us saw you and Mac kiss,” Steve declared with a mischievous grin as I futilely tried to close the driver’s door.

“Steve!” I squeaked in dismay, trying to muster up some semblance of authority. “You’re not playing fair!”

“You didn’t play fair with Catalina and me, so payback is a bitch,” he chuckled, his voice laced with devious satisfaction.

I groaned in frustration just as Stoneclaw opened the passenger side door, his expression one of amused knowing. Mac, clearly eager to escape, quickly climbed out of the truck, her face flushed. She made a hasty retreat toward the shop, leaving me alone to face the music.

As Stoneclaw turned to leave, I caught a glimpse of something dark and stormy in his eyes—something unsettling. But before I could ask, he was gone, leaving me with Steve and Catalina, who were both waiting for me at the driver’s side with expectant looks.

“What?” I growled, more out of embarrassment than actual irritation.

Steve’s eyebrows shot up in mock surprise, while Catalina’s grin turned even more devious.

“At least Catalina and I had enough sense to be discreet,” Steve teased.

“I don’t want to hear you or Mac ever using that bit of blackmail you and she have on us,” Catalina added, her tone playful but firm.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” I muttered, crossing my arms defensively.

“Good, because now we have blackmail as well,” she quipped, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

I huffed, feeling cornered. “And to think, I’ve been rooting for the two of you and defending your relationship,” I grumbled.

“Karma’s a bitch sometimes,” Steve interjected, his grin never fading.

I narrowed my eyes at him, debating whether or not to use Catalina as an armrest just to even the score. “What do you want?”

“You need to do a review of the trip before we head out,” Steve finally explained, getting to the point.

“You could’ve simply called,” I grumbled, trying to regain some dignity.

“I tried. It went straight to voicemail,” Catalina said, raising an eyebrow.

Furrowing my brow, I reached into my truck and grabbed my phone. Sure enough, the Do Not Disturb icon was activated. I shot a glare at my tablet.

“Scuzball, did you set my devices to Do Not Disturb?” I demanded.

“Well, who the hell else would’ve done it?” he retorted with his usual sass.

I shrugged at Steve, who simply shook his head with a smirk. That explained everything.

“Grab your go bag and uniform. We’ve got breakfast waiting, and you could use a shower,” Catalina said with a smile, steering the conversation back to practical matters.

Grumbling under my breath, I did as I was told. By the time I finished showering and dressing, it was nearly nine in the morning. Standing in front of the vanity mirror, I took a long look at myself. For the first time in over four years, I was wearing a military uniform again. The sight of the new insignia—a wolf’s head surrounded by a wreath, an M-4 rifle beneath it—on my chest made everything feel achingly real.

It was strange to see the colonel’s rank there, especially since I had last worn a uniform as a first lieutenant. The weight of that rank felt heavy, a reminder of all that had changed, and all that was yet to come.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I found Catalina and Steve preparing plates for everyone, working together so seamlessly it was like watching a well-rehearsed dance. I couldn’t help but notice the bond between them growing stronger, almost palpable. It wouldn’t be long before they were officially mated.

“When are the two of you going to just accept the inevitable and claim each other?” I asked, leaning against the doorway.

They both froze in place, staring at me as if I’d just suggested they elope on the spot. Catalina’s cheeks flushed pink, while Steve visibly swallowed, his usual confidence momentarily shaken.

“You would allow us to bond?” Steve asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

I gave him a flat stare, marching up to him with purpose. Without hesitation, I delivered a swift Gibb smack to the back of his head before snatching a plate of food. I stuffed a piece of gravy-covered biscuit into my mouth, chewing deliberately as he eyed me, clearly unsure whether he should defend himself or not.

Swallowing my food, I finally spoke, “Do I look like I give a damn about who you mate and bond with, Steve? You just caught me kissing Mac in my truck.” I huffed, my words laden with exasperation.

“But it’s not normal for wolves to bond outside of our race,” he retorted, his voice trailing off as if he knew he was on shaky ground.

“I don’t give a shit. Does she make you happy?” I demanded, fixing him with a stern gaze.

“Yes,” he sputtered, his tone more certain now.

“Catalina, does Fluffer Nutter here make you happy?” I asked, turning to her with an arched eyebrow.

