He, Talon, and another Guardian hadslaughteredthe Guild’s forces inside that store, their blood soaking into shattered glass, pooling around shattered display cases. It had beenfast, brutal, merciless—a blur of claws and steel, of gunfire silenced by death.
Only one man had been left alive.
Long enough to talk.
Vector’s claws had been at his throat,his teeth bared, as the Guardian beside him forced the man to choke out the truth.
By the time he got his answer, the man hadoutlived his usefulness.
The Guardians had left himbleeding out on the floor.
Now, the Guild thought they were safe inside their walls.
They were wrong.
His dragon was free.
And he wanted blood.
She is MINE!
The thought wasn’t just a snarl—it waslaw, an unshakable truth carved into the marrow of his bones. His talons flexed, aching to rend flesh. His fangs burned for vengeance.
The scent of her—faint, buried beneath layers of filth, stone, and steel—scraped against his senseslike iron hooks dragging through his gut. A ghost of jasmine and something uniquely her,tainted by them. She was alive. Caged. Waiting.
And the ones who took her?
They wouldn’t be for long.
Behind him,Erik’s Guardianscarved through the sky, their wings beating like thedrums of war. They werenothis allies a few weeks ago, but battle had forged something between them—somethingunbreakable.
Now, they flew at his side.
Not for him, but for her.
At his right,Erik, King of his clan, flew ingrim silence, his silver scales reflecting the moonlight like molten steel. His dragon eyes swept the battlefield below, calculating. Unforgiving. The Guardians were his, themost elite warriors of his clan, bound by loyalty, byduty—and now, byvengeance.
Because this was not just a rescue.
It was retribution.
Below, theGuild’s strongholdloomed, a fortress ofstone and steel, thick with the stink of gunpowder, sweat, and men who thought they werehunters.
They were wrong.
This was not astronghold.
It was a graveyard.
The Guild wasn’t running. They weren’t fleeing.
They were waiting.
Let them.
Vector’s keen dragon sightpicked apartevery detail. The rooftops bristled withballistae—massive crossbows loaded withsilver-tipped harpoons, primed totear through dragon hide. Nets—woven withiron and elven magic—lay in wait, ready tobind and cripplethem.
A trap.
