Welcome To The Resistance.

Layah

I nearly run headfirst into Jordan as he rounds the corner into the living room, blood staining his clothes and dripping from a shallow cut along his temple.

“Is it done?” I pant, chest heaving.

“He’s dead. I tied up the wife,” he says briskly.

“You... killed my dad?” a voice says behind me, sharp with disbelief.

I whirl around to find Dylan standing there. His golden eyes are wide, mouth slightly open, like he’s still trying to make sense of the words. Jordan lifts his arm instinctively, blade ready, but I grab his wrist and shove it down.

“We had to,” I say tightly, not breaking Dylan’s gaze.

He blinks rapidly. “You what?”

His voice cracks on the last word. He takes a half-step back, looking like he just got punched. “You’re serious. You really… killed him?”

“He was part of the council,” I say softly. “He had blood on his hands.”

Dylan’s jaw tightens. He’s breathing heavily now, hands clenched at his sides. “You don’t know everything he did. He was my dad. He—” His voice cuts off, and he scrubs a hand down his face, like he's trying to pull himself together.

“I know this hurts,” I say, my tone firm but not unkind. “But he was responsible for hundreds of deaths. He wasn’t innocent.”

Dylan flinches. Silence stretches for a beat too long.

“Is my mum okay?” he asks quietly, his voice raw.

“She’ll be fine,” Jordan replies. “I locked her in the bathroom. She didn’t see anything.”

Dylan exhales shakily and nods, more to himself than to us. “Right. Okay. Yeah. Of course.”

He stands there for a moment, expression unreadable. Then: “So… where do we go now?”

I blink at him. “We?”

He gives a weak, crooked smile. “Well… I’m not about to stay in a house with a tied-up mum and a dead dad.”

“You’re not coming with us,” I say firmly.

Jordan glances between us, then steps back like he’s watching a show. Dylan straightens, brushing his palms on his pants. “Look, I didn’t exactly expect my night to end with a fairy mate and a dead parent, okay? But I’m not going to stand here and pretend like I didn’t feel what just happened between us. I’ve waited my whole damn life for a mate and I found her.”

“I don’t want a mate,” I snap.

He doesn’t flinch. “Too bad. The gods picked us and unless you plan to kill me next, I’m not leaving your side.”

Jordan lets out a low whistle. “The fates really went all in on this one.”

“Do you support the resistance?” he asks Dylan seriously.

Dylan hesitates. “I didn’t. I don’t know. My dad… He wasn’t all bad. He taught me how to shift. How to fly. He used to sneak me sweets before dinner. But I also knew something was wrong. I just didn’t want to see it. And now… now I can’t unsee it.”

His eyes flick to me.

“I support her.”

There’s a pause. Then Jordan holds out his hand. “Jordan. And if you’re good with me killing your father, then we’re cool. Let’s go, slayer.”

Dylan shakes his hand, and for a moment, there's a flicker of something...grief, guilt, maybe even relief on his face, but he swallows it down and follows us toward the hatch.

I drop through the hatch, light orb in hand, and wait for Jordan. Dylan climbs in after, sealing the hatch behind us. I glance up at him, deadpan.

“You seriously can’t come.”

“That’s ridiculous,” he says with all the dramatic flair of a romantic hero. “We’re mates. The gods themselves paired us. Where you go, I go and besides, Jordan said we’re cool.”

I glance over to Jordan, who’s clearly enjoying himself. Traitor.

“We literally just killed your father and tied up your mother,” I remind him flatly.

“Yeah, I know,” Dylan replies softly. “But I’ve waited my whole life to find my mate. I want to be with you.”

“You’re huge,” I say, exasperated.

“Oh, I know.” He grins, completely shameless.

“And you’re loud. You’ll draw attention. Plus, we’re actively planning to kill the rest of the council. You’ll be leaving your family, your species. We’ll be on the run, constantly in danger.”

“And yet,” he says sweetly, “you care.”

“Ugh!”

Jordan, grinning like a lunatic, throws his arm around Dylan’s shoulders. “C’mon little slayer, a dragon shifter could really help the resistance. And you know how the mate bond works, this guy would burn the world down for you.”

“Literally,” Dylan adds, puffing his chest proudly.

“Fine. Let’s just check on the others before we’re caught,” I grumble.

I only have to shush the two of them a million times before we reach the meeting point. Honestly, Jordan should know better. But he’s always been good at recruiting, natural extrovert, that one. I do a quick headcount and get reports from Henry and Nick. No casualties. No resistance. Apparently, no one even woke up during the fires.

“Yeah, that happens a lot,” Dylan pipes up cheerfully. “It’s hard to get the fire-breathing thing right when you’re young.”

Everyone looks up, startled.

“Uh… Slayer?” Nick asks cautiously. The whole group is suddenly on edge, eyes narrowing, hands moving subtly to weapons.

“We don’t hurt innocents,” I say firmly, before they can jump to conclusions. At the end of the day, we’re not out for vengeance, we’re out for justice. Peace. Equality. We’re not them.

“Did you… bring home a stray?” Nick continues.

“Ugh,” I groan, rubbing my temples.

Jordan jumps in, way too enthusiastically. “Everyone, meet Dylan, Demicus’ son and our little slayer’s mate! But don’t worry. He’s cool.”

Gasps ripple through the crowd as Dylan waves at them all like he’s been here forever.

“Dylan, this is everyone. Welcome to the resistance.”