The Missing Son

The world narrowed to those three terrifying words scrawled on the stone wall: "WE TOOK HIM."
It was a cold, calculated strike, using the chaos of the hall as a blinding distraction. The blood wasn't dark and magical like the attackers' energy; it was the raw, fresh color of a human wound.
My mind raced through the terrible possibilities. Both boys had left the hospital only this morning. They were recovered, but not yet shielded by their full, adult power. They were vulnerable.
Marcus turned from the wall, his face a horrifying mask of dragon-rage and parental agony. "Which one?" he choked out, his voice a sound of pure, torn anguish. "Sophie, tell us! Which of your brothers did they take?!"
Sophie, who had only just been pulled from the grip of the enemy, stumbled forward, her eyes wide with shock and guilt. "I left them in the west wing, in the family study. They were setting up the games console! I only left them for five minutes to check the security logs. It was Adrian. His game was still running, and the window... it was open."
Adrian. My sensitive, brilliant youngest son. The one who still carried the lingering, pure power of his recent blood transfusion, making him an exceptionally potent target. The one who had endured the most pain to save my life.
Marcus didn't scream or roar. He went unnervingly still. The transition was instant and terrifying: the protective mate vanished, replaced by the ancient, predatory Dragon King. The dragon scales that had been merely visible now erupted across his body, turning him into a terrifying silhouette of muscle and shimmering gold armor. His eyes were twin furnaces.
"Lyra," his voice was a low, resonant rumble that shook the crystal chandeliers. "Seal the palace. No one leaves. No one enters. You and your best Guards check every shadow, every hidden path for a trace of their scent. If you find the attacker's path, you follow it to the edge of the wards, and you wait for my command."
"Yes, Your Majesty," the Captain stammered, already snapping orders to her men.

The Desperate Lie

Marcus turned to me, his raw fear momentarily breaking through the dragon’s rage. He grabbed my shoulders, his grip almost bruising.
"I need to hunt. I need to burn them to ash," he growled. "But I need you safe. And I need you to hold this palace together. We have the full moon. That's our deadline. Find out what the Ascent Ritual requires."
I knew this was the moment. The secret about Selene, the truth about the broken balance—it all fed into this ritual. Adrian’s life depended on understanding it. But Marcus was already half-gone, consumed by the need to hunt. To crush him now with the guilt of Selene's suffering would be fatal to the mission.
"I will," I promised, pressing my hand against his scaly cheek. "I will find every detail, every requirement. We know they need blood to fuel a God's arrival. The Ascendancy is a transfer of power. We have the next full moon. We focus on that. We focus on finding where they have him."
I met his fiery gaze, forcing down the overwhelming urge to confess my pregnancy. This was not the time for joy, or for added worry. I needed him sharp, focused, and terrifyingly efficient.
He didn't need a mate right now; he needed a Queen who wouldn't break.

Tracing the Shadow

Marcus vanished, launching himself out of a shattered hall window and into the deepening twilight, a roaring streak of golden fire destined for the catacombs and beyond.
I turned back to Sophie. She was kneeling by the shattered glass, shaking.
"Sophie, listen to me," I commanded, forcing my tone to be sharp. "Your pain is understandable, but we cannot afford it. Adrian's life depends on us being functional."
She looked up, her eyes clearing with resolve. "What do you need, Mom?"
"We know the vampire, Emrys, was paid by a cloaked man. We know the destination is the next full moon. We need to find out what kind of power or God they are trying to bring into the world."
I pointed to the scrawled message on the wall. "That blood is a powerful tracer. We can't let it dry. Get the witch. Get the seer. I want to know who that blood belongs to, what magical imprint is left on it, and if it can tell us where they took Adrian."
"The witch is already in the research room with the ancient texts," Sophie said, pushing herself to her feet. "I'll get her. We'll start with the blood."

The focus shifted entirely from defense to the frantic, desperate search. Sophie rushed to gather the experts. I remained in the hall, gazing at the place where Adrian had been taken.
I felt the immense pull of Marcus's grief and rage even miles away, a storm gathering on the horizon of my mind. The Dragon King was on the hunt, and the enemy had just committed the ultimate sin: they had taken a child.
But as I stood there, the full moon now weeks away, the clock ticking, I felt a different energy stir—a slow, persistent warmth low in my belly. The pure, growing life of our unborn child, a silent, powerful promise in the face of death.
They wanted to sacrifice a son to bring about the end of our reign.
We would give them a new, stronger one to ensure our future.
I placed a hand protectively over my still-flat stomach, taking a deep breath and focusing on the blood on the wall.
Find Adrian. Cure this world. Tell Marcus later.
The secrets I held were a burden, but they were also a temporary source of unparalleled strength. I would use every weapon at my disposal, hidden or otherwise, to bring my son home.