While a future queen lay on cold stone wondering how her life had become a dumpster fire with a crown on it, an Alpha listening to breeding hymns eight hundred miles away was wondering the same thing.
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DOMINO 59: THE GREAT BALL-WING INCIDENT
GREYHALL CROSSING - 5:20 AM
When the chute ejected them, they came out like they had been stuffed into a suitcase by a sadist.
The tiny one came out first, face-planting in towels. The big one was second, wing caught like a cheap curtain. Tharos Stonehowl was last, cocooned in someone's dirty bedsheets like a failed toga and wondering what the fuck he did to deserve this.
"Something in my pelvis is sideways," the smaller one complained.
"Your pelvis was sideways before the chute," the larger one said. "It's a birth defect. Our mother drank during the egg."
Tharos stopped walking. "You two are actual brothers?"
"We are clutch-mates. Obviously."
