The field was wide and flat and smelled of cut hay and fresh-turned earth. They had crashed here...five dragons who had been a family twenty minutes ago...somewhere in rural Kentucky, miles from Mammoth Cave but still far from home.

  Darius tried to stand. His new emerald-scaled body didn’t cooperate. Legs too long, joints wrong, wings dragging like wet canvas. He collapsed again, chest heaving, smoke curling from nostrils that weren’t his anymore. The flask was gone, lost in the cave chaos, and the absence screamed louder than any roar.

  Lena curled around Zoe. Their ruby and sapphire scales caught the afternoon light, graceful even in their terror. Zoe’s wings trembled, too small for flight, too new for anything but clinging. She buried her face in her mother’s side.

  Malik stood between them and Darius. Gold scales glinted. He was already taller than Dad had been as a human, wings half-spread, claws flexing instinctively. His mind was still ringing with the cave’s overlapping screams, but one thought cut through: Protect them.

  First, Malik needed to figure out this new body. He experimented with walking, then running, even skipping...before spreading his wings and practicing hovering in the stiff breeze. Flight was tricky.

  Darius tried again. He rose unsteadily on four legs. His wings unfurled halfway, massive, leathery, emerald veins pulsed faintly. He flapped once...hard.

  The gust he produced knocked him sideways. He stumbled, tail lashing, uprooting a fence post like it was a toothpick. He caught himself on all fours, chest heaving.

  Lena laughed, rising to her own feet. Soft. Relieved. “You’re supposed to lift off, love. Not plow the field.”

  Darius growled. “Easy for you to say. You look like you were born with those wings.”

  She spread hers experimentally. Graceful. Fluid. The wind lifted her a few feet off the ground, she hovered, then settled back down. “Instinct, maybe. Or just lighter bones.”

  Zoe peeked out. “Can I try?”

  Lena’s eyes softened. “Small flaps first, baby. No big jumps.”

  Zoe spread her wings. Tiny. Sapphire. She flapped once. Twice. A little gust lifted her a foot off the ground. She squealed, flapped harder, and shot upward like a cork from a bottle. Wings beat frantically. She wobbled, banked, nearly crashed into a tree, then managed a shaky circle before dropping back down in a heap of scales and giggles.

  Malik laughed. The first real laugh since the cave. “Somehow I am not surprised that Zoe loves being a dragon.”

  Darius watched. The sight of Zoe laughing, wings still trembling, loosened something in his chest. For a moment the rage was quiet. He tried again. Crouched lower. Flapped slower. Lifted an inch. Two. Then dropped.

  He snarled. “This is ridiculous.”

  Lena stepped closer. “You’re learning. We all are.”

  Darius looked at her. Really looked. Ruby scales. Warm eyes. The same Lena who’d laughed at his bad jokes for twenty years. He reached out with one claw...careful, slow...and brushed her cheek.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “For…whatever comes next.”

  She pressed her forehead to his. “We’ll face it together.”

  The wind shifted. A new scent washed over them.

  The hunger hit then. Sudden. Deep. Like a hole opening in the gut.

  Darius’s head snapped toward the pasture beyond the fence. Cattle. Black Angus. Fat and slow. The scent rolled over him like a wave: warm blood, grass, life.

  His stomach growled. Loud. Animal.

  Lena’s eyes widened. “Darius…”

  “I’m starving,” he said. Voice rough. “We all are.”

  Zoe looked up. “I’m hungry too.”

  Malik stepped forward. “We can’t just…eat the cows.”

  Darius turned on him. “They’re not ours. But they’re here. Laws of man don’t mean shit when you’re a dragon.”

  Malik’s wings twitched. “There’s a difference between surviving and…”

  Darius didn’t let him finish. He attempted to launch himself over the fence. The great emerald wings beat once, twice, and lifted him, wobbling, into the air. He crashed into the pasture fence with a pathetic yelp. The emerald dragon rolled to his feet, shook himself off, and charged the nearest cow.

