The dragon egg is entirely Kai’s fault. Chanyeol slams the trunk of the car back down as soon as he spots it, hiding the golden scales from view. “Where the did you get this?” he hisses. 

Kai laughs, leaning haphazardly across the roof of the Mercedes and likely scratching the paintwork in the process. “Jeez, it’s not real. Calm down. What did you think I’d done? Stolen it from a museum?”

Chanyeol turns suspicious eyes to Kyungsoo who is as always, ever-present at Kai’s side. “Is he telling the truth?”

Kyungsoo rather cleverly keeps his gaze firmly on the poppy-shaped fire opal pinned to Chanyeol’s lapel; the picture of perfect deference to someone of a higher status... or in this case, perfect cover. Chanyeol ducks his head, trying to meet the squire’s eyes but Kai pushes off the car and steps smoothly between them both. “You know I don’t pay him to talk.”

Just visible behind Kai’s shoulder Kyungsoo rolls his eyes. A hand sneaks out and Kai smoothly receives a solid pinch to one arm. Chanyeol’s mouth quirks up as Kai jumps a foot. “You’ve also never paid him to be respectful to you either.”

Kai snorts, turning and lightly scrubbing his hand over Kyungsoo’s bare head, perpetually clipped short to display his status. “It’s a damn good thing loyal manservants are hard to find.” The move is (and always as been) gently borne by Kyungsoo with an air of fond tolerance.

As for the harsh words that Kai’s spouted a million times over, the tone holds nothing but warmth and Chanyeol smiles at his friends despite the… object he’s still not sure is entirely legal presently sitting stashed in the back of his car. The car that Kai had borrowed only two hours before, promising to return with something he’d ordered.

“Was this what you went to get?”

“Yes. Perfect centerpiece for the party. Everyone’ll love it, the bride-to-be included.”

“We’ve been through this.” Chanyeol lets out a breath, looking beyond his tiny group out towards the rest of the university carpark. It’s nearly empty at this late hour of the afternoon, thank god. Only sparrows and small knots of students leaving the library, all too far away to notice the three men nestled in the furthest parking spot. “Stop calling it a party. It’s a formal meeting. Delegates and all.”

“Call it what you will,” Kai taps the back of his hand against Chanyeol’s chest as Kyungsoo rounds the back of the car and opens the boot again. “Come the end of it you’re getting engaged whether you like this girl or not. You don’t exactly have a lot of other options. Not to be dramatic, but-”

Kyungsoo lifts the gigantic egg out of the trunk and deposits in Chanyeol’s less than willing arms. He clutches the object, feeling the sharp scales scratch through his sweater as Kai levels him with a somber look.

“-if you don’t take the Night King of Oregon’s offer, California will be all but defenseless come the winter. You know the vamps in Nevada brokered that treaty with Arizona for a reason.”

“I know, I know.” Chanyeol mutters, miserable. “Because more darkness is just what we need when facing down things that are at their most powerful after sundown.”

“They’re big kingdoms. If they truly want the war they keep badgering about, they’re going to push for it when our fleet is all but useless in the cold. Doesn’t take a tactical genius to figure that out.”

The scales have become pinpricks of pain up and down his forearms, the egg clutched far too tightly. Chanyeol forces his tensed arms to relax, releasing the pressure. It takes a conscious effort. “Just… stop going on about it please. I’ve heard that a thousand times over from my father already.”

A pained silence descends, heavy with the conversation that’s been retrodden by the three of them countless times since the union was proposed in the summer just gone; poked and prodded at and examined from all angles in the hopes of any kind of loophole possible. Kai may faithfully try to make light of it but all of them know the answer by now and it burns like ice swallowed whole.

The roar of a motorbike kicks off as a student at the other end of the parking lot starts their journey home, a trio of fairies tucked safely into the black leather bag strapped to the back of the bike. By the colour of their wings they’re economics majors. Chanyeol looks away. Next to him Kyungsoo still looks helpless and sad at the whole stupid predicament and Chanyeol can’t say he blames him, not really.

