The door opened. Aeron Lancaster entered the chambers carrying Onyx.

Onyx was wearing his tuxedo. The midnight black satin with gold accents, the fitted waistcoat, the polished gold collar. The tuxedo was immaculate, every seam intact, every detail pristine, the work of a tailor whose craftsmanship was being displayed on a baby dragon who was being carried into a room by a Master Mage whose resigned expression communicated that he had accepted this as part of his mage duties a long time ago.

Fin looked at the dragon in his Master Mage’s arms. He looked at the tuxedo. He looked at the gold collar. He looked at Aeron.

“What the hell is that?”

“I picked him up from dragon school today and he was wearing it,” Aeron replied, voice flat.

“The Draken Forces put him in a tuxedo,” Fin repeated.

“A fitted tuxedo. With a waistcoat.” Aeron held Onyx at a distance that suggested the dragon was a package being delivered rather than a creature being held. “The queen has been dressing him. The handlers confirmed he arrives every morning in formalwear and the formalwear is removed for training and replaced before pickup. He has a wardrobe, Finnick. The dragon has a wardrobe.”

Serena’s composure shattered.

“Oh, what a HANDSOME boy!” The words left her mouth at a volume and pitch that were entirely new, a register that existed exclusively for baby animals in formal attire and had never been activated in Finnick Shadowclaw’s chambers before this moment.

Her hands left Fin’s arms and reached for the dragon with urgent enthusiasm. Her priorities had just been reorganized by a tuxedo and her favorite baby dragon.

Fin watched his mate abandon him mid-embrace for his dragon in formalwear and felt the matebond confirm what his eyes were already telling him: he had been replaced.

Onyx squirmed out of Aeron’s arms with the focused determination of a creature who had heard his favorite word, which was any word spoken in that tone by that woman.

He hit the floor, skidded on the stone, and sprinted to Serena with his wings flared and his tail vertical and his chirps reaching a frequency that communicated pure, unfiltered joy.

She knelt. He launched. She caught him.

“It fits you perfectly,” she cooed, adjusting his collar and finding the fit impeccable. She looked over her shoulder at Fin. Her eyes were bright, her face flushed, her expression hopeful.

“Is Onyx coming too?”

Fin dragged a hand through his hair. The drag was slow, comprehensive, covering his entire skull, buying time for a man who had planned this evening with meticulous precision and had absolutely, categorically, at no point in the planning process, considered that the evening would include a baby dragon in formalwear.

He looked at Serena. He looked at Onyx, who was purring in her arms. The dragon was thrilled his tuxedo was being appreciated and Fin knew it. Onyx was his bonded and enjoyed Serena’s attention as much as he did.

The look on Serena’s face was doing something to his chest that he had no words for.

“I’ll bring him,” Aeron answered for Fin, his tone warmer than its usual register. He looked at Onyx. “No lighting anyone on fire. No crying. No wailing. If you embarrass me, I will tell Velkaris.”

Onyx gave an indignant huff. He tilted his head at Aeron with an expression that very clearly stated, I have standards and find that insulting.

Aeron gave the baby dragon an unimpressed look right back that said, I’ve seen you cry about not having a goddamn bottle. You and I both know what you’re capable of.

“He’ll be good,” Serena said. She looked down at Onyx in her arms. “He’s always such a good boy. Isn’t he.”

Onyx basked in the praise. Fin watched. His dragon was absolutely milking this. He had mastered the art of strategic cuteness. He knew exactly when to purr, when to chirp, when to nuzzle, and when to look up with those massive gold eyes that made every woman in his vicinity lose the ability to say no. The dragon was running a manipulation operation that would have impressed Riven Nightspire.

Xeon: Your dragon is stealing our mate.

Fin:He’s not stealing her. He’s borrowing her attention.

Fin looked at Aeron. Aeron looked at Fin. The look between them carried the shared understanding of two men who had just lost a negotiation to a woman holding a dragon and were choosing to file the loss under ’acceptable’ rather than ’defeat.’

“Give him to Aeron,” Fin said to Serena. “He will bring him. I want you beside me when we enter.”

Serena kissed Onyx’s head and handed him to Aeron. The transfer was gentle, careful, accompanied by a chirp from Onyx that said: I will permit this temporary separation because you asked, but the permission is conditional and the conditions are proximity and visibility.

Fin offered his arm. Serena took it.

✦✦✦

SHADOWCLAW – GRAND HALL

Shadowclaw’s Grand Hall was larger than Drakenfell’s and twice as dramatic, and Serena had never been inside of it until right now.

Throughout the space, Shadowclaw banners hung proud, sapphire with gold wolf crests.

White stone walls and tall columns lined both sides with torches burning. At the center hung a massive crystal chandelier that was breathtaking. She’d never seen one so large and that included Frostborne’s.

Then the full realization hit Serena.

RED FLAG NUMBER ONE:

The room was large enough to hold multiple ballrooms inside it, which meant the room was built for events of a scale that was NOT casual.

RED FLAG NUMBER TWO:

There were at least four hundred people in this room and every single person was in formal attire, which meant the event was significant, which meant the casual invitation an hour ago had been the opposite of casual.

RED FLAG NUMBER THREE:

Every person in the room was looking at the entrance, which meant the entrance was part of the event, which meant she was standing at the entrance on the arm of the Alpha King of Shadowclaw in a sapphire dress he had given her an hour ago with the specific intention of dressing her in his colors.

She glanced at Fin, eyes wide. Her mouth parted but no words came.

Did she just get played by Finnick Shadowclaw?

Yes, the answer was yes. She had been gently, thoroughly, comprehensively played by a man whose ability to manage expectations was a professional skill that he had just deployed on his own mate.

Fin flashed a grin that communicated zero guilt and full awareness of what he had done.

“What?”