  The animals bolted. Darius pursued in a torrent of rent earth. The breath-weapon instinct rose and emerald fire flickered at the back of his throat. He opened his jaws. Fire lanced out in a short burst, singeing grass and cow alike. The animal screamed and stumbled. It was enough. Darius pounced. His jaws closed under the throat and blood ran hot in his mouth. The hunger quieted a fraction, but instinct took over again, and his emerald fire scorched the dead cow til the smell of barbecued beef filled the air.

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  He tore into the carcass. Ravenous. No thought. Just need.

  Lena landed beside him. Ruby wings folded. She looked at the kill. At Darius. At the blood on his muzzle.

  She didn’t speak. She simply lowered her head and ate. Quiet. Methodical. Protective.

  Zoe landed next. Tiny wings trembling. She looked at the cow. At her parents. At the blood.

  Then she ate in small bites with tears on her sapphire scales.

  Malik landed last. He held his golden wings tight against his body as he stared at the scene.

  ---

  I watched Mom and Zoe eat. Quiet. Like they were ashamed of needing to. Dad tore into the cow like it owed him something. Like the hunger was personal.

  Mom noticed first. Then Zoe backed away, eyes wide with fear as the two dragons stared at Dad in his frenzy of gluttony.

  I felt it too. The hole in my stomach. The pull toward meat and heat. But I also felt something else. Something colder.

  Dad's emerald scales were streaked with blood. His eyes were wild. The human was gone. The bourbon was gone. The man who used to read comics to Zoe on the couch was gone.

  And the thing that replaced him was hungry.

  I stepped forward. “Dad. Enough.”

  He looked up. Blood on his muzzle. Eyes narrowing. “What?”

  “You’re scaring them.”

  Darius snarled. “They’re hungry too. We’re all hungry.”

  “Not like that.” I kept my voice steady. “Not like you’re punishing the cow for existing.”

  Darius rose. Wings flared. “You think you know better, boy?”

  “I know you’re not yourself.”

  Darius laughed. Rough. Broken. “None of us are ourselves, Malik. Look around. We’re dragons. We’re...monsters.”

  I stepped closer. Gold wings half-spread. “Then be a better monster.”

  Dad lunged. Not to hurt. But to dominate. His wings beat once and the wind knocked me back. I caught myself. My claws dug into earth. I found myself enjoying the sensation despite the stress. My golden muzzle wrinkled into a snarl.

  Mom moved between us. Ruby scales flashing. “Enough!”

  Darius stopped. Breathing hard. Eyes wild.

  Then he looked at Zoe. At Lena. At me.

  The rage guttered out. He sagged. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

  Lena pressed her forehead to his. “We know.”

  Zoe peeked out from behind a wing. “Dad?”

  Darius looked at her. “Yeah, baby?”

  “I’m still hungry.”

  He laughed. Soft. Broken. “Me too.”

  This time my own hunger spurred the instinct of fire in the back of my throat, and I roasted the carcass this time.

  We ate together. Quiet. Methodical. Family again. Scarred. But together.

  Darius paused mid-bite. He sniffed the meat, then looked around the pasture fence line and sniffed the air again. A short distance away a salt lick was tied to a fence post, left by the rancher. He stood and trotted to fence post, reached out with one front paw with claws surprisingly dexterous despite their size. He hooked the wire holding the salt block with a claw tip and returned to the cookout. He used a claw and gouged a generous dusting of coarse salt over his portion.

  “Needs salt,” he muttered, almost to himself. The human habit hadn’t fully died yet. The meat sizzled faintly where the salt hit hot flesh. He took another bite. Chewed slower this time. “Better.”

  Lena watched him for a moment, then did the same with her own portion. Zoe copied, tiny claws scratching deep into the tough salt. Even in dragon form, some things stayed human, and seasoning never goes out of style.

  ---

  The sun sank lower. The field turned gold and shadow.

  Darius looked at the sky. Wide. Blue. Merciless.

  “We need to get home,” he said.

  Lena nodded. “We will.”

  Malik looked at them. At the blood on his claws. At the sky.

  He swallowed. “I’ll fly point.”

  Darius met his eyes. Pride. Grief. Love.

  “Lead on, son.”

  Malik spread his wings. Gold against blue. A promise in flight.

  The family lifted off. Clumsy. Beautiful. Together.

  And somewhere ahead, the farm waited.

  Scarred.

  But home.