It big time to be forced into something you’ve never wanted. even harder when you’re of royal birth and the fate of what you were sworn to protect lies not in glorious battles like the tales of old, but in bureaucratic ribbons that twist into arranged marriages to broker safe allegiances through the coming years for a costal kingdom with nowhere to turn should the neighboring rulers grow ornery and ever more warmongering. Strength in huddling in large numbers. How utterly… uninspiring.

Chanyeol turns, the price tag on the stupid fake dragon’s egg slipping free from under one hand to flap in the wind. Figures. Where’s the old magic when you really need it?

~*~

The gates click open, swinging wide. Chanyeol rolls the steering wheel and pulls off Castle drive, slowly curving between the huge white structures as they part. The Mercedes grumbles, perpetually disappointed at not finding itself speeding along a freeway somewhere every time Chanyeol drops it below third gear. Hooking an arm out the rolled-down window he pats the gleaming side and then waves distractedly at the snipers in the tower as he passes, the retinal scanners at the entrance already having identified him as a member of the Park family and granted him access.

The floor of the expansive garage lowers the moment he rolls to a stop on it, sinking below ground. Each of the luxury cars that are housed down there has their stalls adorned with the vehicle’s name and without hesitation Chanyeol swings the car into the spot labelled Inferno. He cuts the engine and sits back, resting his head against the top of the seat.

Get it together, Chanyeol. C’mon. It’s not the end of the world.

Yanking the keys from the ignition he grabs his sword from the passenger seat and steps out, sliding the heavy weapon into the scabbard on his belt as he makes his way around to the trunk.

The scaled monstrosity sits just where he left it, tucked into a makeshift nest fashioned from an old, rolled-up coat. Chanyeol reaches in and hauls the dragon egg out, propping it on one hip as he shuts the trunk lid. Pocketing the car keys he makes for the elevator.

The gleaming buttons for the above floors are each adorned with fire opals in the shape of the orange poppy motif identical to the one he always wears; both the state flower and for the past few hundred years the symbol of the last royal family of Los Angeles. Chanyeol punches the topmost floor and leans back against the gilded walls as the tiny space shudders and slides upwards.

Tonight. Seven in the evening. Three hours away. Such an innocuous time for the meeting to end all meetings. The kind of hour you should be settling down on the couch with a good movie or even eating a late dinner. Maybe with someone you cared for. Someone who shared the same space, was there to welcome you home with warm smiles and even warmer arms-

The floor dings its imminent arrival and Chanyeol snarls at himself, snapping out of the daydream. Because that’s all it was. All it will ever be. This girl -whoever she is- could be fine for all he knew. Could be awful too, his mind supplies. This daughter of Oregon. The Night King’s child.

Your future wife.

The door to his quarters smacks against the wall and Chanyeol catches the rebound as he strides through. It wasn’t fair. None of this was goddamn fair. His reflection passes the mirror just as he does and that causes him to stop, backtracking. He looks like crap. Hair sticking up at all angles, disheveled, clutching the stupid overpriced paperweight. What an absolute joke.

The dragon egg is unceremoniously dumped on the table beside the crackling fireplace, coat and all. Chanyeol’s sword follows along with it’s scabbard belt and then his sweater and shirt. Presentable. He needs to be presentable. The King of California’s firstborn. Heir to the Park empire and tonight… the single last hope this kingdom has against the steadily uniting vampire clans to the east. And here he was spending his final evening before the official marital arrangement being given gag gifts by his friends in a desperate attempt to cheer him up.

Shirtless, he stomps to the ensuite bathroom and chases the pair of manservants there out with a wave of his hand. The sight of the folded, gem-adorned dark blue suit waiting beside the huge brass tub stops him dead in his tracks. Traditional uniform. Yeah, this whole thing was definitely someone’s idea of the worst joke possible.

