We have enemies to destroy.
And if they dare harm what our mate loves, they will learn what it means to be hunted by dragons.
23
RONYN
As we circle the territory Hunter indicated, a strong stench hits me. The air carries the smell of wet fur, rot, old blood, and wolf stink, mixed with neglect, disease, and the careless waste of those who don’t value what they possess.
The territory below is a mass of tangled underbrush. Animal carcasses lie bloated and half-consumed, rusted-out cars form crude borders, their frames stripped bare and half-swallowed by moss. A mound of bones sits at the center of a clearing, like a crude totem. No one tends to this place, or rules it with strength or care, andthattells me everything I need to know about the shifters we’re about to face.
Kelan dips low, signaling the descent. Darial follows. I bank sharply, letting the wind catch my wings before folding them in and diving hard.
We land in a wide clearing surrounded by dying pines and broken fencing. The ground is patchy, churned by countless paws and stained with waste. The odor intensifies here. The wolves show no regard for order, marking theirown borders and leaving refuse near their den.
Typical of the kind of male who thinks strength and destruction go hand in hand.
I shift with a crack of bones and burst of heat, landing on my feet with a startled Robert, beside Kelan who pulls the cloth back around his waist. Darial touches down lightly a breath later, careful of Aura as he releases her, and an equally startled Evan. Hunter staggers, palms braced on his knees as he exhales hard. Evan looks like he might vomit. Robert sinks into a crouch, rubbing the back of his neck like the flight scrambled his senses.
It seems bear shifters need time to adjust to flying.
I smirk. “Dragons not what you expected?” I roll my shoulders to loosen the tension. “Or is your stomach that delicate?”
Hunter grunts. “You movefast.”
Darial steps forward, more diplomatic than I have the patience for. “Better than slow, considering what’s at stake.”
I glance at Aura. She stands among us, wrapped in furs yet visibly cold. Her lips are blue, her hair whipped by the wind, contrasting with the faintly glowing runes on her skin. She is silent now, which is more troubling than tears.
It is the silence of someone preparing for the worst, of a mother facing her greatest fear.
I dislike the fear etched on her face and the tension in her posture. I want her to laugh again, and return to the woman she was, vibrant and full of life. The silent, motionless figure before me isn't the Aura I have come to know.
Someone will be held accountable for causing her pain.
Kelan steps beside her and lifts his chin. “Where?” he asks the bears.
Hunter gestures north. “They’ve built some kind of compound. Walls from stripped trees. Pitched tents inside. We’ve seen patrols running the perimeter.”
“Any communication from the wolves who were guarding the child?” I ask.
Robert shakes his head. “There’s been no word since Nixon’s call.”
Darial’s jaw clenches. “Then we go in.”
If we are careless, we risk alerting them. Nothing prevents them from harming Nixon’s pack. They aren't strategic; they are vengeful, controlling, and desperate for power.
Robert and Evan agree with their alpha, nodding solemnly.
I move toward the tree line. “Our focus is retrieval and justice.”
Darial catches my arm. “Ronyn.”
“What?” I growl.
His voice is low. “We have to be smart.”
I glance back at Aura. She hasn’t moved.
