Page 95 of Scaled Daddy's Secret Heir
I know the way it curves in the air, heavy and hard and flat like something meant to drop troops instead of tourists.
I’ve heard it in nightmares.
And now I’m hearing it here.
On Glimner.
I move through the house quickly, checking the perimeter alarms. Our system is cobbled together—part salvaged tech, part things Clancy and I rigged with netting, proximity nodules, even a few motion-triggered light traps that trigger defensive sound loops. I upgrade them in silence.
The kitchen window gives me a wide view of the lagoon. I see Clancy jumping from stone to stone, yelping as a spray of water soaks his pant leg.
He’s laughing.
He has no idea.
I press my palm flat to the countertop to stop my fingers from trembling.
My breath rattles in my chest, sudden and sharp, like a sob that changed its mind halfway out.
No one has come to the door. No uniformed agent has asked to scan my ID. But that’s not how it would start—not with me. They wouldn’t ask.
They’ddescend.
And they’d take.
I grab the emergency pack from the cabinet under the floor panel. I haven’t touched it in over a year. There’s dust in the corners. Some of the nutrient packs have expired. I change them out, fingers moving fast, mouth tight.
Next is the route.
I’d mapped three out when we first got here.
One overland—through the trader’s pass, into the canyon craters on the north side. Long. Dangerous. But hard to follow.
One water—straight into the reef maze. Risky in storms, but invisible to thermal unless you’re directly above.
The third? I only made that one for Clancy.
He doesn’t know it yet.
I haven’t had the guts to teach it to him.
But maybe I should’ve.
My feet carry me to his room. I haven’t been in here since I tidied yesterday. It’s chaos—books, tool bits, a strange sticky patch on the windowsill. But it’shischaos.
I kneel by his bed and pull the false panel in the wall. Behind it is a glide sled, size-modified, made for a kid his age. I repurposed it from an old amusement park rescue model. It’s basic—no weapons, no trackers—but it’ll move fast, and it’s got shielding.
Just in case.
My hands hover over it.
I don’t want to think about needing it.
But I’m not stupid.
They’re here forsomething.
I don’t know what.