~*~

The banging on the kitchen door is loud, angry and belongs to one very pissed off King. Chanyeol flicks the heavy top latch on the wood before it can be forced open and backs up, scanning the shelves.

“So help me you get back out here Chanyeol or I’m calling the guards. You can’t just embarrass the family like that.”

Chanyeol plucks a glass tumbler from amongst one of the many that dot the top shelf, ducking under a low-hanging rack of pots. Cook always keeps his stash of bourbon somewhere obvious…

“This is a disgrace. You’re being a child.”

The furious banging continues. Chanyeol finally tugs the bottle from behind a pile of recipe books and calls back over one shoulder.

“She’s a harpy! A card carrying, eagle-eyed, pretty sure there’s talons under that dress harpy, father. I’m not marrying that.”

“You don’t have a choice! This is bigger than you, bigger than all of us. You know that. Don’t be so goddamned selfish.”

“You know what they’re like just as much as I do!” The bourbon sloshes like liquid gold into the tumbler. Gold like dragon scales. Chanyeol blinks and then downs the contents in one gulp, waving the empty glass behind himself in the direction of the bolted door. “I’ll figure something else out. I will. I just…” his voice drops. “I can’t do that.”

“Chanyeol…”

The tumbler is cool against his forehead. Holding it there also keeps his hand from shaking too badly. “I’m sorry, father. I really am.”

The cacophony outside finally ceases. There’s a faint thump like the King has placed a palm against the door and a heavy sigh. “Okay, stay there. I’ll go… see to the delegates. I’m sure I can calm them down.” There’s a pause and then Chanyeol hears a faint, “Ruffled feathers and all.”

It hurts to laugh, so Chanyeol settles for tucking himself into the far corner of the kitchen, sliding down the wall with the bottle and pulling his knees to his chest. The expensive blue suit crumples all to hell with the move and he couldn’t care in the least.

~*~

It’s a blessing the guard pixies have known him long enough that they don’t raise the alarm when he stumbles through the deserted corridors at an ungodly hour. They merely flit from tapestry to tapestry at a respectful distance, keeping an eye on him. Probably also to make sure he doesn’t pass out somewhere. How loyal.

It takes him several attempts because the lock keeps swimming before his eyes but eventually Chanyeol tumbles through the door to his room, almost-empty bottle clutched in one hand. He’d given up on the glass somewhere after midnight.

God. A harpy. The moment he’d first been introduced her he’d known she wasn’t entirely human. Not that most of the royal families were entirely of human descent nowadays anyway, but something had been particularly strange about her eyes…

Violent, cruel and quick to anger, harpies were long known for their particularly sadistic nature, even those who chose in the recent centuries to side with humans. Often employed by the military, their methods of torture were legendary.

The last of the bottle’s contents tastes foul as it slips over his tongue and Chanyeol grimaces. Goddammit, why couldn’t this arrangement have been simple? He’d have put up with almost anything to make this deal but something that horrible was beyond even his manners and obedience to the crown. Those things specialize in pain and misery. His father was right; it’s entirely selfish but he can’t…

And with that decision the last hope his kingdom has of an allegiance against the east dies. Chanyeol flings the bottle into the fire. Staggering with the move and all the booze in his blood he knocks into the table next to it, toppling the piece of furniture over. The ridiculous egg falls off, rolling into the hot grate that keeps the sparks from falling onto the hearth. Chanyeol ignores it, slumping into a heap on the carpet.

He needs to find another way. Some other plan. Anything. If the covens march on the south-eastern borders his father will have to respond. And the last time he led an army was before Chanyeol was even born. He’s too old now. If he rides out to face the vampires he’ll fall. Or be taken and turned. Chanyeol’s hands ball into fists. He can’t lose him. Not like that...

He’s not entirely sure if he passes out while thinking or not, but the fire is suddenly embers in the grate by the time Chanyeol notices the room again and from where he’s still sitting his head is starting to feel like he’s lost to Kai in a decent fistfight. But it’s not the pain that’s roused him. It’s the soft, insistent peeping sound from near the fireplace. Chanyeol squints.

