Luna leaned against the balcony pillar and looked out across the great city of New Delhi. It was the capital of India, the central hub of its government. But it was so much more than that. It was a bustling place, filled to the brim with life. From the crowded street markets to the booming nightlife, there were endless opportunities to drink in the ever-evolving culture.

The other dragons and most of the kin called her materialistic and vain. They weren't wrong. Just not entirely correct, either.

She had an appreciation for the more traditional mediums of art as well. In her quieter moments, she would don a layer of glamour and spend an afternoon wandering through a modern art gallery. 'Modern' being the key term. The rise and fall of the ages brought a plethora of new experiences. Humans changed so quickly that she could barely keep up as it was. She simply didn't see the point in reliving the past when she could just live it in the moment. Time had already claimed so much, and there was no way to predict what wouldn't make it into the next century.

Yet, here she was, reminiscing about the past. She couldn't stop thinking about the last time she had been here with him.

It had been not quite fifteen years ago. He'd come for a Counsel summit, and she desperately needed a break from her search for her brother and niece.

She had come ready with an apology gift, since their last time together was interrupted by the attack on Gyaros. It was a bottle of fortified wine that was the product of nearly three decades of carefully selecting each component from the grape to the type of wood for the barrel. She had even consulted with Lysander after he'd woken to select the perfect brandy to complete the process and the perfect bottle to house the liquor. There would never be another bottle of alcohol in the world that would match his specific tastes.

In return, he'd presented her with a blue and pink saree made from the finest Indian silk money could buy. She had worn it that very day. She had been proud to show the world which man held her favor. Seeing her in clothes he picked out for her drove him absolutely wild. And though she spent a full thirty hours teasing and working him up, he had been careful not to stretch or tear the fabric before throwing her across the room to the bed.

It was always so easy with him. They fell into a rhythm no matter how long they were apart. He always begged her to stay a little longer, but he always let her go when the time came and always welcomed her back with open arms when she returned. He asked so much from her, and she from him. But he never once asked for the one thing he knew she could never give him.

He never made grand declarations of love. Only loyalty. He never asked her to be his mate, or wife, or even partner. He knew, better than anyone in the world, that she would never tie herself to someone like that again. It hurt him, knowing that, and she always felt a little guilty for causing that hurt. That guilt had festered into painful regret now.

She should have told him the truth before he died. She should have told him the truth thousands of years ago. But she had always been too scared.

Like all his gifts, that saree was carefully packed and stored with long-term preservation in mind. The bottle, now empty, had been put proudly on display in his office in Paris.

She wondered if it was thrown away when the new queen moved in.

"Luna?"

The dragon turned and forced herself to smile up the solid wall of pure masculine energy that was Atticus Shaw. The Counsel staffer she'd spoken to on her arrival practically sprinted away from the pair, looking back only once. She couldn't blame them. The last time dragons stood on the Counsel's doorstep it had been to threaten them.

"Hello, Counsellor Shaw," she purred. "You're looking good. As always."

"What are you doing here?"

His response was not what she expected. "You called for me," she reminded him slowly. "The kin said it was urgent."

"I called for Nekros. Two weeks ago."

"Oh." Instantly, she dropped the flirtatious tone. Her heart hadn't really been in it anyway, and that void was quickly filled with irrational anger and a surprising amount of hurt. "Well, I am so sorry to disappoint you. My deepest apologies for not being my brother. I'll just piss off then and tell the kin not to-"

"Luna, wait."

She was already halfway down the stairs of the Counsel building when Atticus called her back. She was half-tempted to ignore him and fly off right then and there, leaving him with the expense of fixing whatever damage her shift would cause. But she had a soft spot for the polar bear, so she stopped and turned back to give him one chance to explain.

"It's Rhia."

"Is she okay?" Luna was back at the top of the stairs in an instant. "What happened? Where is she?"

"She's alive. She's still recovering, but she's being discharged today."

"What do you mean, recovering? She's a dragon, for fuck's sake."

"Luna, please... where's Nekros?"

