Page 32 of Dragon's Revenge

“I couldn’t agree more,” Palani said. “So, where do you want to start?”

“Minimal defense strength.” Adar looked around the room. “We start by deciding what we need as the bare minimum to defend both packs and the Doyle clan. Especially the new dragon omegas, since they’re so vulnerable. We have to keep everyone safe while we get the omegas out.”

Palani nodded. “We can bring the packs together if we…”

A door opened, and Fallon felt his power ripple through him even before he recognized who it was. Lidon. The alpha moved with his quiet grace, almost soundlessly, as he took his seat next to Palani. He must’ve been aware he’d interrupted, but he didn’t hesitate to kiss Palani firmly with a possessive, deep kiss that left no doubt about his claim on the man.

Only then did Lidon acknowledge the silence in the room. “My apologies for being late. I had an…urgent matter to take care of.”

Palani snorted. “An omega to fuck, you mean. I can smell Vieno on you…alpha.” He added the last word quickly when Lidon quirked an eyebrow.

“Jealous much?” Kean teased his brother, and then they all laughed, Fallon right along with them.

These men were incorrigible, but gods, did he love them. He’d follow Lidon to the ends of the earth and lay down his life for him and anyone else. Such a strange feeling to be so deeply connected to others with a bond that surpassed being mere friends. They were family. Brothers.

“I interrupted you, I think?” Lidon said to Palani.

“Adar mentioned we need to set up a defense first, and I suggested bringing the packs together. The Hayes pack can come here. It’ll be easier for us to make that move than for them, what with all the new omegas in the Doyle clan. They’re still recovering from their ordeal and shouldn’t be thrown into the turmoil of being relocated right now.”

Ordeal. There was a word that covered a multitude of sins, though Fallon didn’t know what to call it other than that.

“Make it happen,” Lidon said.

“Bray can set up a defense plan,” Palani told Adar. “All we need to do is assign him sufficient manpower, and he’ll get it done.”

“He’ll need more than manpower,” Fallon spoke up. “We need sufficient magic to defend the packs as well. It’s not mere mortals we’re fighting. If it’s a dragon attack, we’ll need magical abilities to withstand that.”

It still scared him, voicing his opinion like that, especially when Lidon was present. But he couldn’t keep his mouth shut when he knew they were making a tactical error.

“You’re right,” Adar said. “You and Jermon are our strongest magical dragons. Would you rather be in charge of the magical offense or defense?”

Fallon’s mouth dropped open. “In charge?” He looked at Jermon. “Shouldn’t you be…? Or someone else? I’m only an?—”

“You’re the one who saved my life,” Erwan said sharply. “Without you, the Murphys would have taken me. So cut the crap about you only being an omega. You can kick anyone’s ass here when it comes to magical abilities, and that includes my brother and me.”

Jermon leaned forward, nodding. “He’s right. You have the opportunity to go up against your abusers, Fallon. You’ve beaten them before, and we all know you can do it again. What do you say?”

Even if he lived to be five hundred years old, Fallon was certain he’d never forget the feeling that barreled through him. Knowing he had the trust of his leaders, the full confidence of their belief in his abilities, was the most powerful rush in the world.

He straightened his shoulders. “I’d be honored to lead the attack.”

“Awesome,” Adar said.

Gregor cleared his throat. “I’d be honored to help Bray in the defense.”

It had been a bit of a shock for Fallon to see Gregor again. Fallon had been a child when Gregor had left the Murphy clan for the Fitzgeralds, but he did remember him. No bad memories, but still, the association with the Murphys was always jarring.

“He’s the strongest red dragon I’ve ever seen,” Fergal said, his voice full of pride. “No one has ever beaten him.”

That fit what Fallon remembered of him.

Adar nodded. “Thank you. That’s a powerful ally to have on our side. What about you, King Fergal?”

“Just Fergal will do. And I’m?—”

“Not available for the frontlines,” Gregor said sharply. “And that’s not up for debate. You are the king of the Fitzgeralds, decimated as our clan might be. I have sworn an oath to keep you safe, and I will, even if it means tying you to your bed.”

Fergal’s cheeks grew red, but he raised his chin. “You meanourbed.”

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