The warrior bowed. Apologetic. Respectful. Then backed away.

Serena didn’t look back, but behind her, the shield surrounding the group melted down into nothing in the span of one second.

Serena: Be on guard. Left treeline, one hundred feet. Three archers. Direct front, same distance. Three more.

She moved forward, until she was next to the leader of the group. He turned, and they walked side by side with his four men trailing behind.

Dex closed his eyes. Opened them. The scene didn’t change. His mate was walking shoulder to shoulder with a man who had aimed at her chest two minutes ago. Her back was to four armed men.

They followed behind the warriors deeper into the jungle for several minutes in silence.

Serena walked ahead of the group, unflinching. The bow was still in her hand down at her side. Her composure was flawless. But Dex could feel the tension she was hiding through their matebond.

Serena said something to the leader she was walking next to.

Hyran: You do realize he’s likely in charge of that, Serena, right? Insulting him is an interesting approach.

Serena: His eastern perimeter has a blind spot.

The man laughed a second later, with his whole body. Like he and Serena had been friends for years.

Dex looked at Fin. Fin was already looking at him. They both turned back to Serena and kept walking.

Serena said something else. The warrior laughed, then gestured at something in the canopy. Serena looked at it and nodded. He said something else. She replied with one word that made him chuckle again and shake his head.

They were talking. Casually. Like they were pals.

"What’s she saying?" Hale whispered.

"He asked if we were all hers," Elara answered. "She said unfortunately and he thought it was funny."

Gav put his hand over his heart. "That one hurt."

They approached a towering structure of ice and stone, its entrance carved with faintly glowing runes warmed by the oasis air. The doors opened on their own, revealing a long corridor sloping downward into light.

They walked through in silence.

The corridor opened into a city.

Ancient. Vast. So breathtaking it forced a moment of stillness from everyone except for Serena and Elara.

Tiered terraces spiraled downward, carved in white marble. Dragons perched along rooftops and balcony rails, sleek and powerful, scaled in silver, sapphire, and frost, as though they were extensions of the architecture.

Marble roads stretched between crystalline towers. This city was tall and wide. From the height they were at, they could see waterfalls pouring from impossible heights.

Thousands of people filled the streets below, most bearing dark hair and blue eyes, their clothing woven with silver thread.

Mages and shifters walked side by side without separation.

Serena’s spine stayed straight, her expression serene. Only Fin and Dex caught the micro-reaction through their matebonds: recognition. Grief. The sharp, disorienting ache of a woman standing inside a mirror of the home she lost at twelve.

Elara felt it too, in a different way. Her hand found Hale’s forearm, and she squeezed once. Her eyes were bright.

Maelor made a sound that lived somewhere between a gasp and a prayer. His hands rose to the sides of his head for the second time that day, turning in a slow circle. "This goes against every theory I have ever defended."

Hyran said nothing. His silence was louder than anything Maelor could have said.

Aeron had his journal open and was sketching so fast his hand was a blur.

Gav exhaled. "I’ve been in a blizzard, a tunnel, a jungle, and now an underground city full of dragons. I want everyone to know that I handled all of this with grace."

Their elevated walkway stretched high above the bustling lower levels, clearly a path reserved for nobles or high officials. The people on this upper tier, finely dressed and poised, froze as the group approached. Conversations halted mid-sentence.

The outsiders were visibly different from anything this city had ever seen.

Avalon chose this moment to lift his head from Hale’s chest and chirp loudly at a passing frost dragon three hundred times his size. The frost dragon turned its massive head, regarded the hatchling for a long moment, then snorted a plume of ice crystals that drifted harmlessly over Hale’s shoulder.

Avalon chirped again, louder, as if he’d just made a friend.

"Please stop making alliances," Hale said.

Dragons perched above shifted, sensing something. Their heads snapped toward Serena first. Then toward Dex.

One by one, they exhaled columns of ice into the air, spiraling them upward in a synchronized salute.

And they bowed.

Every dragon in sight.

Fin’s pulse spiked. Dex went very still beside him. Hale looked down at Avalon, then up at the dozens of dragons lowering their heads, and his face cycled through confusion, awe, and the dawning realization that he was holding a hatchling in a city that just acknowledged all three of them.

Hyran: Dragon King. If you could tell them not to do that, that would be great.

Before Dex could, Serena spoke in Glaciovox, her body glowing gold in answer. The voice sounded different than her own. The overlap with Draken-Vorah gave Dex an idea of what she was saying. "The salute is seen and honored. Please rise."

The dragons stopped immediately.

Every warrior beside her had stopped. The leader looked at the sky, then at her, and asked something that sounded like it had been building since the dome.

Serena’s reply was one sentence. Delivered with a straight face. The leader laughed. Full chest. His scouts looked at each other, then at him, then started walking because their commander was walking and laughing and apparently that was enough.

Hale looked at Elara. Elara was already smiling. "He asked how she commands dragons. She said nicely."

Dex: That’s my girl. Well handled.

Serena: Thank you.

Dex: I’m still mad about the dome.

Serena: I know.

The procession continued.

Fin: Assuming we are being taken to their leaders, Serena?

Serena: Yes.

The road ended and the palace began, and there was no transition between the two. The entrance was tall enough to fly a dragon through. Waterfalls poured from the upper levels, cascading down the palace walls.

Gav looked left. Looked right. Looked straight ahead. "That’s a palace."

"Well spotted," Hyran commented.

They moved through the palace in silence, past pillared halls and balconies overlooking the city below. The warriors stopped at a set of doors three stories tall, pushed them open, and stepped aside.

Two thrones sat at the far end of the chamber.

A king and queen occupied them, regal in every sense. The queen’s gown shimmered like frostwoven silk, her cutting blue eyes framed by dark wavy hair threaded with braids, a gold crown resting upon her head.

The king wore armor worked with dragon motifs, elegant but unmistakably meant for war.

Serena entered first, leading the group, and immediately dipped, head bowed.