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Over on her porch, Hazel waves Aya down. “Get over here, Luna! When you two start on those hatchling-pups, I want to help you design the nursery. I’ve got some ideas.”

Aya steals another kiss before she runs off to Hazel’s cabin. My father waits for me at the bottom of the steps while my mother beams down at us.

“We’ll have to fly there,” I tell him. “Just me and you, Father.”

His wings push out of his back. Mine are still sore from the battle and ache at the roots when I spread them. We lift into the air together. He falls in behind me to follow my lead. We fly over Ash Clan and the tops of the pines until the Academy comes into view.

I bring us down slow in front of the dragon statue at the planetarium entrance. The cover Amari put on it is still tied down. The building is nearly finished, glass dome and all. Scaffolding runs up the back of the roof, but the crew has gone home for the day.

My father tucks his wings into his back. He stares at the covered statue. “Ahh. I’m most excited about this build.”

“You should be,” I say.

He turns to me, and I grin. “Because it’s yours.” I tug the cover off the statue.

The dragon underneath is carved from dark stone, with its wings spread wide and its face turned up toward the sky. The tilt of its chin is pure Tyrion.

My father frowns. “It is for Wintermoon.”

I shake my head. “While I’m in deep shit with Kade, I worked on this with Amari from Medina Shadow and convinced Headmistress Ebony to let me build the planetarium in your honor.”

He looks away from me, but I smell the pride in his scent. He reaches out and brushes his fingers over the stone.

“I’m accepting who I am as Ash Clan,” I tell him. “But I can’t do it without accepting Stormscale. I need it to live in you until it can live in me.”

My father grips the back of my head and pulls me into a hug. “I could not have asked Mother Fate for a better son.” He’s shaking. My dragon pushes up to meet his. “I have spent my whole life naming stars. Not one of them has ever burned as bright as you.”

I pull back with a laugh and throw an arm around his shoulders to haul him against my side. “Let’s take a tour. I can’t wait for your first seminar.”

“I’ve already planned it,” he says.

We head up the stairs to the entrance. “Well,” I say, “let’s hear it.”

My father starts in on Cassiopeia before we reach the top step. I don’t interrupt him.

44

EZRA

THE NEXT MORNING

There’s no farewell when my mother, my father, Dominic, Sam, and I shift on the shoreline. We take to the sky, and no one bothers making a speech about it. My dragon stretches his wings wide and throws his weight into the wind. The roots of them still ache from the battle. He’s sick of being cooped up, and he won’t baby a little soreness now. He rides the air out over the lake until Wintermoon is long gone and there’s nothing under us but ocean.

My father takes the lead. Sam brings up the rear while my mother and Dominic flank me. Every so often, her dragon drifts close enough to bump her wing against mine, like she needs to make sure I’m still here. My dragon puffs himself up. He’s a grown alpha now and still eats it up when his mother fusses over him.

Below us, Sirena, her father, and her brothers lead the way to their pod. The Mer are fast. They cut through the waves and dive back under. I keep losing sight of them until they pop up again far out ahead. Sirena brought my mate’s wolf back, and I’d follow her anywhere for that.

We fly for days and sleep on whatever rocks Sirena can find for us. I hate every mile between me and Aya. The farther we go, the harder the mate bond pulls at me. My dragon keeps sniffing at the wind. Each time it shifts without bringing him her scent, he sulks worse.

Sirena breaks the surface ahead of us and points to a ridge of black rock sticking out of the open water. My father tucks his wings and drops toward it. The rest of us follow him in. My talons scrape over the wet stone when I touch down. A wave crashes into the rocks beside me. I shake off the spray with a huff.

It takes me way too long to figure out the dark water around the ridge is the pod. Heads come up out of the waves on every side, and all of them are watching us. I edge back from the waterline. That’s a lot of sharp teeth.

The queen rises out of the water among them. Her scent hits me first. It’s colder than Sirena’s and sharper with salt. Silver streaks run through the dark hair floating around her shoulders, and she wears a crown of bone and pearls. The gills along her neck flutter open. Her eyes are solid black like her daughter’s.

Sirena swims straight to her. “Mother.”

The queen pulls Sirena into her arms. “Daughter, I have missed you.”