Page 64 of Destiny of the Dragons

Failed Mia, and Jace. He couldn’t be the person they needed to help them get through their issues, so instead everything fell apart.

He thought with time and space it would be different, but he couldn’t have been more wrong.

He went inside, the room filling with the scent of various dragons. It used to comfort him, but tonight it was too much.

The warehouse was a giant room filled with furniture to create smaller seating areas, and off to the side was an industrial-sized kitchen.

Dragons of all ages lounged on couches, sat in chairs typing away at laptops.

It wasn’t enough for the clanless dragons of Las Vegas, discarded like trash, but it was a start.

Jesse approached. Smoke pointed at his office in the back corner. He slept there most nights and there was a couch on it’s last legs in addition to his desk.

Jesse followed him into the office, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

Part of him hated how well Jesse was able to read him now. Smoke sat down in his chair. It creaked underneath him. “How are they doing?”

Jesse kept looking at him. He was a younger dragon, closing on his second molt. He was stable, for now, which was more than Smoke could say when he found Jesse.

Jesse raised an eyebrow. “So we’re not going to talk about how you look like someone just died?”

He wouldn’t talk about that. Would never talk about it.

“Fine,” Jesse huffed. “We’ve got tabs on the three about to molt. They’ve swung in and out of this location and Height Street, but so far they’re not close enough to bring them in.”

It would have been easier if they’d just stayed in one of the safe houses they made over the city, but Smoke didn’t blame them.

Smoke never thought his little project would grow to this size, but he was happily proven wrong.

“It’s only a matter of time before we’re no longer flying under the radar.” Jesse mused, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. He had brown hair, close cropped to his head, and preferred the beat up jeans and a t-shirt style that was so easy to replace.

Jesse had part of his Treasure as well, which made molting so much easier.

Smoke sighed. “I’m working on some plans.”

Most of those plans weren’t feasible. No witch was powerful enough to hide this many clanless dragons collecting in one spot.

The dragon clans shouldn’t care whether clanless dragons were collecting. They were thrown out onto the streets to live or die, after all.

Yet mysteriously, every time the clans got wind of clanless dragons banding together in large groups something happened and they disappeared. Joined clans.

It was going to be a problem. Smoke would have to barter with the clans to assure their safety.

He was hoping to have enough money stashed away to make that possible, but if the clans were already onto them, his plan was sunk before it got off the ground.

The door banged open and a female dragon stomped inside. She was vaguely familiar. She was a Diamond dragon, with silvery-blue hair pulled into a ponytail and legs that went on for days.

She glanced around. Dragons lounging on couches kept an eye on her, but no one was really alarmed.

“Who’s in charge?” She crossed her arms over her chest.

Jessed stepped in front of him. It was a nice gesture, even if Smoke was stronger than the younger dragon. He hadn’t done anything to earn his trust like that.

Smoke stepped forward. “What’s wrong?”

She stomped to the back of the warehouse, magic blowing off her in waves. Small whirlwinds circled around her, and the air tasted like ozone.

“Damn, Selene, you’re about two seconds from a molt.” Jesse frowned. “Where’s your Treasure?”

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