Page 85 of Bad Blood Alpha

Weapons fire crackled overhead, as the Enforcers mowed down the first wave of hellhounds. Flynn heard the thump and whistle of a grenade launcher, and the ground exploded right in front of Ragnor, sending him and his reptile steed flying through the air. There was a whoop of triumph, and Flynn saw Rafe Connors’ mate, sweet, soft-spoken Terin, raise her fist in triumph before reloading the launcher.

The shifters surged past him and Kira, and Flynn saw more friends. Noah and Mina Reilly. Tristan, white wolf, friend and brother. Ravens, and another grizzly.

They roared down the hill past him, and met the hellhounds with a clash of weapons and teeth and claws.

Kira stared in awe. “Holy fuck.”

The hellhounds fought, but they were outnumbered and outgunned. It looked like it was all going to be over in a few minutes, until Flynn saw a flash of black lightning, and heard Ragnor’s voice boom out in the ancient language of the draken.

From over the castle, three shapes rose into the sky, fiery red with wings.

Dragons. He had fucking dragons after all.

Fire dragons could burn this whole army to ash. “They’re going to get slaughtered,” Flynn whispered.

Kira wheeled around, looking back at the ridge. “Or not.”

Over the ridge rose a cobalt-blue dragon, shining in the dawn light. Her great wings flapped, sending debris-filled wind down the slope, her flight path taking her on an intercept course with the red dragons.

Ashley.

She hurtled toward the red dragons, trumpeting a battle cry. Two of them headed toward her, but the third swooped down on the battle, drawing in its breath to breathe fire.

Flynn shouted, but in the clash of battle, no one could hear him. Then, out of nowhere, a great black shape dropped out of the sky, straight at the red dragon.

It was Emon.

He hit the red dragon before it could spout fire, tangling its wings, slashing with his claws. The red dragon roared with pain and rage, barely managing to disengage before they hit the ground.

It beat its wings hard, swooping so close overhead Flynn could smell the sulfur stink of its scales. It breathed fire at Emon, who dodged out of the way before dropping on it again.

He was still muzzled with silver, still unable to breathe fire of his own. But he fought valiantly, even as the other dragon’s fire enveloped him.

“He can’t stand against that,” Kira said. “And Ashley can’t fight two of them.”

Flynn could see her battling, aided by Rachelle Colton in her ki-rin form—black winged horse with a serpent’s head. Israel Jonas, flashing blue magic from the Dragonstone embedded in his palm, was trying to make his way to Ragnor.

And it still might not be enough. “I have to help them,” Kira said frantically. He could see blue light crackling around her now, her magic straining to get loose. Mayah moaned at their feet.

One of the dragons fighting Ashley broke off, circling upward. The ki-rin followed, but she couldn’t catch up. Flynn knew it was going to dive down, bringing flaming death with it.

Kira felt the power surging through her. She could see it in her mind’s eye, the trail of ash and destruction the red dragon would bring. Flynn’s friends, and hers. His family. The people who’d put their lives on the line for her.

Wiped out.

No more. The Al-Maddeiri couldn’t let armies die for them any more.

“Flynn!” she cried. “The dragon! I have to stop it! Give me the power!”

He stared at her. “I don’t know how!”

But she did. Ragnor had told her the way.

Blood and magic.

She drew her knife and slashed it across the palm of the hand that wore the bracelet. The power was pushing at her now, demanding to be free.

Flynn grabbed the knife from her and sliced his own palm. Then he clasped her hand, palm to palm, blood to blood.