Novel Full Chapter 1682 - 1682: It's Been Forever!
Archer spent hours with Gia, who told him everything she’d been thinking, but soon had to get back to work thanks to all the eggs hatching at once. The older woman moved toward him after standing up and wrapped her arms around his shoulder, pressing a kiss against his cheek with a big smile.
Her blush flared at his words, lips parting in a startled little oh before she bolted, bare feet pattering across the wooden floor. Archer’s laugh chased her out the door. Archer vanished in a swirl of violet sparks and reappeared at the mountain’s base, boots crunching on frost-rimed stone.
The Venomwing colony thrummed like a kicked hive: tunnels exhaled warm, sulfurous breath, and the air vibrated with the leathery snap of wings. Dozens of the creatures arrowed toward him, obsidian scales glinting, stingers raised; then froze mid-dive, wings flaring wide as recognition hit.
They hovered in perfect silence, a living curtain of muscle and claw, waiting for his next move. A grin spread across his face as a massive one burst from one of the cavern entrances and dove toward him. But before it could reach him, a blinding light erupted from its body, transforming the beast into a stunning white-haired woman.
She had piercing red eyes and a seductive, hourglass figure that could launch a thousand ships or topple kingdoms. ”Hello, Archer,” she said after landing in front of him. ”What brings you this far north?”
”Not allowed to come visit my Venomwing Queen?” he replied, smirking.
When Monica heard his words, her eyes glowed with amusement as she answered. ”Well, when a powerful Dragon appears on your doorstep, it scares my warriors and workers, making them flood back into the colony. Archer laughed at this and apologized. ”Sorry about that, I was just visiting the Swarm Queens to check on their colonies and other needs.”
”I know,” she revealed, smiling. ”Expanding them all? That’s gotta take a lot of power.”
”It does, to be honest,” Archer admitted. ”Even now, I’m exhausted from upgrading Gia’s colony. May I come in?”
Monica frowned and shook her head. ”Can we do it another time? I’m busy with the nurseries?”
”That’s fine,” he replied.
Archer materialized in the treehouse with a soft pop of displaced air, kicked off his boots, and sank into the worn chair. He took out a bottle of Dragon Ale, the dark liquid fizzing like liquid starlight, and took a long pull as he decided to expand Monica’s home, giving them more space to work with.
Eyes drifting shut, he reached out with his mind, threading mana through the roots beneath the earth to widen Monica’s colony, carving fresh chambers, widening tunnels, giving her swarm space to breathe. Far away, the Venomwings erupted into chaos. A ripple of psychic alarm tore through the hive as stone shifted and ceilings rose.
Dozens of the sleek, black-scaled creatures poured from the tunnel mouths, wings snapping open, crimson eyes scanning the dark for the unseen hand that had dared touch their queen’s domain. Archer chuckled as Monica’s voice echoed in his mind. ‘Thank you for helping, handsome. Sorry, I couldn’t see you; these workers are angering me with their stupidity.’
‘It’s fine, I understand being a Swarm Queen is a busy job,’ he responded, a smile appearing on his face. ‘Let me know when you’re not busy so I can come over.’
‘Will do, Archer,’ she replied, clearly happy as she sounded cheerful.
He was halfway through the second bottle, the ale’s smoky warmth pooling in his chest, when the air shimmered crimson. A red blur slammed into him, and the chair shot backward on screeching legs, nearly toppling. Sera’s arms locked around his neck, her laughter bright and wild.
”Sweetheart!” she cried, nose buried in his collar. ”It’s been forever!”
Archer chuckled at this and nodded in agreement. ”Yes, it has. Did you just come back from seeing Ravenna?”
The Dragoness beamed. ”Yes! She’s a little devil, Arch. But she’s doing good, when are you going to see her?”
”After this drink,” he answered, a lust-filled glint appeared in his violet eyes. ”I have to put that off now you’re here.”
Following that, Archer began kissing her slender neck, making the brown-skinned beauty shiver as the two began making love right there on the chair, in front of a fire that kept the Long Winter weather out. By the time the couple were finished, the sun was beginning to set as they lay in bed after teleporting mid-session.