The egg lies cracked, the side that’s still resting against the grate broken open. And inside looking immeasurably pleased with itself sits a tiny white and gold dragon. Chanyeol scrambles backwards, shoulders eventually colliding with the side of the bed.

“What the hell?”

At the sound of his voice the dragon perks up, peering in his direction. Clumsy little claw-tipped paws are put to work and the dragon tumbles itself out of the egg shell, padding over towards him.

Chanyeol climbs the bed.

The dragon reaches somewhere near the foot of the bed and Chanyeol can hear a sad-sounding warble from down there because he’s out of sight but holy crap that’s a dragon. A real live one. Not something in a museum. His head swims dangerously. That’s not possible.

Wait. That… is a dragon right? He’s not still passed out? This is too insane to be real. Dragons became extinct in his great-grandfather’s era. There’s not been a living one in centuries. What was in that bottle of bourbon? Chanyeol scrubs his eyes and chances a look over the edge of the bed.

The dragon is chewing on a corner of the cover, mouthing at it experimentally. When it spots Chanyeol again though it drops the material and peeps up at him happily, stretching up on its hind legs to paw as high as it can reach. Slowly, ever so slowly, Chanyeol sits back and fumbles around in his suit jacket pocket for his cell phone.

Kai answers in the final ring. “It’s like three am, dude.”

Chanyeol ignores him. “Where the hell did you get that egg?”

There’s silence on the other end as Kai’s sleepy brain catches up. “Y’mean the dragon egg?”

“No the chicken egg. What else do you think I’m talking about?”

“Are you drunk?”

“I am. I was.” Chanyeol pinches the bridge of his nose. The corner of the cover where it tumbles over the edge of the bed is moving rhythmically again. “But it doesn’t matter. Where. Did. You. Get. The. Egg?”

A shuffle of bedsheets accompanies Kai’s words. “A trader. Came to the Uni a week ago but the campus pixies chased him off. He hung around for a bit outside the grounds though, had some cool stuff. Now,” he yawns. “Why the hell are you calling me to ask me this at o’clock in the morning?”

Chanyeol clutches the phone with still-inebriated fingers. “Because,” he hisses. “There’s a dragon in my room.”

“What are you talking about?”

“A live one. The real thing. Kai you know better than to buy stuff from traveling traders. They’re half baked wizards at best and now I have a goddamn dragon.”

There’s a long pause and when Kai speaks again his tone is deliberately gentle. “You’ve probably had a helluva night. And you’ve been drinking.”

“Kai,”

“So I’m going to talk to you about it in the morning-”

“Kai. Listen to me.”

“-when you’re sober. And not hallucinating weird crap You know better than to sneak any of your cook’s stash. He laces that stuff with his own home brew. Go to sleep. You can tell me all about it tomorrow.”

“No, wait I-”

“Goodnight Chanyeol.”

The line goes dead. Chanyeol squeezes the device until he can feel his fingers again. Taking a long breath he drops the phone on the bedside table and runs an unsteady hand through his hair. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

The chewing of the covers has stopped completely. Chanyeol peers over the edge again. Left alone and ignored the dragon has curled itself into a forlorn little ball, nose to tail. As Chanyeol watches he can see it shivering faintly, the pearlescent scales along its hide trembling. His jaw clenches. These things were bred for the heat - that much he remembers from his history lessons. Not to be left on a cold carpet in the middle of the night.

This must be what going mad feels like.

Pulling a face at the wall Chanyeol swears and reaches down, curling a hand around the dragon and lifting it up gently. Scooting back on the bed he shoves a section of the covers down and deposits his sleepy handful just below his pillow. “You’re awfully heavy for a hallucination,” he tells the dragon, tugging the covers neatly back up over it and dropping down himself so the room stops spinning.