“Yes,” she replied shyly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Then this is my approval,” I declared, turning on my heel and marching over to Mac’s workstation with my plate in hand.

As I approached the workstation, I found Stoneclaw leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, his gaze dark and stormy. What the hell had gotten under his scales? I met his eyes, but whatever was brewing behind them, he kept it locked away. Sitting down in Mac’s seat, I logged into my account and accessed the trip plan that Catalina and Steve had prepared, pushing thoughts of Stoneclaw’s mood to the back of my mind—for now.

The trip plan was thorough, with new satellite images of I-80 and the surrounding areas. The camp we had set up had nearly doubled, and it seemed Cameron and his pack had been busy. The westbound lanes of I-80 all the way to Salt Lake City seemed to be clear, a rare stroke of luck in these times.

I pulled up reports from Cameron’s pack and quickly scanned through them. They had scouted ahead into Wyoming, ensuring the path was clear. But once we reached Pine Bluffs, Wyoming, we’d be on our own. The Chaos Reckoning had orders to stay within Nebraska to secure the I-76 corridor.

As I reviewed the final details, one note caught my eye—something I’d missed yesterday. We were to meet the 77th Armored Regiment at the same location where we’d first encountered the dragons. Our job was to escort them through the I-80 corridor while also transporting the heavy supplies they needed. Each truck would be pushing close to one hundred and eighty thousand pounds, most of it ammunition for the field artillery and tanks. And those black crates… they still bothered me, but I wouldn’t know what was inside until we reached Salt Lake.

One by one, members of the fleet came in to grab food while I worked. They seemed to sense that today was a big deal, leaving me to focus without interruption. The weight of the responsibility was heavy, but I shouldered it with the same determination that had brought us this far.

At ten in the morning, everyone was in formation, uniformed and ready. I stood in front of them, giving them a rundown of our orders. The gravity of the situation was clear in their eyes, and I knew they were as ready as they could be. Once I finished, I ordered everyone to prepare the trucks and conduct their pre-trip inspections.

As I approached the gate, I noticed several Iowa State Highway Patrol units gathering. I met Officer Connor, the same officer from our first encounter with the highway patrol, who greeted me with a look of surprise.

“Good morning, Officer Connor,” I said, my tone professional and calm, though I could see his eyes widen slightly as he took in my uniform.

“Damn, Alpha Acosta, I didn’t believe you were really a colonel. I figured the FS military had pulled some strings to protect you and your fleet,” he admitted, clearly impressed.

“No, we really are a military unit,” I confirmed, leaning casually against one of the gate fence posts.

“I see that,” he replied, nodding slowly as he absorbed this new reality.

“So, you’ll be escorting us?” I asked, shifting the conversation back to the mission at hand.

“Yes, we’ve gathered twelve patrol units to shut down the route so that you and your team have a clear path to the Omaha gate,” he explained, his tone all business now.

“Are you guys ready?” I asked, the weight of the impending mission settling over me like a cloak.

“We’re ready whenever you are, Colonel,” he replied, his voice steady.

I gave him a nod and turned back toward my team, letting out a sharp whistle. Raising my index finger, I spun it in the air, signaling everyone to mount up. Climbing into my truck, I slipped on my headset. Mac climbed in seconds later, mirroring my actions before flashing me a thumbs up. The roar of engines filled the air as our fleet came to life. Mac had already connected my truck to the FRS and completed the pre-trip inspection, which was a relief. I returned her nod, checking my tablet to ensure everyone was showing green. Once confirmed, I activated our fleet-wide channel.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“RGN’s lead, flat decks follow. MCV will be in the middle behind the RGNs,” I ordered, my voice steady.

A unified woof echoed through the channel, acknowledging the command.

“Dragon Fleet… Let’s make some noise!” I barked with enthusiasm.

In an instant, the yard erupted in a symphony of airhorns, a battle cry that reverberated through the metal frames of our trucks. The pounding beat of Bang Bang by Hollywood Undead blasted from my speakers, but as I listened closer, I realized the sound wasn’t confined to my cab. I glanced at Mac, confusion flickering across my face.

She grinned mischievously and pointed to the roof of the truck. “Did you install external speakers on the trucks?” I shouted over the din.