It would have been so easy to break down the door to the Counsel building and storm the place until she found her niece. It was foolish and arrogant to think that she could be kept from her family when they were hurt. But it wouldn't actually accomplish anything. From the beginning, Rhia had made it clear that she can put up just as many walls that can be knocked down.

Luna knew that kind of defensive response all too well. It was a different experience, being on the other side, and she had taken way too long to figure it out.

"Still on his island, I assume," she said, flexing her underdeveloped patience muscles and taking a deep breath. "We haven't spoken in a few weeks. He's been busy, and I... have also been busy."

"I never got a chance to tell you how sorry I am," he said after a moment of awkward silence. "About Constantine. I know you're probably sick of hearing it, but... I've gone over it a million times, and I can't get rid of this feeling like I should have done more. I had a good working relationship with Constantine. I was friends with Nolan. I should have done more to help Counsellors Jorelle and Delana with the werewolves. Maybe I could have done something to prevent all of this from happening."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Atticus. The only way you could have changed anything is by inventing a time machine. From their inception to their deaths, what happened to both the werewolves and the vampires falls on my shoulders alone. It's my fault."

"Luna-"

"I'm not really surprised you weren't able to get a hold of Nekros," Luna cleared her throat and looked away. Thinking about him was hard enough. Talking was so much worse. "I know your Counsel considers him the reasonable one, but he always had an issue with tunnel vision."

"But this is Rhia, we're talking about," Atticus insisted, accepting the change of subject without any pushback. "Are you really telling me that he put himself in a position where even his elites couldn't get a message to him about his own daughter?"

"I'll talk to him. I'm sure he didn't-"

"Oh, yeah, because talking has always gone over well with your kind," Atticus snarled with uncharacteristic sarcasm. "But sure. Talk to him. Be sure to mention that none of this would have happened if he came with us, like he said he would from the very beginning!"

"Jesus, Atticus. What happened?"

"The Organization happened! They sent hellhounds after Rhia."

It took a long time for Luna to process what he said. Hellhound. Hellhound-s. As in multiple. That meant they had to be fairly young. Young or old, what did it matter when their opponent was as young as Rhia? Even if they were trained in combat from the moment they hatched, no one only a year into their awakening would have the power to take them on. That mattered even less when her primary expression of magic, her hellfire, was utterly useless against them.

"Oh my god," was all she was able to say.

All at once, Atticus's rightful anger drained out of him. He deflated right in front of her and leaned his whole weight back against the railing of the balcony. For the first time, Luna noticed the exhaustion and stress etched into his face. The bags under his eyes. The fine powdering of white facial hair in defiance of his strict grooming routine. The slightly erratic rhythm to his heart and the way his hands trembled made her wonder if he'd consumed anything other than coffee in the last two weeks.

"The medics did everything they could," His voice was shaking almost as hard as his hands. "We never imagined she would be the one getting hurt. I didn't know what else to do but bring her here. We weren't even sure she was going to make it this far."

"You did good, Atticus. What were her injuries?"

"The worst of it was her right arm. It's a damn miracle she didn't lose it altogether. Her shoulder was completely dislocated. The doctors think the same injury tore the tendons and ligaments as well as broke her right collarbone. Multiple other fractures in the long bones of the arm, and her hand was so fucked up they described it as putting a puzzle back together. But her bones healed fine compared to the soft tissue injuries. It looked like she got caught in a shredder. It... she just wouldn't stop bleeding..."

"Hellhounds have a nasty bite," Luna shuddered. "Their venom acts like a blood thinner and keeps the blood from clotting. If that wasn't bad enough, it numbs your magic, so any extra healing abilities you have are entirely useless. It's more concentrated in their tails and can force you out of your shift, but at least they can't grab on with their stingers."

"The doctors counted eight puncture wounds around her body. There could be more in the right arm but it's impossible to tell with everything else. As far as we can tell, they were trying to capture her, not kill. She must have put up one hell of a fight." Atticus took a deep, shuddering breath. "Luna... when we were in the chopper, she asked me to call Nekros. But she didn't call him Nekros. She called him her dad."

