7

7

Brie found Trace standing in the royal gardens, motionless before the marble fountain of mermaids. Moonlight rippled across the water, painting his face in silver and shadow. She stepped beside him and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said quietly, his voice edged with exhaustion.

“We need to find out what’s triggering Max before someone gets hurt,” Brie urged, keeping her tone calm.

“Then we do it without a dreamer,” he snapped.

“Trace…” she pleaded softly.

He turned toward her, eyes burning with old pain. “I killed six innocent people, Brie. Two were slayers, my friends. My father tampered with the sentinel effect and turned me into a weapon. I will not let him touch our son with that ability.”

She leaned in and kissed his cheek, her voice low and steady. “I understand. We’ll find another way. But remember, Trace, our infant son, barely a week old, is turning his sentinel into a weapon every time he dreams. Time isn’t on our side.”

She left him standing there, the sound of the fountain masking his silence. Trace didn’t move. He just kept staring into the water, trapped somewhere between memory and dread.

By early evening, the palace was in chaos. Servants rushed through the halls, shouting orders and packing supplies. The royal family had suddenly announced they were departing for Malta within the hour.

Mikan and Brie stood in the throne room trying to make sense of the sudden frenzy when Trace entered. Every head turned toward him.

“We have less than a day to reach Malta before Max wakes up,” Trace said curtly. “The gas doesn’t hold as long on sentinels. I’ll be present for the procedure, and if my father deviates from it in any way,” his voice dropped into a growl “I will personally kill him. Do you both understand?”

Brie and Mikan exchanged a wary glance and nodded silently.

“Good. We leave within the hour.” Trace turned on his heel and left.

Mikan sighed. “Oh, he’s going to be so pleasant on this trip.” He rolled his eyes and looked at his sentinel. “Come on, Cain. If he’s right and Max wakes sooner than expected, we’d better get him near Connor before he goes berserk looking for the baby.”

In the Draynor capital, the midnight shift had been doubled. Every available guard was reassigned to the main hangar for the royal ships’ unexpected arrival.

Avi and her team had been ordered to assist. Her nerves were on edge; she hadn’t expected to see the royals so soon. When she learned that her post was well away from the disembarkation point, she finally allowed herself a quiet sigh of relief.

The atmosphere in the hangar was nothing like the grand arrivals she’d read about. No ceremony. No formal greeting. The royals emerged from their ships like soldiers on a mission focused, grim, silent. Even the baby’s sentinel, Max, was the one carrying the young prince instead of the queen.

Mikan met the royal family in the center of the landing bay, then the entire group strode toward the palace without a word. Avi froze as they passed. Her breath caught when Mikan suddenly stopped and looked around, scanning the area. For one terrifying heartbeat, she thought he’d seen her. But then he turned away and continued on.

Lees elbowed her playfully. “Wow, you weren’t kidding. The royals really do make you nervous. I thought you were going to pass out when King Mikan looked your way.”

“So did I,” came a man’s voice from behind them.

Avi winced when she realized it was Officer Azar. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know what came over me.”

Azar chuckled softly. “Don’t worry about it. Something’s happening they all looked furious. We can deal with your nerves later.” He signaled to the two trainees. “Let’s get back to our post. We’ve got a cargo ship inbound within the hour.”

The three hurried back to their station as the hangar doors sealed shut behind the departing royals.

Inside the palace, the Drahoone delegation entered the throne room. Waiting for them were Trent, Captain Garrik, and Councilman Duncan. As soon as the royals arrived, the doors closed, and Squadron Five took position to ensure no one interrupted.

“Your Majesties,” Trent began, bowing slightly. “Welcome to the capital. I understand the urgency of the matter, so let’s begin. May I see the child?”

Brie hesitated before signaling to Max. Max stepped forward, holding Connor protectively. He stopped in front of Trent, allowing him only a glance at the baby but not to touch.

“I thought Mikan sedated you,” Trent remarked mildly. “Shouldn’t you still be asleep?”

“The gas didn’t last as long as expected,” Max replied, his tone wary. “I woke up during the flight.” He flinched every time Trent’s hand moved too close to Connor.Trent ignored the reaction but not the low growl rumbling from Trace’s throat.

“I don’t mind an audience,” Trent said carefully, glancing at Trace, “but I’ll need quiet to concentrate.”

Mikan spoke up before Trace could. “Brie, it was his idea to come. Calm his dragon before he hurts someone.”

Brie looked at her mate. Fire burned in Trace’s eyes, his control slipping. She moved close, pressing her palm to his chest. Whispering softly in his ear, she poured calm into his thoughts until the flames dimmed.

When his eyes finally cooled, she turned to Trent. “You may proceed. I have him under control.”

Trent inclined his head in gratitude and shifted his focus. “Max, please bring the baby to the table. Lay him on the blanket. I’ll sit beside him and only need to touch his arm. I don’t want you holding him in case something happens you could be drawn into the effect again.”

Max hesitated, then obeyed. He placed Connor gently on the blanket and stepped back, never taking his eyes off Trent.

“Mikan,” Trent continued, “I’d like you between me and Max. If the sentinel reacts to the child’s transformation, I won’t be fast enough to defend myself. As his superior, I’m counting on you to restrain him.”

Mikan smirked. “You can try to stop me,” Max muttered under his breath.

Mikan chuckled. “So sure of yourself. We’ll revisit that after this is over.”

Trent rolled his eyes. “If we’re all finished posturing, may I begin?”

“By all means,” Mikan said, still smiling.

Connor was already asleep, his breathing soft and even. It took several minutes for him to reach a deep, dream-state rhythm. When Trent finally placed his hand on the infant’s arm, Max shifted forward instinctively. Mikan immediately pressed him back with a sharp glare.

Across the room, Trace stiffened again, fire sparking faintly behind his eyes. Brie whispered soothing words, Straider ready at her side should Trace lose control.

Minutes passed. Then Connor began to fuss.

Trent didn’t move. His eyes were distant, locked in focus as he followed the child’s dreamscape.

The fussing turned to whimpers, then cries. Connor’s body tensed, his eyelids fluttering wildly.

“Trent?” Mikan warned.

“Almost there,” Trent murmured.

But Connor’s cries became a terrified wail. His eyes snapped open and in an instant, his form blurred, his small body shifting into a dragon.

“Mikan, stop Max!” Trent shouted.

Max’s roar answered first. Scales flared along his arms as he began to transform, his instincts driving him to protect.

Mikan surged forward, throwing his telepathic command like a blade. Stand down, Max. Stop!

The first command failed. Mikan pushed harder, sending the next one through the link, reinforced with authority and raw mental force. Stop now!

Max staggered, trembling under the weight of the order. Finally, he exhaled sharply, his transformation halting. Mikan caught him before he fell.

Connor, now calm in his sentinel’s arms, shifted back into his infant form, snuggling against Max’s chest. The tension in the room drained as Trace’s fire faded, leaving only silence.

Brie stepped forward. “What did you find?”

Trent looked up, his expression unreadable. “A few things,” he said carefully. “But first, a question.” His gaze swept the room. “Does Connor have use of royal telepathy and does he know who Max truly is to him?”