“Because … how could you not know this was done to me?”
Marya stopped cleaning her son’s cuts and sat beside him.
“Devan, I am an intelligent woman. I know many things, but I don’t know everything. I am not the Goddess, nor am a Dracon. I wish I could say I was more than I am for you,” she paused as her son’s tear filled eyes focused on her, “but I’m still only your mother.”
“But you are the Dracian, Watcher of the Eggs.”
“That is my title, but it does not alter who I am or what I can or can