The cave was warm with the crackle of a small fire, but the true heat came from them her children.

Drogon hissed softly, his scales glimmering red gold in the light, while Rhaegal and Viserion curled close against her, tiny hearts beating like drums. Their breaths puffed smoke, and Dany felt the warmth of life where once there had been only ashes.

She ran her fingers over Drogon’s head, marveling at how delicate he still was and how fierce he would become.