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The plan became that the Mythguard would approach the mine first, armed with tranquilizer guns, and would lure the front line out into the open or push into the mine if necessary. As the Lycan ritual required exposure to moonlight, we had to strike before nightfall as we suspected my father would be hiding deep within the mine until then. We would knock most of the defending line unconscious and then enter the mine, using lethal force if necessary, until we encountered David and Lothair. They would be exterminated, and Kiara would be rescued. The plan was simple in theory, but in execution, none of us knew how it would turn out, and we were prepared for more death. It was a risk we had to take to ensure the safety of our home. I was ready to sacrifice myself if it meant keeping everyone else safe.

At 6 AM, the recon team arrived at Everett’s house. “We counted three wolves and four dragons patrolling the outskirts of the mine. Brad and Carla have also confirmed David’s truck carrying the scent of Kiara is parked at the mine, which leads us to believe both David and Kiara are inside,” one of the Mythguard reported.

An hour later, we loaded up into a couple of Mythguard vans and made our way to the mine.

Everyone was silent. I anticipated that this would be the last day I saw my father alive, and I was prepared to do what needed to be done. If it meant watching him die, so be it. My nerves were electric, my ears ringing with anticipation. A chill took over my body, but I didn’t suspect it was from anything other than my nervousness, even if it was intense enough to make me shiver. I balled my fists tight on my lap, the three balsam resin darts in my pocket destined for Lothair.

We drove as close to the mine as possible without being detected, but even once we parked the caravan and all of us filed out, slipping through the trees and up the mountainside to the edge of the pit, our presence was already known. The seven shifters were waiting for us, some hiding behind boulders, others lurking in the darkness at the mouth of the mine. When one of them made the mistake of exposing a little too much of their arm, one of the Mythguard snipers fired, hitting their mark. The stricken shifter shouted and stumbled into the open, firing a handgun in our direction. They missed, then dropped to the ground, already made dizzy by the tranquilizer.

In the blink of an eye, our Mythguard operatives flooded out from hiding, and the shifters advanced, bringing the fight to a swift conclusion. One Mythguard human lay dead on the dusty ground, and all of the wolves were unconscious—my packmates—as well as all except one of the dragons. That one dragon was sprawled at the bottom of the pit with a broken spine, having tumbled over a rocky ledge.

I was already sweating, and I hadn’t even engaged in any combat. A few operatives slipped into the mine while the rest of us waited for signs of further engagement, but only silence followed. A few seconds later, the operatives appeared outside. “There’s nobody inside,” they said. “It’s empty.”

“What?” growled Everett.

“They have to be in there,” said Gavin, pushing forward.

“The first few rooms are all clear,” confirmed an operative.

Gavin stepped into the darkness. Not even the lanterns were lit inside. I followed him while Everett stormed after us. “We should allow the operatives to sweep the entire mine before we go in,” he said.

“If there’s not an entire clan of dragons here to protect David, I doubt he’s hiding in the back,” said Gavin.

“Gavin’s right. They must have only left a few shifters behind to give off the illusion that they were still here,” I said. “But I can still smell someone. There’s a fresh scent inside.”

The three of us followed the tunnels deeper into the mine. Billie and Aislin hung back under the protection of the Mythguard, but all three of us were determined to be at the forefront to protect our packs and our mates should we come face-to-face with our opponents. I felt a strange solidarity with Gavin and Everett here. We all had the same goal, the same hatred for the ones who had thrust our home into chaos.

But as prepared as we were for the final showdown, the mine was empty of life. My little nook in the cavern was untouched. The room where my father stayed, with his table and his sleeping bag, and his empty crates, had grown cold without his presence. As we approached the tunnel where Muriel and the girls were kept prisoner, the scent became stronger. Light from the only lit lantern in the tunnel flickered against the walls. We turned the corner and simultaneously tensed at the sight of someone in human form waiting for us.

He raised his head, blond hair falling in front of his sad, sunken eyes while he cradled the infant in his arms. A chain around his ankle kept him anchored to the floor. “You’ve come to kill me,” drawled Lothair, voice cracking with defeat. “Make it quick, then.”

Terrible sadness shrouded the dragon Alpha, but it didn’t show on his face, only in his posture in the heavy atmosphere surrounding him. I didn’t know what I felt for Lothair at that moment.

Gavin lunged forward, all too ready to do as he was told, only to stop suddenly when his eyes fell upon the child. Everett and I quickly joined Gavin’s side, and there we saw the baby girl in Lothair’s arms with her eyes closed, breathing gently in her blanket, lulled into the comfort of restful sleep. “She’s still alive,” I said, unable to keep relief from my voice.

“Yes. Muriel used the last of her magic to heal my daughter,” Lothair replied without emotion. He peered down at the infant, seemingly disconnected from her, looking at her like she was just an object and not his own beloved child. “She is perfectly healthy.” Then he looked back up at us again. “But I suspect that won’t be for long in your custody.”

Anger prevented Gavin from saying anything.

Everett turned his attention to the chain around Lothair’s ankle. “They left you behind. Why?”

This time, Lothair hesitated to speak. His stare ventured past us.

But I knew the answer. “They overthrew you.”

Lothair frowned. “Yes. My Inkscales decided that I was too weak to continue leading them.”

“Are you serious?” sneered Gavin.

“He disappeared after Sibyelle’s death,” I explained. “Evidently, the Inkscales didn’t take kindly to Lothair’s grieving process.”

“Any of you would have done the same had your fated mate died before your very eyes,” Lothair said bitterly.

He was probably right, of Gavin at least. I didn’t know if Everett would have isolated himself. But that didn’t matter—what mattered was that Grandbay and Eastpeak wouldn’t have just ousted their Alphas for mourning the deaths of their mates. That was where wolves differed from dragons.

“Is Kipling the Alpha now?” I asked.