Her vigorous nod and double thumbs up told me all I needed to know. I chuckled, shifting my truck into gear, feeling the surge of power beneath me. With a firm press of the accelerator, I led the charge out of the gate, our convoy rolling out with the force of a thunderstorm. The Iowa State Highway Patrol cars, lights flashing and sirens wailing, began shutting down the road ahead, clearing our path.

As we merged onto the ramp for I-35 South, the patrol cars ensured the lanes were completely ours. We barreled onto the interstate, music blaring at full blast, our engines roaring like the beasts they were. My truck surged forward, catching gears as the speedometer climbed—sixty miles per hour and still climbing.

By the time we hit I-80 West, Officer Connor’s voice crackled through the radio. Scuzball dimmed the music in my truck and patched me into the officer’s channel.

“Yes, Officer Connor,” I answered, adrenaline still pumping.

“Colonel Acosta, we’ve been given permission to let you and your team open up your trucks. Push them to the most prudent speed you can handle,” he announced.

A grin stretched across my face, wide and wild. Scuzball paused the music, and I relayed the news to the fleet.

“Dragon Fleet… Hammer down! We have permission to push our beasts to max speed!” I barked, my excitement palpable as I grabbed eighteenth gear.

Mac’s eyes went wide with anticipation, a grin matching mine spreading across her face. My analogue speedometer maxed out at eighty miles per hour, but Scuzball wasn’t about to let that limit the fun. A digital speedometer flashed onto my tablet, showing our true speed.

“Let’s see what these beasts can do!” I announced over the radio, a challenge as much as an order.

The fleet woofed in response, and I pushed my truck harder, feeling the surge of power as we shot down the highway. The needle on the analogue gauge hit eighty, but I knew we weren’t done yet. The digital display ticked up—eighty-five, ninety, ninety-five. The music kicked back in, this time Control by VNV Nation, as we rocketed past ninety miles per hour.

I exchanged a look with Mac, mouthing the words “triple digits,” and she nodded, her grin widening. As my rig crested one hundred miles per hour, I felt a thrill unlike any other. It was every trucker’s dream—pushing past the ordinary into the extraordinary. My rpms hovered just below two thousand five hundred, and I knew I couldn’t push much further without risking the engine.

I set the cruise control at one hundred and eight miles per hour, the truck humming beneath me, a beast unleashed on the open road.

With the adaptive suspension system in place, driving my rig felt more like gliding on air than tearing down the interstate at breakneck speeds. It was hard to believe we were pushing nearly two hundred thousand pounds on each truck; the ride was so smooth it felt like piloting a Cadillac. A little over an hour later, we reached the old Menards hardware store parking lot, the site of our first encounter with the dragons. As we pulled in, I spotted fifteen Heavy Equipment Transport Systems already lined up, waiting for us. The Iowa State Highway Patrol cars parked nearby, their lights and sirens finally going silent as the officers stepped out.

I climbed out of my truck and made my way toward Officer Connor, meeting him halfway between our fleets. He greeted me with a grin, shaking my hand enthusiastically.

“That was one hell of a ride, Colonel,” he said, still smiling ear to ear.

“I know, right?” I couldn’t help but grin back, the adrenaline from the drive still buzzing through me.

“It’s rare to see triple-digit trucks these days,” he continued, giving our rigs an appreciative once-over.

“I didn’t know they had it in them,” I admitted. “We’re close to pushing two hundred thousand pounds on each truck.”

He whistled low, clearly impressed. “Let us know when you’re on your way back. We’d be happy to escort you again,” he offered before heading back to his cruiser.

I nodded in thanks, watching as the fleet of patrol cars departed for Des Moines. Turning back toward my team, I immediately noticed something off. Kira was growling, barely restrained by Jake, and Stoneclaw—of all people—looked like he was ready to commit murder. The colonel we’d met during the meeting with Cayro was standing in the middle of it all, his presence like a spark in a pool of gasoline.

I picked up my pace, closing the distance just in time to hear the colonel spew venom at Kira and Jake.

“This is why you damn mutts need to be put down and wiped out. You are uncontrollable,” he barked, his voice dripping with disdain.

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and before I knew it, I was sprinting toward him. In the blink of an eye, I tackled him to the ground, just as Stoneclaw shifted into his dragon form, his jaws snapping dangerously close to the man’s head. The colonel's face contorted in fury as I straddled him, holding him down with every ounce of strength I had.