His tiny companion peeps drowsily as it adjusts to the warmth, blinking open eyes that Chanyeol can now see are startlingly blue. When it recognizes him again, he’s not an expert on draconian features but he swears the thing brightens up, shuffling along under the sheets until it’s almost next to him. Chanyeol places a fingertip on the miniature snout, stopping it.

“You’re pushing your luck there. Stay warm and go to sleep. I’ll… figure the rest out in the morning.”

The dragon mouths contentedly at his finger and Chanyeol sighs, hooking his other arm underneath his head. He’s going to be committed. No two ways about it.

~*~

Sunlight is streaming in through the thick curtains that like an idiot, he must have forgotten to close last night. Chanyeol scrunches his face, trying to will away the pounding headache that’s taken up residence behind his eyes. Perfect. If he just never opens them again maybe last night was all just a bad, bourbon-induced dream. Chanyeol rolls over, burying his head in the pillow. What a ridiculous nightmar-

A long line of warmth follows his movement, stretching along Chanyeol’s side. A sleep-heavy limb slings across his waist and what could only be a leg tucks itself between his own. Chanyeol freezes.

There was no way on this earth he was that drunk last night.

Opening his eyes is a hell of an effort but Chanyeol pulls his head out of the pillow and cracks them. Just below his nose is a tuft of white-blonde hair. Oh. Unhelpful. Chanyeol cranes his head but the face belonging to that hair is tucked against his shoulder.

Well this could be awkward. Chanyeol hasn’t had to stumble through the morning-after from a hookup in a while but at the very least he should have a memory of what had happened the night before, surely? Or even an idea of who his partner had been. A name would have been handy. He’d certainly feel less like an if he had that.

But… hang on. He’s still dressed. Blue formal attire from the- god, that dreadful failure of an engagement meeting last night. The harpy. The argument with his father. Which led to the pinching of the alcohol. Subsequently resulting in a drunken stumble about the mansion after midnight. And an overheated egg which then produced a-

Chanyeol rolls completely over, yanking himself out of the tangle of soft, sleepy limbs and into a sitting position against the headboard. That rouses his bedmate and he’s suddenly looking into a pair of very large, very blue eyes.

Oh.

They just so happen to belong to the most stunning boy Chanyeol had ever laid eyes on, which doesn’t help matters in the slightest because he then proceeds to sit up and woah that’s a lot of bare skin.

Chanyeol grabs a handful of sheets and quickly tosses them over the other boy’s lap and legs, wracking his brain for something to say when the move earns him only a confused head tilt. Eventually he manages, “Can you… uh, do you speak?”

The beautiful head silently tilts back the other way. Chanyeol groans, running a hand over his mouth. Dragons were known to take human or elven form to communicate with the lesser races directly. Only this one… He’s new. And there’s none of his kind left alive to teach him.

Hell.

A hand reaches out and soft fingers snag Chanyeol’s own where they rest against his jaw. With a tug the boy brings Chanyeol’s hand towards himself and examines the digits slowly as if they’re something fascinating. Chanyeol finds himself momentarily looking at the other’s face while he’s distracted.

His skin is almost luminescent and it’s only when he shifts slightly that Chanyeol recognizes the same pearlescent tint that belonged to the eggshell. A quick glance at his ears confirms they’re not pointed, so definitely human was the guise of choice. It’s the feel of a warm breath on his fingertips that pulls Chanyeol back to reality.

The boy has brought Chanyeol’s fingers to his lips and the jagged memory of the tiny dragon thoughtfully gnawing on those same digits causes him to yank his hand back. Another memory cracks open and Chanyeol presses his finger lightly onto the boy’s delicate nose.

“Stop that. Fingers are not teething devices.”

Blue eyes nearly cross trying to follow his finger’s placement and Chanyeol finds that far too adorable so he immediately drops his hand. This was absurd. Completely and utterly. He needs… he needs to talk to Kai. Before anyone else finds out he has a real live dragon currently entertaining itself by… Chanyeol eases back from where there’s suddenly a head placed back on the pillow by his hip as the other boy curls back down, dozing off in a succession of slow blinks.

