“What did you say?” Dragos said, even though Graydon knew the dragon had heard Liam perfectly. “Sit up straight when you’re talking, and look at me.”

Moving deliberately, Liam did more than sit up straight. He pushed to his feet and turned to face his father.

He didn’t seem angry, Graydon noted. Nor did he act defiant. There was something set in his young-looking, handsome expression, as if he had made up his mind, and nothing in the world was going to change it.

For several months now, everyone had been wondering if and how Liam might act out in teenage rebellion.

Here we go, Graydon thought. He braced himself.

Meeting Dragos’s gaze, Liam said in a calm, steady voice, “That sentinel position is mine.”

“No, it isn’t,” Dragos said. His relaxed impassivity had vaporized. Now, even though he spoke as calmly as his son did, sharp authority had entered his demeanor. “I will give you a great many things, Liam. I will give you a home, and I will give you my love. I’ll give you the best education, and when the time comes, I would be very pleased to give you a strong starting position in my company. But I will not give you this.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” said Liam. His arms hung at his sides, but Graydon noted that his hands had clenched into fists.

Ever since his birth, Liam’s Wyr form, the dragon, had strained to reach full-size. In times of stress or crisis, especially, the boy had gone through several growth spurts already.

Now the Wyr demesne faced another challenge that struck at the foundation of its existence. Did the boy stand a little taller than he had the last time Graydon had seen him? Was he broader now across the shoulders, his voice deeper?

Dragos said, “This conversation is over.”

“Wait,” Pia said unexpectedly. “Dragos, hear him out.”

Of all the people present, Graydon had not expected Pia to be the one who spoke up. She had been deeply shaken the first couple of times Liam had gone through a growth spurt.

She wasn’t any longer. Now as she watched Liam with a fascinated respect, along with so much love, she reminded him of the tireless devotion Bel had given to Ferion.

Dragos gave his mate a considering glance. As Pia slid out of the chair to perch on the arm of the nearby couch, Dragos leaned forward in his seat, leaning his elbows on his knees and staring up at Liam. Somehow, in those simple adjustments, Dragos’s armchair had become a throne.

“All right,” Dragos said to his son. “Speak your piece.”

Liam glanced around the room. “My dragon is already bigger than any sentinel here,” he said. “In fact, my dragon is bigger and stronger than anybody else in this room except for you, and I’m faster than anybody else, except for Mom. The only reason why I don’t win in the training sessions now is because I don’t have enough experience. Yet.”

Dragos raised one sleek black eyebrow. “You are correct on all accounts. And your last point is the essential one.”

“Where will I fit in this demesne when I finish growing?” Liam asked. “And you know I’m going to finish growing soon. What job could I possibly take that will satisfy my dragon?” He paused, his body tight. “How do I get experience if I don’t do anything to earn it?”

Beside Graydon, Bel stirred. The discomfort in her expression threw him back to what she had once said about Ferion living a half life, never allowed to take too much responsibility in his father’s demesne, yet never allowed to roam free either.

Disquieted by the memory, he frowned.

“You ask compelling questions for which we don’t have answers, yet.” Dragos’s voice softened. “We will find answers, and you do have a place and a home where you’re valued and loved, always. Always, Liam. But still, I will not give you that sentinel position.”

“I’m not asking for you to give it to me,” Liam said. “I’ll fight for it. I’ll take it – just like every other sentinel has taken their position. I’ll make it mine. What I want you to do is give me time to get ready for the fight. Dad, don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t want to work in your company. And our demesne is so strong, this is the first time a sentinel has ever died, and this chance isn’t going to come around again, soon or even ever. The only thing that would be worse than not letting me at least try would be to create an eighth position just because I’m your son.”

There was pain in that last sentence, enough pain that when he fell silent, nobody spoke again for long moments.

Finally, Dragos stirred. Telepathically, he asked Graydon, What do you think?

Graydon chose his response with care. He said, I think if you don’t let him try, it’ll create a rift between you that might take a while to heal.

The dragon’s fierce gold gaze flashed to him. I’m concerned about that too, but that’s not enough of a reason, Gray.

Pausing a moment to think, he came at it from a different angle. If he tries and fails, he’ll have done what he needed to do, and he’ll have answered his own question. If he tries and wins, the demesne won’t suffer, and he will have earned a place that I think he needs badly. He doesn’t know how he fits in this world, Dragos. Young people don’t, and in some ways, his situation is harder than most.

Dragos’s dark brows came together as he listened. Graydon couldn’t tell what the other male was thinking, but at least he listened.

He added, And he’s right – if you try to create a position for him, it won’t feel real. Give him a chance. That’s all he’s asking for, just a chance. He took a deep breath. It’ll be a challenge to keep the position open, but we can hire extra staff. If you’ll agree to it, we can somehow make it work.

Dragos’s gaze left Graydon to travel to Pia. After another long pause, she gave him a small nod.

Only then did Dragos turn back to Liam. The boy had never once looked away from his father. As the silence had grown prolonged, he had whitened, and his heart was in his eyes.