“Get the fuck off me, you fucking flea bag!” he shouted up at me, spitting out the words like venom. “It was your kind that destroyed this nation!”

A vicious snarl ripped from my throat, cutting off his next insult. “You are a Luna-damned idiot!” I shouted back, my voice raw with anger. “If I hadn’t tackled you, you’d be dead right now!”

“I am a God damn officer in the F.S. Army! Get the fuck off me!” he roared, struggling beneath me.

Before I could respond, another figure appeared beside me—his uniform marked with the insignia of a Command Sergeant Major. He placed a hand on my shoulder, his voice calm and steady.

“Colonel, I can handle him from here,” he said.

I hesitated for a moment, then climbed off the colonel, stepping back to assess the situation. Stoneclaw was still seething in his dragon form, his anger radiating off him like heat waves. Raptor and Icetail were doing their best to calm him down, but nothing seemed to work.

“Raptor! What did the Colonel say to Stoneclaw to cause him to flip like this?” I asked, my concern mounting.

“I have no earthly idea,” Raptor replied, his voice tight. “It wasn’t anything we hadn’t heard before, but for some reason, he just snapped. We were all focused on Kira and Jake—we never expected Stoneclaw to lose it.”

“Has anything like this set him off in the past?” I pressed, trying to piece together the puzzle.

“No, not even stepping on Icetail’s plastic blocks has ever set him off like this,” Raptor answered, equally bewildered.

I nodded, the pieces slowly falling into place. “Go and get everyone stationed near the MCV. Have the other dragons keep that unit away while I try to calm Stoneclaw down,” I ordered.

Raptor didn’t need to be told twice. He took off, leaving me to deal with the enraged dragon. I marched over to where Icetail was desperately trying to distract Stoneclaw.

“Hey, buddy, calm down. It’s okay. No one’s hurt. There’s no need to flip out,” Icetail was saying, his tone soothing, but his eyes filled with worry as he ducked under Stoneclaw’s thrashing tail.

Sucking in a deep breath, I laced my voice with every ounce of alpha power I possessed and shouted at Stoneclaw.

“Stoneclaw! Back down!” I roared, letting my command fly through the air like a lightning bolt. But to my horror, my power hit him and just… phased right off. “Shit…” I mouthed, realizing I was in way over my head.

Stoneclaw’s massive head swiveled toward me, his eyes locking onto mine with a feral intensity that made my blood run cold. For a moment, everything seemed to hang in the balance. I waved frantically at Icetail, signaling him to retreat. He hesitated, concern written all over his face, but my glare made it clear—get the hell out of there. He quickly moved away, heading toward the rest of the fleet, but Stoneclaw’s gaze followed him, a low growl rumbling deep in his throat.

Thinking fast, I grabbed a rock off the ground and hurled it with all my strength. It struck Stoneclaw right between the eyes. He recoiled, more in surprise than pain, and his focus snapped back to me.

With a deafening roar that seemed to shake the very earth beneath us, Stoneclaw charged. I barely had time to dive out of the way, tucking and rolling as his massive form barreled past. Popping back up to my feet, I shifted into my wolf form, launching myself upward. I landed squarely on his head, grabbing hold of his horns as he swung around to snap at me.

What the hell was wrong with him? This wasn’t just anger—this was something far more primal, something I couldn’t put my finger on. I gripped his horns tighter as he shot into the sky, streaking upward with a force that nearly wrenched me off. My heart pounded in my chest as he performed a sudden barrel roll, trying to shake me loose.

“Stoneclaw!” I screamed, my voice lost in the roar of the wind. “You need to calm down!”

But it was like he couldn’t even hear me. There was no response, no recognition. Just raw, unbridled rage. Suddenly, a streak of orange fire shot past us, and Mac appeared, flying alongside us with a worried expression etched on her face.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” she yelled, her voice barely audible over the wind.

“I have no idea!” I shouted back, struggling to maintain my grip as Stoneclaw twisted and turned.

“Try connecting with him through your bond!” she yelled again.

“Can you keep him distracted?” I called out, desperation creeping into my voice.