Chanyeol extricates himself slowly and slips out of the bed, padding over to the ensuite. He needs a bath, several Tylenol and the biggest bottle of water he can find. Like yesterday.

By the time he returns damp, in street clothes and with a towel over his head the lump on the bed is considerably smaller. Chanyeol grabs his sword and clips the scabbard belt on, trying to see through the tangle of sheets. Finally a tiny gold and white tail gives the dragon’s position away. “Come on you sleepy impossibility. Rise and shine.”

Scrubbing his hair brusquely, Chanyeol drops the towel over the back of his desk chair and fetches a duffel bag from the closet, lining it with a pillow. As an afterthought he grabs the broken egg and wraps it in a sheet, tucking it down one end of the bag. As he does the price tag sticks up and curiosity makes him turn it over.

It’s not a price tag after all. It contains a word in cursive script.

Baekhyun.

Chanyeol looks up. “Baekhyun?”

A tiny warble sounds from the lump of sheets. Okay then. Baekhyun it is.

“We’re going on a short trip.” Chanyeol walks over and wiggles a hand under the covers until he can lift the dragon up and plop it into the duffel bag, taking hold of the handles. “Please don’t set anything on fire while I’m driving.”

~*~

They make it to the University without incident and for that Chanyeol is eternally grateful. Grabbing the bag once he parks the Mercedes, he makes his way straight towards the library. Kai is nearly always tucked into a corner there between classes.

Thankfully no one gives him a second glance, although he does receive a suspicious twitch from a knot of fairies as he hauls open the door to the building, their wings momentarily changing colour as he barges past. They’re sensitive to magic so Chanyeol keeps his head down and grips the bag a little tighter. Thankfully Baekhyun doesn’t make a single sound.

He finds Kai nose-deep in a pile of textbooks. Without breaking stride Chanyeol walks past his table, hooks an arm through his and bodily drags him to the far end of the room and around a corner, dropping him into a different seat behind several shelves of dusty research tomes.

Kai tolerates this with the long-suffering air of a best friend. “I was reading that.”

Chanyeol places the open bag on the table and gestures at it. “Read this instead. Fascinating plot. Great title. Goes by Baekhyun.”

At his name the dragon’s head pops up and Kai nearly falls off the chair.

“What the fu-.”

“Pretty much my reaction too. Now do you believe me?”

Kai leans forward again, looking into the bag’s innards. “You were telling the truth.”

Chanyeol crosses his arms. “Of course I was. Just who the hell was this trader, Kai?”

“I don’t know.” His friend has the grace to look abashed. “Honestly. He only hung around for a couple of days trying to peddle his stuff. Half of it looked like he’d dug it out of a forest in the middle of Europe but it was interesting. And I thought the egg looked cool, like a replica.”

Chanyeol sighs. “Every egg in the world after the eighteen hundreds should be a replica. Or in a museum. So I can’t blame you, not really. Sorry I got angry last night.”

“No I… I totally get why now. It’s okay. I would have freaked out too.” Kai hooks a finger over the lip of the bag and Baekhyun pounces, pawing at it. “But now that it’s here-”

“He.”

“Sorry? He?” Kai slants him a look. “How do you tell that?” Chanyeol flushes and his friend sits up straighter. “What aren’t you telling me?”

He can feel his ears burning and drops his gaze. “How much do you remember from high school history?”

Kai looks thoughtful. “Dragons are highly familial until an older age, loyal to a fault, prefer warm climates, the oldest amongst them were probably wise enough to converse with what would pass for an astrophysicist in today’s terms…” He ticks off the lessons. “They fought on our side in the final lycanthrope uprising but were already dying out by the time early aviation came on the scene -I totally remember that phase where you wanted to be a dragon-rider when we were kids- and they passed out of living memory somewhere in our grandparents’ time. They had this habit of taking on a smaller guise to move amongst us when neede- holy crap he transformed on you?”

