Her Dragon King (Her Dragon King Duet 2)

Well, everything except The Death Maker, the sword FJ carries across his back on a scabbard. Even when he’s working out.

A few more weeks won’t matter, I’d assured Uncle Clyde. But yeah, I can see just how much those extra days mattered now as they approach with tears in their eyes. And I feel some kind of terrible about it.

“Thank the Fenrir wolf, you have returned to us!” Papa O says.

“You must tell us the tale of how you escaped the serpent who took you,” Dad says at the same time, only to cut off when he sees the baby.

“Oh my God, we were so worried!” Mom starts to say… only to stop as well when her tear-filled eyes shift from my face to follow the direction of FJ’s gaze...to the baby in my arms.

“Wait, what? Why do you have a baby?” she asks. “Why does she have a baby?”

She looks to Clyde, who looks more sheep than beta as he rubs the back of his neck and says, “Yeah, I kinda left some stuff out when I told you Ola was back...”

I’d wrapped the baby in a blanket before coming downstairs, so his wings, scaled stomach, and Ken Doll pelvis are all hidden. But I can tell by the way my parents are all sniffing the air that they’re putting together the story of what happened.

Fast.

“Yeah, I kinda left a lot of stuff out,” Clyde amends when they all stop, then turn as one to glare at him.

So that happened.

And did I say only three of my family members were waiting for me in the receiving room?

Make that five. My dads had told Aunt Myrna I was back as soon as they heard, and she’d decided to pop in for the reunion in hologram form…along with her husband Rafes. And huge shock—my president cousin was not happy about me showing back up here with the baby of a dragon he considers the number one enemy of the wolf state.

I know this because Rafes is yelling at me louder than anyone else.

“How could you keep it from us that you’ve given birth to the baby of the number one enemy of the wolf state,” he demands.

“Number one?” I repeat. “It’s only our family he doesn’t like. I think all the other wolves are safe.”

“I can understand your sister lying with the great Odin who not only refrained from participating in the great serpent battle but also gave us invaluable guidance so that we might win,” FJ says. “But this male. This male slaughtered half my village.”

“Yes, I know what happened hundreds of years ago,” I answer. “It’s a lot to forgive someone for…just like it would be a lot for him to forgive you for killing his father.”

Dad’s eyes narrow. “The serpent I felled was his father?”

“Yes!” I answer. A shimmer of hope rises inside my chest. Maybe knowing exactly who they killed will actually convince my dads to stop hating my mate.

But that shimmer of hope dies hard when Papa says, “It matters not who the serpent was. Only what he did. The father he mourns only died because their serpent horde chose to attack our village!”

I stick the last of the bottles into Bazzi’s mouth. “You know I love the two of you, and Mom told me a long time ago I wasn’t allowed to point out the obvious to the both of you because you were too traumatized or whatever to handle the truth.”

“Ola, don’t,” Mom warns, scrunching her face like she does whenever I start popping off truth bullets. “You told me you wouldn’t.”

But I didn’t promise, I mentally note. I always keep my promises, but maybe I knew something like this day would come, so I’d made sure to stop short of promising her to hold my tongue after putting a few disturbing things together about my dads’ backstory.

I shake my head at her, “I’m sorry, Mom, but I’ve gotta point it out.” I turn back to my dads. “It wasn’t like the dragons attacked a village filled with pious saints. You were Viking werewolves, with an emphasis on viking.”

I look toward Dad especially, since Papa and Myrna always stayed behind. “Those special trips you and Grandpa Fenris took all over the known world? They weren’t exactly like our family vacations to Disneyworld, right? If I’m not mistaken viking is still Norwegian for raiding the shit out of places. And now you want to act forever tragic because my mate attacked your village out of the blue? You know, just like you and Grandpa Fenris did to countless human settlements, including churches and monasteries, right?”

“That is different,” Aunt Myrna says, gritting her low-res jaw in defense of her father and brother.

“Really?” I answer, tilting my head at her. “I’m so curious to hear how.”

“You are and have always been a disrespectful daughter,” Dad roars, pointing a finger at me. “That you would defend that serpent in this manner. That you would take his side over ours.”