She gave me a thumbs up and immediately tossed a fireball at the tip of Stoneclaw’s snout. It worked—he turned his attention to her, momentarily forgetting about me as he gave chase. Taking advantage of the distraction, I allowed my mind to sink into the fleet bonds, searching for the connection that linked me to Stoneclaw.

What I found made me gasp. The protection clause of our bond was triggered, and it was raging through him like a wildfire. He felt we were under threat—felt I was under threat. But from what? There were no immediate dangers around us, nothing that should have set him off like this. Sinking deeper into the bond, I pushed a pulse of safety and assurance through it, trying to calm the storm that raged within him.

At first, nothing happened. He was still focused on Mac, chasing her with a single-minded intensity. I sent another pulse, then another, and another. By the fifth, I felt him begin to slow, his chaotic thoughts starting to unravel. His mind was a jumbled mess, but I could piece together fragments—protection, danger, must protect…

“Stoneclaw, we are safe,” I whispered through the bond, hoping he could hear me. “We’re safe.”

“Must protect…” His thoughts were fractured, barely coherent.

“Protect who?” I asked gently.

“Thunder… Mate…” The word struck me like a blow.

“Mate? Who’s mate? Jake’s mate?” I asked, confusion swirling in my mind.

“No… Must protect…” His thoughts were insistent, desperate.

“Protect who?” I asked again, trying to stay patient, trying to understand.

“Mate!” His thoughts roared through the bond, and suddenly, an image of me flashed in my mind—an image from his perspective.

My breath caught in my chest just as Stoneclaw performed another barrel roll, and my grip slipped. Before I could react, I was falling. A scream tore from my throat as the ground rushed up to meet me. I closed my eyes, bracing for the impact, praying it would be quick and painless.

But the impact never came. Just before I hit the ground, something massive and taloned wrapped around me, yanking me to a bone-jarring stop. My body whipped around from the force, but I was alive. Opening my eyes, I found myself cradled in one of Stoneclaw’s enormous claws as he flew low over the earth.

Mac flew up beside us, her face a mix of relief and lingering fear. “You okay?” she called out.

I was hyperventilating as I clung to Stoneclaw’s talons, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. My mind was racing, still processing the fact that I’d just been falling—really falling—and that I was now wrapped around a dragon’s claw like my life depended on it. Well, it kind of did.

“Where is he going?” I shouted to Mac, struggling to keep my voice steady.

“Back to the fleet. Your scream must have snapped him out of whatever was wrong with him,” she shouted back, the relief evident in her tone.

By the time we landed, Stoneclaw had shifted back to his human form. I was still wrapped around him, clutching him with a death grip like he was a life preserver in a stormy sea. He didn’t seem to mind—or notice. His face was a mask of grim determination as he carried me over to the fleet, where Steve, Mac, and Tyler peeled me off him, each of them throwing me worried glances.

As soon as I was no longer latched onto him, Stoneclaw walked silently into the MCV, not sparing anyone a glance. I stood there, catching my breath, trying to process everything that had just happened. Then I turned to the others, needing answers.

“What the hell happened!” I demanded, my voice sharper than intended.

Kira stepped forward, anger etched across her features. “That idiot Colonel came over and started provoking me, just like in Cedar Rapids. When I tried to walk away, he tried to spray me with something. Stoneclaw must have been paying attention because he took the hit for me—whatever it was. I spun around, ready to tear the Colonel apart, but that’s when Jake and Steve ran over.”

My blood ran cold. “Are you telling me the Colonel just tried to sabotage the mission?” I asked, my voice dangerously quiet.

“I don’t know, Alpha,” Kira replied, her anger giving way to uncertainty. “All I know is he tried to provoke me, and Stoneclaw took the brunt of whatever he sprayed.”

I looked around at the rest of the team, my eyes searching for confirmation. “Did any of you see this?” I asked, my tone flat.

Silence. No one met my gaze. Closing my eyes, I took a deep, steadying breath. When I spoke again, my voice was firm. “Everyone, get to your rigs. No one is to leave their trucks or go near that other unit. Lock your doors and do not respond to anyone from that unit. Jake, stay with Kira. Whoever your assigned dragon is can stay in my rig. Mac, you have command of my truck until I get this mess sorted out.”

Without a word, they all moved to their trucks. Raptor took over Kira’s rig, while Icetail headed to mine. I watched them go, my mind already shifting gears to deal with the next problem. Stoneclaw.

