3
The royal ship was ready and waiting in the main hangar by the time Trace arrived. No time was wasted the moment he stepped aboard, the vessel lifted off, heading back toward the city of Drahoone.
Trace paced the corridors, his anxiety growing with each minute that passed. He needed to make it home before the egg hatched. Through their telepathic link, Brie did her best to calm him, her voice gentle in his mind.
You’re going to make it in time, my love. I promise.
The journey took two and a half hours, though the crew managed to shave off every possible second. The ship landed in record time, and Trace was the first to step off protocol be damned. No one dared to stop him.
Daxen, King of Marithia and Mikan’s brother, had arrived only moments earlier. He waited at the entrance of the hatching chamber for Trace to join him. Daxen was family, and there was no chance he would miss the birth. He was also there in case the unthinkable happened if the hatchling didn’t survive, Daxen would be the only one capable of restraining Trace, just as he’d done the last time.
When they reached the chamber, Trace froze. The room was crowded with far more people than he expected. The sight made his heart race, memories flooding back of the last hatching that ended in tragedy.
Brie moved quickly to his side, taking his trembling hand. She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “Everything is going to be all right, my love,” she whispered.
Mikan noticed his friend’s unease. “Trace,” he said gently, “really, the only people who need to be here are you and Brie, the two guards protecting the egg, and the sentinel who will bond with the child. If you’d prefer, the rest of us can step out until the transformation is complete.”
Trace took a steadying breath and looked around the room. His eyes landed on Rodic, seated beside Mikan, grinning with excitement. Trace exhaled and smiled faintly. “Everyone here is family,” he said. “I don’t want my anxiety to spoil their joy.”
A loud crack split the air, drawing every gaze to the egg.
“Showtime,” Daxen murmured, taking a seat with his sentinel, Morgan, beside him.
While the others focused on the egg, Brie spoke quietly into Trace’s mind. Do you know the man standing next to Stryker? I don’t recognize him.
He’s to be the hatchling’s sentinel, Trace answered. He’ll bond with the child and dedicate his life to its protection.
Trace cleared his throat and addressed the room. “While we have a few minutes Max, have you met Her Majesty yet?”
The man stepped forward and gave a deep bow. “I have not had the honor,” he said. Turning to Brie, he added, “My Lady, my name is Maxim Daws. I’m an officer of the Wing Corps, formerly assigned to Commander Puc’s surveillance team. My duty was to keep the squad safe. I have the ability of a ghost and experience dealing with magic. I am also Stryker’s cousin. It is an honor to be chosen to protect the new royal.”
Brie inclined her head approvingly. “What do people call you?”
“Most simply call me Max, my Lady,” he replied, bowing again.
She smiled. “And what did Puc say when he learned you were leaving his team?” Her eyes twinkled with amusement.
Max’s face twisted with horror. “With respect, my Lady, I’d rather not repeat his words.”
Laughter rippled through the chamber. “I can imagine,” Brie said, trying not to laugh herself.
Another sharp crack echoed from the egg, silencing the room.
Fifteen minutes later, the shell split apart completely, and a hatchling wriggled free a dark blue dragon with a crimson belly. The little creature flapped its wings as if eager to take flight. No one was surprised to see it was male. Through the mind-link, Trace told Mikan they would need to discuss the southern throne later. Mikan silently agreed.
Rodic reached toward the hatchling, only for Stryker to gently bat his hand away. “Not yet,” he cautioned with a smile. “You must wait until after the change.” When Rodic tried again, Stryker smacked his hand once more, earning quiet laughter from those nearby.
Without warning, the hatchling leapt toward Stryker, its scales turning midnight black as it released a thin stream of fire. The room froze in disbelief.
“I think Rodic might have a new protector,” Daxen remarked dryly. A few chuckles followed, though Stryker only growled, earning more laughter.
“Interesting color shift,” Mikan observed, his tone sharpening as the hatchling’s scales reverted to blue and red. His eyes narrowed in study.
After several tense seconds, Mikan looked at Brie. “Is he speaking to you through telepathy?”
Brie nodded slowly. “He knows who I am, Trace as well, and Rodic.”
“That’s impossible,” Daxen said, stepping closer to examine the hatchling. But before anyone could react, the small dragon shuddered and melted into a pool of shimmering blue liquid.
Trace seized Brie’s hand, his heart hammering. Memories of their last child’s failed transformation surged through him. He held his breath, terrified history was repeating itself.
The liquid swirled, darkening from blue to deep black. Mikan and Daxen exchanged a tense glance. This was no ordinary child.
Then, at last, the liquid coalesced forming the shape of an infant boy. His hair was black as night, like Trace’s. The child lay motionless on the table, eerily still.
“Sentinel,” Trace commanded quietly, “claim your royal.”
Max stepped forward, lifting the newborn carefully. He tried to coax the baby’s first breath, the seconds stretching painfully. The medical technician murmured suggestions, and Max followed each one until finally the child let out a powerful cry. Relief washed through the chamber like a tide.
Trace turned to Brie and gave her the honor of finishing the oath. Her voice was strong and regal.
“Maxim Daws, your life no longer belongs to you. You are now and forever bound to Connor Monroe, Prince of Malta, Marithia, and the Draynor and the heir prince to Osca.”
Max bowed deeply to his King and Queen, emotion flickering in his eyes. He hesitated before passing the infant to the waiting technician, who began cleaning and wrapping the child.
Daxen chuckled quietly. “And the sentinel effects begin.”
- End of Chapter -
