Chapter 221: I Am the Territory

Lya stopped abruptly in the middle of the hallway, one hand braced against the wall, her eyes half-closed.

"Again?" Soraya asked, not even slowing down.

"Yeah. Damn it..."

She inhaled slowly, trying to calm the burning impulse rising within her. Her heart was pounding—but it wasn’t fear. It was something else. Older. More primal.

"Caleb’s in the courtyard with Loric," Soraya continued in a calm tone. "Exactly seventy-two meters away. You’re not going to burst into flames over that."

Lya turned her head toward her, pupils slightly slit. Scales shimmered just beneath the surface of her neck.

"My body wants to fly to them. Literally. My wings itch. And Kaelan stirs every time we move away from Caleb… or Loric."

"That’s normal," Soraya said with a shrug, as if commenting on the weather. "Draconic nesting instinct. At this stage of the pregnancy, your body sees any distance as a threat. Your baby is almost fully formed. You’ve become a hormonal and magical bomb ready to obliterate anything that gets too close to your territory."

"I am the territory," Lya growled. "And I might bite someone just for brushing against my bubble."

"That’s level two. Wait until you reach level three—when you growl because someone looked at Caleb the wrong way."

Lya growled louder, and her scales briefly gleamed under the light.

"I already did that yesterday. To a trainee warrior. He asked Caleb if he’d slept. I... hissed."

Soraya burst out laughing, stepping closer to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"It’s a miracle you didn’t burn down the hospital during your ultrasound. Seriously, Lya. What you’re going through is natural. A dragon mother protects. And right now, you’ve got a super-powered baby in your belly, a four-year-old wolf son you already see as your own, and a mate who makes you melt just by breathing. Your body, your fire, your mind—they don’t want to take any chances."

"Great. And I was planning to go to the baths alone..."

"Bad idea. You might spit fire at the water if it’s not warm enough. Come on. Let’s go join them before you reduce a few walls to ashes."

Lya silently accepted the help Soraya offered. Not because she felt weak, but because she knew she was on the brink of emotional combustion.

And deep inside her, Kaelan stirred. Calmed. Reassured.

Because her flames could sense theirs, so close now.

The late afternoon sun bathed the courtyard in a golden glow. Caleb, arms crossed, was speaking briefly with a newly promoted scout. Lya, with Soraya beside her, stopped a few meters away, observing absentmindedly… until it happened. Again.

"You look tired, Alpha. Rough night?" the scout asked in a too-casual tone.

A simple sentence. An innocent remark.

Or so it seemed.

Because the moment the words left the young lycan’s lips, a low, guttural, unmistakably draconic growl rolled through the courtyard.

A long, deep, terrifyingly primal Grrrrruuuuhh...

Silence fell.

Lya had taken a step forward, chin lifted, her blue eyes slicing through the air like blades. Scales already shimmered across her nape, and an invisible heat radiated from her, warping the air around her.

"...Excuse me?" the young man stammered, frozen in place.

Caleb didn’t flinch.

He turned slightly toward his mate, a shadow of a smile playing on his lips.

"It’s fine, love. He just asked a question," he said in that rough voice that was unmistakably his.

"He looked you in the eyes," Lya replied coldly. "And implied something."

"He said I looked tired."

"Exactly."

Soraya covered her mouth to hide a laugh. The scout was already mentally digging himself a grave.

Caleb sighed and stepped toward Lya… slowly, with that predator’s calm that made him so formidable.

"If I’m tired, maybe it’s because you wore me out all night with your burning dreams and your obsessive need to cling to me, hmm?"

He was close now, his blue eyes locked on hers, a frisson of tension in the air.

Lya opened her mouth… but no growl came. Just a breath.

"That’s... different."

"Mmm. I doubt it."

He leaned in to whisper near her ear:

"I love it when you growl. Especially when it’s for me."

She blushed. She, Lya.

And in a corner of the courtyard, Soraya, laughing silently, whispered to the frozen scout:

"You’ll survive. Someday. Maybe."

The young man had already vanished—likely off to bury himself in the archives or volunteer for a mission in leech-infested swamps.

But Caleb hadn’t moved.

He began circling his mate slowly, like a predator who had decided not to bite—for now.

"You know," he murmured, brushing her hip with his fingertips, "I think Kaelan likes it when you growl. He probably feels... safe. Protected. If he doesn’t have a possessive father, at least he’s got a mother who breathes fire to guard his fangs."

Lya shot him a look, her cheeks still tinged pink. Her pupils, slit and shining, had lost none of their bite.

"That wasn’t a growl. It was a... non-verbal warning."

Caleb stared at her a moment, then chuckled softly.

"You’re adorable when you lie, babe."

He leaned in, lips brushing her collarbone, just where her dress no longer covered her skin. His hand slid to her lower back, warm and familiar.

"You should’ve seen your face. He nearly fainted. And you—you were ready to drag me into a cave and keep me all to yourself."

Lya opened her mouth to retort—but his hand was already gliding slowly upward, dangerously so, his breath skimming her neck.

"You want to own me, Lya? Keep me? Go ahead. Growl again."

"Caleb..."

"Growl… for me."

She half-pushed him back, cheeks burning.

"You’re not supposed to turn on a pregnant woman in the middle of the pack’s courtyard."

He raised an eyebrow, mock-innocent:

"Who said I’m trying to turn you on? I’m just encouraging you to embrace your instincts."

"My instincts want to bite you."

"I promise I won’t struggle."

Lya growled. Literally.

"You are... unbearable."

Caleb leaned in even closer, his voice a whisper:

"And you’re delicious, babe."

Silence fell again… until a small voice rang out from the balcony above:

"MOOOOM? What’s ‘growling’? And why did Dad say he likes it?"

Caleb burst out laughing. Lya rolled her eyes and shouted back with all the dignity she could muster:

"It’s nothing, sweetheart! Go back to playing—Mommy just needs to bite an unconscious Alpha, then she’ll be right there."

"Okayyyyy!" Loric replied before returning to his toys.

Caleb, still laughing, leaned against her.

"See? Even our son is more relaxed than you."

"Relaxed? Want me to show you what my fire does when I’m not relaxed?"

"Please do," he murmured, his lips almost on hers.

They were one breath away from crossing a line no royal protocol could repair. One sigh from Caleb, and Lya would’ve scorched the entire courtyard.

But of course, that was the exact moment when the most inconvenient voice chose to interrupt:

"Uh… Am I interrupting something?"

A poorly disguised throat-clearing, followed by a crunch of gravel underfoot.

Caleb closed his eyes. Slowly.

Lya turned like a blade being drawn from its sheath.

Drake, arms crossed, tried to maintain his usual insolent grin—but the twitch of wings in Lya’s back was… clearly a threat.

"Drake," Caleb growled. "If you want your spine to remain intact, I suggest you turn around. Now."

But it was too late.

A deep, feline, guttural snarl ripped from Lya’s throat. Not a roar. Not a scream. No. This sharp, cutting growl—more panther than woman—shut down the intruder’s attempt at humor.

Drake’s pupils dilated.

"Oh... shit."

"Exactly," Caleb said, stepping back half a pace… just to enjoy the show.