“Consider it poetic justice,” I told him before turning off the device.

“Brava,” Bastian breathed, giving me a profound look of appreciation. That look died when Chuan Ren gestured her menfolk forward.

“Take him.”

“No! He is mine!” Bastian straddled his nephew’s body.

“I do not acknowledge your claim,” Chuan Ren said stubbornly.

Bastian hesitated a second, then turned to Drake. “I will let the weyr decide who shall receive Fiat if Chuan Ren swears to abide by the decision.”

She looked like murder for a moment; then her face became as implacable as ever. “Very well. The weyr shall decide.”

“Kostya?”

Kostya and Cyrene had been silent during the entire scene with Fiat, a fact I found interesting given suspicions about Kostya’s involvement with the rogue blue wyvern.

His black eyes moved from Fiat to his brother. “The black dragons feel that Bastian’s claim is stronger than Chuan Ren’s.”

She didn’t like that, but turned her gaze to Drake.

He was silent for a few moments before saying slowly, “About this, I am in agreement with Kostya. Bastian’s claim is stronger.”

“You pathetic little mewling bastard,” Chuan Ren said. “Ever afraid to go against popular opinion. What about you?” Her eyes went to Gabriel. “Think well before you vote, for I will not release the Song Phylactery should your vote cause me to lose confidence in you.”

My jaw sagged for a moment at the audacity in her threat.

“We had an agreement,” Gabriel said, his voice a little rough around the edges. Tension built inside him, but like Chuan Ren, he had masterful control over his emotions. “You were released from Abaddon as part of that agreement. You must honor that, or run afoul of the weyr.”

Muscles in her jaw worked for a second. “The weyr does not control me!”

“My vote is also for Bastian to have Fiat,” Gabriel said in defiance of her fury. “It is his dragons who have suffered the most by Fiat’s actions, and the survivors must determine how justice will be meted out. The red dragons suffered little in comparison.”

“You have just damned your mate to bear the shard forever,” Chuan Ren snorted, tossing her head.

“No, he hasn’t.”

The voice that spoke was low and soft, but firm in its intent. Chuan Ren looked first in shock, then unmasked rage as Jian walked over to Gabriel, bowed, and presented him with a golden box. “I made the agreement on behalf of my mother. I will honor it even if she is temporarily of another mind.”

Gabriel didn’t wait for Chuan Ren to respond. He simply took the box, handing it to Maata before thanking Jian. “It will be returned shortly.”

“I know,” Jian said simply, turning to face his mother’s wrath.

“We are done here,” she snarled, her hands fists as she shoved him out of the way, pausing at Gabriel. “I expect the phylactery to be in my hands by the time the sun sets tonight, or I will destroy you and your little mate.”

Gabriel said nothing, just arched a brow at her. She muttered under her breath as she charged out of the room, Li scattering muttered apologies as he followed in her wake.

Jian inclined his head to everyone and left, as well.

“I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes,” I said softly.

Gabriel smiled a slow smile. “I think he will make a very fine wyvern one day.”

“Wyvern? I didn’t think it was possible for the child of a wyvern to be one, as well. Don’t you have to have a human parent?”

“Yes.” Gabriel leaned close and whispered in my ear, “I thought at first that he was her actual son, but have since learned that my first suspicion was correct—her children are all dead. The term ‘son’ in this instance implies an heir rather than a blood relationship.”

“But she just said he wasn’t her heir, and he acknowledged Bao as wyvern.”

“She was warning him that she would disinherit him should he go against her wishes. As for Bao—I am not privy to what went on within the red sept, but I suspect he was following the wisest course.”

“Thank you,” Bastian said, watching as his guards hefted the now-comatose Fiat onto their shoulders and hauled him out of the room. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slim leather envelope, handing it to Gabriel. “The Marcella Phylactery. I know you will guard it well.”

“Indeed we will,” Gabriel said, accepting it. A sense of relief filled me—we had all the shards now, all the pieces needed to re-form the dragon heart.

Bastian hesitated. “I would like to see the heart re-formed, but I will understand if you are not comfortable with the thought of me being here.”

“The decision is not mine to make,” Gabriel said, turning to me. “May must perform the ceremony. If she wishes privacy to do so, I cannot gainsay her.”

I glanced at Gabriel, trying to judge whether he had a preference, before I answered. “It won’t bother me to have you present, Bastian, although I don’t promise there will be much to see.”

He smiled. “I will just make sure that Fiat is taken care of, then. I will return as quickly as possible.”

“That was very exciting,” Nora said, her eyes alight with interest. “I had no idea you could be so deadly, May. When you vanished from sight, and then reappeared behind Fiat, I gasped. I truly gasped. It was magnificent.”

“We mates have to do what we can to take care of our wyverns,” Cyrene piped up, putting her arm through Kostya’s and giving him an adoring look.

My lips twitched a little at the martyred expression on his face.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” I couldn’t help but ask him.

“No,” he said, then smiled when Cyrene bit his arm. “But it seems I have little choice. Your twin insists I can’t live without her, and unfortunately, she’s correct. Maddening, but correct.”

I laughed at the look of outrage on Cy’s face as she poked him in the chest, and would have warned Kostya of what he could expect living with her, but at that moment, two things happened.

Aisling appeared. “Drake, that thief taker is at the door. Pál won’t let him in until you give him the OK.”

Drake started to leave, but she stopped him by putting a hand on his arm. “There’s one other thing.”