The sound shattered the sky.
It was victory.
It was vengeance.
It was the warning of a beast that had taken back what was his—and would NEVER be denied again.
From all around, more dragons answered.
Twelve voices lifted as one, a chorus of ancient, primal fury, shaking the very heavens.
Raven felt it vibrating through her bones, her blood, her soul.
They were one in that moment. She was with the dragon and somehow, she knew the others. Knew Erik and Talon and the other guardians were here, dragons as well. The dark, cold tingle of Prince Alrik’s magic brushed over her senses, rude as an ice bath in summer. Dragon—Vector—hated that magic. Found it repulsive. Foreign.
And through their bond, Ravenunderstood.
She knew what was happening below.
She knew who fought beside them.
She knew what Alrik was.
Elf.
A being of ancient magic, calm and calculating, ruthless in the execution of his duty. He walked through the battlefield like a wraith, untouched by the destruction, black hair stark against the darkness, dark eyes burning with something cold.
With a simple gesture, the fog thickened, coiling around the remaining Guild operatives, seeping into their lungs, their skin, their very bones.
Raven didn’t know what kind of spell he was casting.
She only knew it was the last thing they would ever feel.
Elves. Dangerous.Dragon’s deep voice whispered the warning inside her mind.
Before she could be afraid, Vector launched upward, powerful wings beating against the night, sending them soaring into the air.
The world fell away beneath them.
And for the first time, Raven saw what dragons saw.
Her breath hitched as her vision changed, shifting, brightening.
The fog below wasn’t fog anymore.
Now, she saw life.
Pulsing, golden-red heat signatures flickered beneath them—men scrambling, running, some firing blindly into the thick mist, their hearts hammering in terror. She could hear every beat, every breath, every whispered prayer for mercy. She could feel the telepathic connection between the dragons, the shared agreement that there would be no quarter given. No mercy. Hell itself had come for The Guild this night, for these human men had done the unthinkable, the unforgivable…they’d stolen a dragon’s mate.
Vector snarled as he circled the battlefield, his massive wings silent death against the night sky.
Hidden by Alrik’s unnatural fog, the dragons were hunting now.
One by one, the dragons dove, massive bodies tearing through the night, ripping apart the humans who had dared threaten them. Take one of their own. Takeher.
There were no prisoners.
There was no mercy.
