Eve's POV:
Wait. Hold on.
Did Lucius just say I could keep the dragons?
For a full three seconds, I blinked at him, convinced I'd heard wrong. Because there was no way the same brooding vampire king, dragon-slayer extraordinaire, and professional grump had just given me permission to keep three baby dragons alive. I half-expected him to burst into maniacal laughter and say, "Just kidding, witch," before turning them into crispy chicken wings. But no—he was serious. His jaw was set in that tight, tortured line of his, and his scarlet eyes flicked between me and the hatchlings like he was calculating how fast his life had spiraled into chaos.
And honestly, same.
The little beasts behind me — three squalling, smoke-sneezing, flap-first disasters — made a beeline for me like I'd just announced free food. They were less than an hour old and already convinced I was their whole world. Which, honestly? Fine. I'll take the promotion.
