“Welcome our newest clanmate: Hele Varvaara Aždaja!” And then her dragons threw back their heads and roared with welcome. Fire danced, alcohol flowed, well-wishers pressed kisses to her cheeks and babies flew clumsily into her lap for attention. Her clan rejoiced. Some dark ache she had carried for eons began to ease. All the while, her dark-eyed dragon stood on the fringe of the merriment, his wings back and his gaze, proud and full of warmth, locked on her. He was not Clan Aždaja, but the fluttering in her stomach told her he belonged to her anyway.