Luna's heart sank to her feet, and her stomach twisted angrily. She slumped back against the wall across from Atticus, holding a hand to her mouth to keep herself from vomiting.

Nekros's dream, above anything else since his return, had been for Rhia to one day call him her father in more ways than simple biology. He'd been a broken record about it anytime she wasn't around to overhear. He had been so determined and patient to earn her trust and love enough for that honor.

When she needed him the most, that dream finally came true... and he wasn't there.

This was Phoenix's doing. It had to be. There was no other logical reason. Nekros would have come if Rhia had gotten a papercut. He wouldn't have ignored his kin unless there was someone else whispering in his ear.

As upset as she was, Luna wasn't surprised. She should have known Phoenix's change of heart was too good to be true.

The worst part was knowing that there was no coming back from this. Rhia would never forgive him.

"How is she?" she asked when she was sure she wasn't going to puke. "Emotionally, I mean. Is she doing that thing where she pretends everything's fine?"

"I wish she would," Atticus sighed. "At least then I would know she's dealing with it in her own way. It would be better than this. I don't even know what to call it. She's... angry. There's more to it than just Nekros, though, I can feel it. But she won't talk to me. She won't talk to anyone. She just keeps stonewalling us. All I've been able to get out of her is that the hellhounds were sent by the Organization, they killed the entity we were trying to bring back, and she managed to kill one of them."

"Damn," Luna actually laughed a little. "She killed a hellhound? The kin are going to throw her a damn party when they find out."

"I would advise against that."

"Why? Even in the old days, killing a hellhound wasn't exactly common. Rhia managed to kill one while fending off others and survived. This might be-"

"Luna, I know this isn't my business, but I'm telling you that would be a terrible idea. She doesn't see death the way we do. She hasn't been numbed by time or experience."

"She was a medic. She has seen people die before."

"But she has never killed. This was her first."

If Luna's heart hadn't already been on the floor, it was now. Rhia had suffered all this and had been alone the whole time. India was right on the border between the territories of four different dragons. Any one of Lysander, Ares, Valkyr, or Nekros should have been reachable and could have been here within days. But somehow Luna was the only one that the kin were able to get a hold of? She'd been in butt-fuck nowhere in northern Svalbard.

What the fuck was going on?

"Can I see her?" she asked quietly.

Atticus nodded, straightened his jacket, and just like that, he was back to being the calculated master of spies that he was known for. He led Luna through the lobby towards the elevators, and several staffers scattered to avoid getting in either of their way, following up with quiet mutters that Luna pretended not to hear.

Judging by the sterile scent, the entire fifth floor had been dedicated to being as close a hospital setting as possible. As most urgent care centers were capable of treating magical patients as well as humans, Luna assumed this floor didn't get used all that often except for patients who required the protection of the Counsel. Or for people who hated hospitals, which was far more likely in this case.

Luna was about to commend Atticus on managing to keep Rhia in a medical ward for so long, when a group of three women came around the corner ahead of them. She recognized them as dragonkin immediately, and all four stopped dead in their tracks. Two of the women stepped closer to the one in the middle, who's hair was nearly as white as Luna's, and the three of them looked at the dragon with a mix of dislike and distrust. "Atticus," Luna said slowly, unable to hold back the low growl in her throat. "What the hell are the unbound doing here?"

Atticus took a hasty step back, clearing the space between the women. "Take it easy, all of you," he said cautiously. "Luna, they just came to help."

The oldest of the three women turned to her companions and muttered something under her breath. "What was that?" Luna demanded.

"We did what you would not," the woman barked back in English with a heavy Nepali accent. "We protected your young. We brought her to people who would help her. That is more than what you would have ever done for us."

"Then why do it at all?" Luna spat, ice forming under her feet while frost started to creep along the walls. "Isn't keeping score against us dragons your whole philosophy?!"

