While one newlywed black dragon was discovering just what kind of surprises his biological family had left in there for him, a few dragons and their temporary caretakers were just trying to keep the peace.
Renee and Lawrence exchanged a look.
It was the kind of look that said, "So we're doing this now," without either of them needing to speak.
Because for some reason, the dragons, including their youngest son, who wasn't even a dragon per se, had decided that the correct course of action was to stand in a neat line and stare unblinkingly in the direction Riley and Lady Cirila had gone.
Four figures.
Two adults.
Two children.
All imposing, striking, and painfully obvious.
They stood there like immovable statues planted in the middle of the mall, pitiful and handsome at the same time, drawing glances from passersby who had no idea what kind of dramatic vigil they were witnessing.
Orien shifted from foot to foot. Then he stopped. Then he shifted again.
