The hatchlings spotted Fari before he reached Val, and immediately vanished behind their father's tail with a chorus of tiny mental squeaks.
Too big. Too red. Too scary!
Fari chuckled, the sound like rolling thunder. "So these are my niece and nephews. I didn't know they'd hatched yet, brother."
Val gave a tired, puffed-out snort. "They did just recently. Didn't really get the chance to tell you."
Around them, a few resistance healers worked quietly over the wounded—Sky among them—bandages gleaming pale in the firelight. The air still smelled of ash and crushed herbs, the distant murmur of voices reminding them the world hadn't stopped.
Yara stopped a few paces away, hands clenched at her sides. The small dragons clung to Val's flank, peeking out like kittens from under a blanket. His gold eyes met hers briefly before turning away.
The air between them thrummed with too many unsaid things—pain and longing and the quiet ache of people who had nearly lost everything.
