#84 Complicated Constellation

Complicated Constellation
Ryanna POV

Breakfast ended in a blur of clinking plates and unsaid questions. I’d picked at fruit and pretended not to notice Veyra licking venison juice from her fingers like a promise. My men tried to play it cool...keyword tried. The bond buzzed against my skin, curious and electric. I stood, my chair scraping softly. That’s when the sky ripped open.

Not literally, just the sound of it. A thundercrack of wingbeats rolled across the courtyard, rattling chandeliers. Windows flashed with shadow. Dryke was already on his feet, his eyes gone draconic-green, a slow grin cutting across his face.

“Smile, princess,” he murmured. “Reinforcements.”

We spilled out onto the front steps. Dragons eclipsed the sun like living jewels. Three squads, then four, then six, banking in perfect formation. When they hit the lawn, turf trembled. Armor-clad dragonkin slid from harnesses, banners unfurling with the royal sigil of Drakorion and Selendria blazing silver-gold.

At the same time, the valley answered in wolf-song, four distinct howls, each a pack’s voice. Trucks and bikes and long convoys crested the road in a braided line of dust: My heart lurched as I felt them through Kaelan, Lucien, Rhydor, and Darian. There was pride, relief and the crackle of territory expanding to meet them.

“StarFury,” I said softly to the stone beneath my boots, to the sentience humming in the deep. “We need room. Housing, training fields, mess halls, armories. Two more hangars for the drakes.” The castle purred.

Stone shifted with a delighted groan. Courtyards breathed outward; walls rolled like waves, unfurling terraces and barracks and green-roofed commons in a blink. New kitchens lit. Bathhouses steamed to life. A flight yard blossomed beside the cliffs.The soldiers on the steps went silent, caught between awe and religion.

I grinned like a menace. “Thank you,” I whispered. A lantern flared in answer Then I moved. I kissed Kaelan first, quick and sweet, his hand bracketing my jaw as his golden eyes softened. “Go,” I told him. “They're here.” He nipped my lower lip and bolted, already barking orders as his betas swarmed the drive.

Lucien’s kiss landed next, slow and possessive. “Be good,” he murmured, his silver eyes cutting past my shoulder toward Veyra. “Define ‘good,’” I shot back, and he laughed, stalking off to meet his pack with his usual lethal grace.

Rhydor’s mouth met my forehead, a grounding press that warmed my spine. “I’ll handle my pack,” he rumbled. “Try not to start a war before lunch.”

“No promises,” I said, and he cracked a rare smile before striding away.

Darian’s kiss brushed the corner of my mouth. “I’ll get the quartermasters synced to StarFury’s stores.”

“Kiss me like you mean it, nerd,” I demanded. He did. Then he jogged off, shouting about supply chains and ammunition safes.

Dryke cupped my chin, dragging his thumb across my lip, his eyes molten. “My squads answer to you.”

“Then tell them to stop preening in my flowerbeds,” I said. He huffed smoke laughter and stalked toward his captains, barking in that arrogant, beautiful dragon way.

Aedryos dolded me into calm warmth, a kiss to my brow that steadied the entire axis of me. “I will anchor the wards.”

“Take Ze with you,” I said. Ze appeared as if the castle had spoken his name. He dipped his chin. “Come, brother.” They vanished in a ripple of starfire. And then there was noise...greetings, orders, laughter, the metallic hiss of lines snapping into place. The kind of chaos that meant we were building something enormous and real.

Which left me free to commit a different kind of trouble.

I turned. Veyra watched from the edge of the steps, her boots planted, arms folded, that sexy mouth quirked into sin. She pushed one hip out like a dare. “You have the same dream I did last night, Queen?”

Heat shot through me so fast I almost laughed. “Yeah,” I said. No use pretending. “Exactly the same.”

Her grin sharpened, a flash of fang. “What do the boys think?”

“I haven’t told them yet.”

“Of course you haven’t.” She tipped her chin toward the garden. “Walk with me.”

We slipped through the swell of arrivals, down a side path where climbing roses tangled across wrought iron and the noise of the world fell away. The morning smelled like dew and stone and lemon balm. Every few steps, her hand brushed mine, just an accidental graze. Sure. My skin lit anyway, sparks arcing under my ribs. The bond inside me thrummed with a new question, curious as a tide.

Her scent hit me first, cool night and clove, and a shadow of iron underneath. She inhaled too; I heard the quiet catch in her throat, watched her smile with fangs peeking, not hiding what she was or what she wanted. Dangerous. Gorgeous. A problem I very much planned to have.

We reached the old scriptorium at the garden’s heart, a stone pavilion veined with ivy and soft light. StarFury cracked a window open on a sigh, like it wanted to eavesdrop. Veyra stopped beneath the arch. I didn’t realize I’d stepped closer until the breeze slid behind me and I felt her breath on my cheek.

“This,” she whispered, a breath against my ear, “is going to complicate your constellation.” I snorted, my shoulders loosening on instinct. “Baby, my constellation is a disaster and a half. I think they’ll be fine.”