Chanyeol’s face must have given him away. “Yes. Last night.”

“And it’s definitely a he.”

The dirty scuffs on Chanyeol’s shoes are mighty interesting right now. “Yep.”

Kai’s voice sounds like he’s holding back laughter. “By that I’m guessing clothes didn’t come as part of the magic trick? They’re supposed to choose exceptionally attractive forms according to the few pictures we have you know-”

“Can we please get back on track?” He’s now seriously regretting starting this line of conversation.

A snort finally escapes Kai. “Okay, okay so aside from the hot guy in your room last night, he’s still a dragon and what are you going to do about it?”

“I… don’t know. Tell my father for a start. He has a right to know if there’s something this powerful and dangerous in his kingdom. I just…” Chanyeol trails off, watching Baekhyun still chasing the tip of Kai’s finger like a cat as it trails back and forth along the bag. “He’s the last of his kind. I don’t want him carted off to a military base to be weaponized or stuffed into some kind of laboratory to be poked and prodded for the rest of his life.”

Kai sobers. “Yeah, what goes into either of those has a habit of not coming back out.”

“Pretty much. We need to find out more before we decide. This place has to have history or zoology texts somewhere, right?”

Kai pushes off the table. “You never paid attention during classes at all, did you? I’ll go grab them.”

Chanyeol pulls out a chair of his own as Kai disappears into the shelves. Baekhyun watches the move and then plonks his head on the lip of the bag, blinking thoughtfully up at him. Without thinking Chanyeol reaches out a hand and pats him.

Tiny teeth latch gently onto his knuckle. Chanyeol sighs.

Half an hour later Kai returns with Kyungsoo in tow, both of them toting armfuls of supplies; Kai with books, Kyungsoo with three brown bags worth of McDonalds.

They settle down to work.

~*~

Afternoon slants the shadows across the table by the time Chanyeol turns the pages of the last thick tome, pressing a knuckle into one eye. “Kyungsoo, are you feeding my dragon a quarter pounder?”

Kyungsoo releases the piece of greasy meat as it’s tugged from his hand. “It’s cow,” he replies quietly. “We don’t have a herd for him to swoop in and snatch one from so this is it.”

Chanyeol… actually can’t fault that one.

Kai distractedly upends his bag with one hand for any last fries, eyes on his zoology diagram. “You need to feed him Chanyeol. And be ready once you do, he’s going to start growing.”

Chanyeol groans. “How big does his species get? Those green ridgebacks from South Africa used to only be the size of ponies.”

Kai swings the book in front of him around, pointing to the coloured diagram next to a few descriptive sketches of different hides. “No such luck. White gold were the second largest, next to the classic red.”

Chanyeol scans the page, shock and awe settling in. “They were castle-scalers.”

Kyungsoo is still feeding Baekhyun chunks of his cold beef patty. “Will he be able to fly?”

Chanyeol skims down the page. “Fifty foot wingspan at full extension. Jesus. I’d say that’s a yes.”

Kai turns serious eyes to him. “You won’t be able to keep him hidden for much longer unless he stays in human form.”

“About that,” Kyungsoo opens his hands to show Baekhyun he has no more food left. It earns him a disappointed chirp. “How does he work it? What makes him change?”

Chanyeol swallows. “Warmth, I think. Proximity maybe?”

Kai’s mouth quirks up. “To what? You?”

Chanyeol hits him with his balled-up wrapper. “I have no idea. You said they had a strong pack mentality. Maybe he needs to feel safe. I have no clue. He doesn’t talk.”

“He will.” Kyungsoo intones as Baekhyun darts out of the bag after the wrapper as it bounces past him along the table. “All the dragons of old spoke the languages native to their regions.”

Baekhyun catches the wrapper, pouncing on it. Shreds of oily paper start to fly. Chanyeol