Inside the MCV, I found Steve and Catalina at their workstations, pretending to be busy. They both glanced at me, concern in their eyes, but I wasn’t in the mood to talk.

“Guard the door,” I said quietly.

“Yes, Alpha,” they replied in unison, turning to face the entrance with military precision.

I made my way to Mac’s bunk room, where Stoneclaw had shut himself in. I hesitated for a moment, then quietly opened the door and slipped inside, closing it behind me. Stoneclaw was sitting on the bunk, staring down at his phone, his shoulders slumped, and his expression grim.

“Stoneclaw,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t respond. His eyes darted back and forth as he read something on his screen, completely absorbed in whatever was on his mind. I gently took the phone from his hand, glancing at the texts. They were messages to Darkhide, asking for advice, confessing that he had found his mate—and she wasn’t a dragon. My heart skipped a beat. This was serious.

I set the phone aside and knelt in front of him, forcing him to meet my gaze. His eyes were stormy, filled with emotions I couldn’t begin to untangle.

“Stoneclaw,” I whispered, more insistently this time. “Talk to me.”

He looked at me, his eyes searching mine as if looking for something—comfort, maybe, or understanding. He took a long, shaky breath before speaking.

“Colonel Sirus came over and started provoking Sergeant Holland about the trucks,” he began, his voice low and strained. “I was close enough to hear everything. When she tried to walk away, he used his rank to hold her in place. I started moving toward them when I saw the Colonel reach into his pocket. By the time I got there, he had a small spray bottle in his hand, like a breath spray. I stepped in front of Sergeant Holland just as he sprayed it, and it hit me full force in the face.”

His voice trembled slightly as he relayed the events. It was clear that whatever the Colonel had sprayed him with had affected him deeply, triggering the protective instincts that ran so strongly in his dragon blood—and the bond he believed he had with me.

I met his gaze again, my mind racing. We’d have to deal with this new bond issue later, but for now, I needed to get a handle on what had just happened—and how we were going to move forward.

“What was in the bottle?” I asked, my voice a controlled calm, though my insides were churning with unease.

“It was an experimental chemical,” Stoneclaw replied, his tone heavy with the weight of the past. “Developed before the Second Twilight Winter, it was designed to expose shifters who had joined the military. It triggers a feral state, causing shifters to lose control of their shifting abilities and go berserk.”

I felt a cold shiver run down my spine. “How do you know about this?”

His eyes darkened as he recounted the memory. “We were the first test subjects. The upper brass knew we were dragons but didn’t want to lose us because of how valuable we were. So, they tested the chemical on us to see how effective it was. Once we figured out what it was, we trained ourselves to resist it. But the spray the Colonel used on Kira... it was extremely concentrated.”

“What would have happened if Kira had been sprayed?” I asked, a cold edge to my voice.

“With that level of concentration? She would have gone feral instantly, likely resulting in a massacre. It took everything I had not to shift right away, but by then, our bond had already identified the Colonel as a threat. It wasn’t just the chemical—it was the combination of the spray and my instinct to protect that pushed me over the edge.” His voice trembled with the weight of what could have been.

I nodded, processing the gravity of the situation. “Thank you, Stoneclaw,” I said quietly, standing up and placing a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll deal with what I saw in our bond later. Right now, I need to focus on protecting the fleet. If you truly are my mate, then you know that I have to put their safety above everything else.”

He looked down at his hands, the tension in his shoulders showing the internal battle he was waging. He didn’t reply, and I left him there, knowing that we both needed time to sort through the tangled emotions this revelation had brought to light.

Stepping back into the main work area of the MCV, I locked eyes with Catalina. “Shut the door and lock it,” I ordered, my voice brooking no argument.

“Yes, Alpha,” she responded, quickly securing the space.

Sitting down at Mac’s workstation, I logged in and summoned Scuzball. The screen flickered to life with his familiar presence.

“Scuzball, I need you to look into something,” I said, my tone clipped. “Stoneclaw just described an experimental chemical used to force shifters into a feral state. Get me everything you can on it—now.”

He nodded, his expression serious as he began pulling up data. While he worked, I quickly video called Cayro. My gut told me this was only the beginning of a much bigger problem, and I needed answers fast.