shoulder. “You gave him just enough to make him hungry, honey. I don’t think I can help you now.”
“Fine,” she said and stepped out from behind the big bear. “One little hint before Jake comes down. I’m not talking until we’re all together at the table, though. Here, give me that.” She reached for the kitchen knife in Gunther’s hand and he relinquished it.
She held out her free hand and pushed up her sleeve, summoning her dragon to the surface just long enough to manifest her scaled hide on that arm. Then she sliced the blade hard across it.
Both Gunther and Teague gasped and Gunther lunged for the knife, wresting it from her grip.
Ksenia laughed. “It’s okay! Look.” She held up her arm. Her scales faded, leaving behind no more than a pink line from the pressure of the knife against her otherwise unbroken skin.
“No fucking way,” Teague said, mouth agape at the lack of wound. He reached across the counter and grabbed her wrist, swiping a hand over her skin as if it had to be an illusion. Then he tilted his head back and bellowed, “Jake! Get your ass down here, now!”
“Dinner isn’t even done cooking yet!” Ksenia objected. “I require food for this story.”
But by the time she stopped speaking, Gunther had laid out a tray filled with cold meats, cheese, and fruit, little bread slices and crackers on the side, and an assortment of nuts and dried berries. He’d moved so fast she hadn’t even registered what he was doing until it was done.
“Just some appetizers. It counts as food, though.” Gunther waved at the table.
Ksenia couldn’t disagree. Her stomach rumbled and she let out a small huff, realizing she couldn’t put it off any longer.
“What’s up?” Jake said, ambling into the room. “Ooh, snacks.” He made a beeline for the food and filled a small plate as he sat down, looking at the others expectantly.
“Ksenia’s about to tell us her story,” Gunther explained, slipping back around the counter to resume cooking.
Teague moved to the head of the table and pulled out a chair, waving a hand to it. “Your throne, my dear. Because I’m pretty sure you’re about to tell us you’re the long-lost princess of the Sand Draken clan.”
She lifted one eyebrow at him as she sat, then took a breath. “Before I say anything, I need the three of you to pledge never to repeat what I tell you. I mean it. Thousands of lives are at stake if this secret gets out. Swear it to me.”
“I swear never to tell, Your Highness,” Teague said, raising a hand and giving her a solemn nod. The other two followed suit.
With a deep, steadying breath, she began. “Well, Teague isn’t that far off . . .”
She told them everything then, her story lasting through them demolishing the charcuterie board and then the enormous post-match meal Gunther cooked.
She had to begin with her clan’s history to catch them up, to prove that Clan Sandrekar really wasn’t a myth, but emphasizing that the world needed to keep believing they were. She didn’t want to out the entire clan, to be responsible for the world knowing they still lived, without their clan leaders being prepared.
Finally she told them of Myron’s discovery deep in the caves, and of hers and her friends’ decisions to leave in search of their dreams.
She pushed her plate away and swallowed the last of her wine, concluding with a sweep of an arm, “And the rest you guys know.”
They sat in silence for a moment longer, Gunther still finishing his supper with a solemn, thoughtful expression. Teague and Jake both stared at her. It was Jake who finally broke the lull.
“We need a cover story. Perhaps only a little of the truth. They’ll want to drug test you, of course. Perhaps if we suggest your family believed they descended from the Sandrekar, we can convince them to run a DNA test. When the test shows your genetic makeup aligns with that story, we can say that somehow your training activated your abilities, and the cloaking was merely a reflex in the heat of the moment. Something you didn’t even know you could do.”
“But it’ll look suspicious when they find out she’s pure-blooded Sandrekar,” Teague said. “They’ll want to dig, and we can’t let that happen.”
Gunther cleared his throat, and they all looked at him. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and sat back. “We need a League doctor we can trust. Ksenia, are