"The unbound do not punish children for the sins of their forbearers," the wyrm answered with a hiss, her own white hair shimmering red with power. "The dragon Rhia has shown us more respect in the single year she has known of us than all other dragons combined in the eons we have existed. We came to her aid at our own volition, and her response was to first thank us for retrieving the body of her fallen companion. When was the last time the dragons put the respect owed to the dead over their own lives? When, Great Dragon Luna, was the last time you showed such humility?

The woman stepped forward, brushing past Luna to slam her fist against the button to call the elevator. Atticus winced as the metal panel around it cracked. "You are right about one thing," she said as the other two stepped into the car. "We do keep score. One day, we will call for the score to be settled. How sure are you that Rhia won't be on our side with a scoreboard of her own?"

Without another word, she stepped into the elevator, and the doors slid closed. "Sorry," Atticus muttered. "I should have told you there were unbound here. There are others, but they're not as vocal about their... uh..."

"Forget it," she snapped. "Just take me to Rhia."

Atticus hesitated for a second before nodding and setting off down the hall. He didn't need to be the one to tell Luna that the wyrm was right. That was something for her to discuss with her brother. And there will be a discussion.

Rhia wasn't in her room when they finally got there. While Atticus stepped back out to talk to one of the nurses, Luna took the opportunity to look around. While there were obvious signs of hospital equipment, it looked more like a small hotel room than a medical center. It was warmer and had a homey feel to the wood paneling and neutral brown colors.

A change of clothes was messily folded on top of the dresser. There were tags in the trash, so they had to be new. A cellphone with a shattered screen was also in the bin, meaning the one sitting on the bedside table had to be brand new. How many more phones was that girl going to break?

Luna glanced at the door to make sure no one was coming in before swiping her finger across the screen. Without a passcode, it opened to the text conversation she'd been having with Dáithí. Although the conversation appeared to be entirely one-sided. Every message for the last two weeks had gone unanswered, and most of them were similar.

Rhia: Hey, me again. Call me when you can.

Rhia: Please call me.

Rhia: Dáithí, I know you're seeing these. Call me back.

With the final message sent the day before reading;

Rhia: Fine. I get it. I'm done trying.

The call records weren't much better, showing dozens of unanswered calls to Dáithí's number, broken up only by two one-hour-long calls to Madeline. The vindictive part of Luna wanted to gloat. The dragonkin would swear up and down that there were no bad hatchlings, but Luna had always known there was something wrong with that snake. His mother could be forgiven for missing it, being human and all. But his father should have smelled the rot in that egg. Everyone turned their backs on Dáithí, but Rhia kept letting him in.

Why?

Luna pushed that thought aside in favor of further confirmation of her fears. Rhia had not sent a single message to Nekros. She hadn't even tried to call him. None of the kin had reached out either except for one. She recognized the name of one of the twins of Nekros's most trusted elite.

Asher: We're leaving. All of us. Heading for Breda. If you ever need anything, please think of us. Our family will always be there for you.

Rhia: Thank you. Give Dyran and Nel my love. Stay safe.

If that meant what Luna thought it meant, this was extremely troubling news. She'd heard rumors of the unbound gathering in greater numbers, but she never imagined that they would be able to convince Dyran, of all dragonkin, to break his bond. While he'd never exactly voiced his distaste for Phoenix, everyone knew he couldn't stand her. His diligence and loyalty to Nekros had completely shattered the record for how long a dragonkin had gone without sleep, standing sentry at the door of Rhia's incubation chamber the whole time.

Now, Nekros's voice of reason was gone.

Putting the phone back to how it was before and locking it, Luna completed her lap around the room. As she passed by the dresser again, she tugged something out from under Rhia's clothes that she hadn't noticed before. It was a photo of Rhia and Nolan, and that sick feeling came rushing back to Luna's stomach. It was torn and ragged, and there was a bloodstain splattered across Rhia's smiling face.

Luna wasn't the type to interpret a mundane coincidence as a sign from some higher power... but she also couldn't ignore the ripple of fear that made its way through her spine.

~