Sera’s fingers traced lazy circles over his shirt, the heat of her palm bleeding through the fabric. ”Thank you for everything, Arch,” she murmured, voice soft against his collarbone. ”I needed this break from the expedition.”
He tilted the bottle to her lips; she took a sip, eyes fluttering at the bite of Dragon Ale. ”How’s the floating islands going?”
”We’re still pinned to the first one,” the Dragoness said, rolling her eyes. ”The storms won’t stop. Lightning chains, wind shear, the works. But there are dozens more drifting out there, whole chains of them, glowing like lanterns at night.”
She grinned, wicked and bright. ”Nefi and Brooke have turned into drill sergeants. They mean well, but gods, the lectures. And the monsters, sky-sharks, thunder wyrms, things with too many wings, keep testing the wards. We’ve repelled six raids already.”
Archer’s smile grew wide as he replied. ”Good, if you lot need any help, just send me a message or summon me through the tattoo.”
Just then, he heard Nefertiti’s voice echoing through the connection, asking Sera to return, thanks to more monsters appearing. The redhead sighed, standing up, getting dressed as she spoke. ”Why don’t you come by after seeing the others?”
”I will, but I’ll visit the children first,” he revealed.
Afterward, Sera leaned in and kissed him tenderly before departing the Domain. She rejoined the other women, leaving Archer with a lingering smile. He lingered in relaxation for a while, then teleported back to the palace on Draconia. Materializing just outside the nursery, he startled the Oathkeepers standing guard.
Archer stepped inside and paused, a soft warmth blooming in his chest. Freya sat cross-legged on the nursery rug, white hair spilling over her shoulders, stubbornly shaking her head while Edith held out a buttery biscuit and tried, for the third time, to coax her into taking a bite.
He leaned against the doorframe, content to watch the tiny standoff unfold, which amused him. The older woman knelt on the nursery rug, biscuit balanced on her palm like a fragile treaty. ”Just a taste, snowflake,” she murmured, inching it closer to the little girl’s button nose. ”For Mama?”
Freya’s white curls quivered as she shook her head with fierce determination. Her tiny mouth clamped shut; one chubby fist thumped the rug in silent refusal. A soft, indignant huff puffed through her nose, her loudest protest. Edith’s smile softened as she wiggled the biscuit, letting the warm vanilla scent drift.
His daughter’s big blue eyes tracked it, then narrowed. She pointed one sticky finger toward the window outside, then slapped both hands over her mouth again, sealing the deal before her gaze fell onto him and widened. The little girl got excited and started clapping her hands in excitement.
Archer couldn’t help but smile as he approached and crouched beside his eldest daughter, stole the biscuit, and took a slow bite. Crumbs fell when he held out the rest with a grave nod. ”Papa-tested, safe.”
Freya studied him, solemn. Then she lunged, arms flinging around his neck, and pressed a damp, open-mouthed kiss to his cheek. A happy gurgle vibrated against him, pure triumph. Edith’s laugh was barely a breath. He finished the biscuit in one bite and gathered his daughter close.
She nestled into the crook of his arm, eyelids already drooping, one fist curled against his tunic like a victory flag. Crumbs dotted them both like stardust. Edith brushed a curl from the girl’s forehead. ”Teamwork,” she whispered.
Freya’s tiny sigh fluttered against his neck, her sticky palm patting his cheek once more. The gesture drew a helpless, beaming grin across his face. He shifted the drowsy child to one arm and reached for Edith with the other, pulling her into a sudden, fierce embrace. Her smile bloomed warm and unguarded, lit from inside by the same quiet joy.
He dipped his head and pressed his lips against Edith’s, making her shivered against him, a soft sound escaping her throat. When they parted, her eyes shone, cheeks flushed, the biscuit battle already forgotten in the glow of the moment. They eased apart, breath mingling in the small space between them.
The older woman’s lashes fluttered; a shy flush climbed her throat. His hand lingered at the small of her back, thumb tracing idle circles through the fabric of her dress. Freya, dozing against his shoulder, gave a drowsy kick and smeared a final crumb across his collar. The spell cracked; Edith’s laugh spilled out, low and fond.
”Little tyrant’s claimed you for nap time,” she whispered, easing the child from his arms. Freya burrowed instantly into Edith’s neck, white curls tickling her chin.