Before either Ash or I could respond, a small, greenish-brown blur of scales and thin, leathery wings darted around Ash’s legs. The small draken launched herself a good four or five feet into the air—

Panic exploded. She was only four years old and unable to fly. Not that it stopped Nektas’s daughter from trying. Repeatedly. I shot forward, catching her around the waist just as she started to plummet back to the hard stone floor. One wing whipped around, catching me in the side of the face. The slap stung, but how she clung to me made up for it. Her embrace was strong and at odds with her slight weight, but gods, it was one of the best hugs I’d ever received.

“Jadis.” I laughed, jerking my head back from her flailing wings.

“I think someone missed you,” Ash remarked, his voice warm.

Jadis gave a muffled chirp as she grasped onto my hair with her tiny, clawed fists. The tug sent a fiery wave of tingles across my scalp, but I honestly didn’t care as I held on to her. She wasn’t trying to hurt me. Plus, Nektas had said that my hair likely reminded Jadis of her mother. She’d only been two when Halayna was killed. Not nearly old enough to build a wealth of memories to look back on when she missed her momma. I held her tighter.

“And I also think this one may not have tried all that hard to stop her,” Ash added, his arms folded over his chest as he looked down at Reaver.

The shaggy-blond-haired draken’s cheeks pinked as he stared at the floor. He wore loose pants and a sleeveless tunic the color of cream. At the moment, Reaver looked like any mortal child, except for the vertical pupils and the somber seriousness of the old soul he carried.

Life had not been easy for either of them.

While Jadis had lost one parent to Kolis, Reaver had lost both of his before he was even old enough to hold on to his mortal form. They’d died defending the Shadowlands after Kolis grew angry with Ash for not responding to his summons quickly enough. Did Reaver have any memories of his parents? If not, I knew what kind of aching emptiness that left behind. I had none of my father.

I drew my hand down Jadis’s back, her scales dry and smooth against my palm. I couldn’t help but think of how they continued to experience loss. Ector. Davina. Orphine. Both she and Reaver had likely been close to them. Perhaps even thought of them as family. A wealth of emotion swelled in my chest. They had already suffered far too much senseless cruelty and loss.

I glanced at Ash, finding him watching me with a gentle look. Figuring I’d been projecting again, I cleared my throat. “Hi, Reaver.”

“Hello.” He dragged a bare foot across the stone floor in front of him. “How are you feeling, meyaah Liessa?”

“You don’t have to call me that. I’m Sera to you.” I patted Jadis’s back as she wiggled as wildly as tree bears were rumored to do. “And I feel fine.”

“I told Jadis that she’d be able to see you in the morning.” His fingers were curled around the hem of his tunic so tightly that his knuckles had bleached white. “We felt you when you woke up. Nek told us to give you guys some time, but Jadis has been scared. She didn’t know where you went,” he said, his voice carrying hints of frustration and fear. “No one would tell us where either of you went or let us see you when you returned.”

I lowered my chin to the top of Jadis’s head, my heart aching at the fine tremor in Reaver’s voice. “They didn’t want you to worry.”

“But we did worry.” Reaver’s head lifted then, his cheeks even redder, and his eyes, now as blue as Jadis’s, glistening. “And even though no one would say it, I know it was him.” His hands balled into fists as he looked up at Ash. “I know he took her, and then he took you.”

Jadis squirmed, twisting her long, slender neck toward Reaver.

“And we didn’t know if we would ever see either of you again.” Reaver’s voice trembled and cracked. “If you’d leave us like—” He cut himself off, his pointy chin jutting out as he clamped his jaw shut.

“We’re not leaving you.” Ash crouched before him so they were as close to eye level as possible. “Hear me? We will never leave you.”

Reaver gave a quick, jerky nod while Jadis planted her hands on my shoulders and pushed. She squawked—

My head whipped toward hers in surprise. She had made a sound that was nothing like any language I’d ever heard, but I swore I understood her clearly. She’d said, “down” in that sweet, high-pitched voice of hers.

I stared at her. There was no way I’d heard that. Ash had said it took him days to understand the draken.

“Sera and I are okay,” Ash said to Reaver. “You feel that, right?” He pressed his palm against Reaver, the width of his hand nearly that of the draken’s chest. “You can feel her right there.”

Reaver nodded.

I straightened, still holding on to Jadis. The draken wasn’t a fan of me holding her the way I was. Straining, she pushed harder against my shoulders.

“She’s not going to leave you,” Ash told him, keeping his voice low. “Neither will I.”

Reaver’s head jerked up and down, but that red flush now stained his throat, and his entire body trembled. He folded his arms tightly across his chest and hunched his shoulders.

Clasping the back of Reaver’s neck, Ash tilted his head. “I hate that either of you had to go through that. You shouldn’t have had to, but it’s okay to be upset. Understand? You can be angry, and you can be sad. You can even be afraid. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Sorrow filled me as Reaver’s face crumpled. He could be angry, sad, and scared, but damn it, he shouldn’t have to be any of those things.

Without saying a word, Ash gathered the young draken into his arms, lifting Reaver as he rose. A muffled, hoarse sob came from the child as Ash turned so Reaver remained hidden by his frame. Cradling the back of Reaver’s head, Ash spoke quietly as the youngling clung to his shoulders, the knuckles of his small hands bleached white from how tightly he held on.

Gods. Ash was…he was so damn good with Reaver.

Sensing that Reaver likely wanted some time to himself, I turned the wiggling Jadis to the table. I swallowed the knot in my throat and decided to go with the only thing I felt would distract her. “Jadis, baby? Would you like a strawberry?”

Jadis’s attention was still on Reaver, but her fully extended arms ceased their relentless pressure.

Tears filled my eyes as I smiled. “They’re very sweet and tasty.” I went around the table and sat on the couch. “I think you’ll like them.”

Jadis pulled her diamond-shaped head back, her incredibly big, blue eyes moving from me to the bowl and then to Reaver.

“They’re one of my favorite fruits.” I picked up a fork and sliced the strawberry in two. “Do you remember when I had you eat from a fork before?”

Jadis hesitated, then nodded as her hands returned to my hair, grabbing fistfuls.

Figuring that was a good sign, I picked up one of the halves. “Just in case you’ve forgotten, watch me.”

She didn’t take her eyes off me or the fork as I took an incredibly slow bite. She chirped twice.

“Me, me.”

“Me.” I whispered what I’d heard in my mind, utterly dumbfounded. Was I really hearing her? Getting the other strawberry half onto the fork, I glanced over at Ash and Reaver. The space where they had been was empty, and I wondered if they’d gone through the door in the bathing chamber that led to the adjoining meeting space.

Like before, Jadis stared at the utensil for several moments, her eyes narrowed. Her claws snagged in my hair as one hand let go and dropped to my arm. She tugged.

I smiled at her. “Ready?”

She snapped forward, closing her mouth around the fork. Her teeth clanged off the silver, but she did get the strawberry off without me losing the utensil or her losing a tooth.