Then Titus grinned and laughed, “But yet,… she’ll still choose me… over you.”
Aurelius growled, “RRRR…you insufferable… arrogant…” (Smack)
Gold flashed as the cuff from my arm struck Aurelius in the head. Hard. A thin bead of blood dripped from the side of his forehead as he realized I was the one who threw it.
“That’s my mate!” I shouted.
It stole a heartbeat of his focus, briefly pausing his white light— and it was the only heartbeat Titus needed.
The High Lord sent out one final shock-wave, and I knew it was probably the last bit of energy he had.
A seismic pulse of energy and fire tore through the chamber and engulfed the Master of Dragons whole.
Aurelius screamed.
A raw, tearing sound that fractured the air and scraped against stone and bone alike. The flames wrapped around him, climbed him, consumed him inch by inch. His skin blackened, split, and curled as the blaze devoured everything it touched.
The fire didn’t even spare his white hair—once a mark of ancient blood and superiority. It caught in a flash, singed away in seconds, the bright silver turning to smoke and ash. In moments, it stripped him of every visible sign of lineage, legacy, and pride.
For a fraction of a second, our eyes met.
There was fury there. Disbelief. And something almost childlike in his shock. As if he could not comprehend that this was how it ended.
His lips burned away mid-cry.
His hands clawed at nothing. At air. At fate. Titus’s flames did not relent.
His limbs locked rigid as the heat hollowed him from the inside out, his once-powerful frame reduced to a silhouette of flame. The ancient blood he had boasted of—the power he had claimed made him destined for the throne—meant nothing here. It offered no protection. There would be no mercy from Titus protecting his mate.
His white-light magic flickered weakly around him once more, sputtering against Titus’s inferno, then fractured and shattered like brittle glass.
He tried to summon it again. He failed.
The screaming stopped.
The flames continued for several seconds longer, relentless, and merciless, until even the outline of him collapsed inward.
I had to look away; it was too gruesome to witness further.
Everything that had made him Aurelius—his beauty, his power, his ancient blood—was wiped from existence in a storm of fire and smoke.
And then— Silence.
Where the Master of Dragons had been, there was only blackened ruin and drifting cinders.
The flames subsided slowly, as if reluctant to release their prey. And when no threat remained, my shield vanished.
Titus collapsed to the floor with a thud.
I rushed to my mate who clung to life. I wanted to touch him, hold him, but I didn’t know where I could without hurting him.
He lay on his back, and the extent of the damage was visible. He was so badly burned. Over half of his body was scorched with black, charred skin. He was missing flesh on his ears, nose, lips, and one eyelid. It was horrifying, and I burst into tears.
“Titus.. ” I whimpered. He was still so beautiful.
He looked up at me and breathed out. “I’m …so…sorry.” “Shhhh it’s ok, its ok, we survived, we are going to be ok,” I whispered while my tears flooded my cheeks. His breathing labored with a rattle.
“No, my Pickles,yousurvived…I’m afraid…I’m going to have to…leave you one more time…promise you’ll find me again... in the next life..” he murmured slowly as his soul faded.
