Chapter 173: Dragons in the Lycan Skies

When the three dragon silhouettes crossed the border into the Lycan kingdom, reactions were slow to come, paralyzed by an almost tangible disbelief.

At first, the Lycans thought it was an optical illusion. Their gazes lifted, filled with awe and shock, toward the three majestic forms soaring effortlessly through the sky.

Dragons? Impossible.

These creatures had been gone for so long that they were more myth than reality.

And yet, there they were, flying above them, undeniably real, undeniably breathtaking.

Quickly, hushed murmurs turned into panicked exchanges in the Lycans' mental link. The information spread like wildfire, and by the time it reached the royal palace, it was carried by a frantic advisor who burst into Soren’s office without even knocking.

"Your Majesty! Your Majesty, it’s… I don’t even know how to—"

Soren, startled, lifted his gaze from his documents, irritation and confusion evident on his face.

"Calm yourself. Immediately," he ordered, his voice sharp, commanding. "Breathe, and tell me what’s going on—clearly."

The advisor sucked in a deep breath before speaking again, his voice steadier but still trembling.

"Dragons, Your Majesty… Three dragons have been spotted in the kingdom’s sky, heading straight for Zéberta!"

"Dragons?" Soren repeated, his frown deepening.

A sharp pang of unease coiled in his chest.

Yes, he had anticipated Lya’s arrival.

But she had never mentioned bringing company. And certainly not two other dragons.

He had expected one, at most. Not an entire aerial parade.

A long, exasperated sigh escaped him as he rubbed his temples.

"Caleb, Lya… I knew you wouldn’t do anything the conventional way," he muttered, shaking his head. "But three dragons? You’re really pushing it."

Despite himself, a smirk tugged at his lips.

Now, he had to deal with the aftermath of an entrance the entire kingdom would remember for years to come.

Above, the small group flew in seamless formation, soaring toward the heart of the Lycan kingdom.

The sun gleamed off their scales, creating a dazzling display of shifting colors and reflections as they weaved through the clouds.

Caleb, securely seated on Lya’s back with Loric nestled in front of him, was thoroughly enjoying the exhilarating sensation of flight.

A quiet smile played on his lips.

But despite the beauty of the moment, Lya couldn’t shake her unease. She knew their unexpected arrival was bound to cause chaos.

She reached out mentally to her companions.

"We really should have warned Soren properly. Three dragons, Caleb… he’s not going to take this lightly."

"Oh, come on, Luna!" Drake’s voice rang through their link, full of unbothered amusement. "Don’t be a spoilsport! Our arrival is about to go down in history!"

Lya let out a deep, guttural growl, her throat vibrating with exasperation.

"Yes," she bit back, unimpressed. "As the day peace between Lycans and Werewolves officially crumbled. Wonderful legacy, Drake. Truly."

Caleb chuckled through their bond, brushing a reassuring hand over Lya’s scales.

"Relax, babe. Soren’s smart enough to realize this isn’t an attack."

Lya huffed, releasing a small wisp of blue smoke from her nostrils—a clear sign of her lingering frustration.

"You’re way too optimistic, my wolf."

"It’s part of my charm, babe," Caleb replied smoothly, his grip tightening slightly around Loric, who was still laughing in pure, unfiltered delight.

And that’s when Lina’s voice cut into their link, laced with unfiltered rage.

"You’re all being way too lenient, Princess!" she snapped, barely containing her fury. "That Soren doesn’t deserve your kindness! He rejected you—abandoned you! We should burn his palace to the ground and leave an unforgettable mark on his kingdom!"

Lina’s wings flared, barely missing Soraya as she seethed, clearly ready to stir trouble.

Soraya rolled her eyes. She was used to her daughter's hotheadedness.

"Lina!" Lya’s voice cracked like a whip, firm, authoritative, leaving no room for argument.

Lina stiffened, hesitating for just a second before turning away with a frustrated snarl.

"We are not here to start a war," Lya continued, softer but unwavering. "We are here to pay respects to the ones who were my family. That is all."

Soraya, flying steadily beside them, chimed in calmly.

"Listen to the princess, Lina. We’re here for her. Not to settle old grudges."

Lina finally exhaled sharply, reluctantly backing down. Even so, her frustration still radiated through the link.

Caleb gently ran a hand along Lya’s neck, grounding her.

He could feel the tension in her muscles. They were making a statement—that much was undeniable.

And there was no turning back now.

Might as well make it memorable.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting the Lycan kingdom in a golden glow, Zéberta came into view. Familiar, yet somehow different. Marked by time. Marked by memories.

Lya’s gaze settled on a specific landmark—a lone mausoleum, standing quietly amidst towering ancient trees.

The one she had built for Jack and Emma.

A sanctuary. A silent promise that their memory would never fade.

"We’re here," Lya murmured through their bond, slowing her pace.

The three dragonesses gradually descended, circling the city in elegant, measured spirals.

They knew they couldn’t land directly within the streets. Their dragon forms were simply too massive.

"Let’s take it slow," Lya instructed.

Soraya and Lina wordlessly agreed.

With practiced grace, they eased their descent to a controlled altitude, allowing the Lycans below to clearly see them—

to understand them.

A ripple of astonished whispers and gasps surged through the city as the dragons hovered above the streets, their forms radiant against the darkening sky.

And then—

With one final, synchronized movement, their bodies were enveloped in a glowing halo of magic—

a luminous dance of blues and greens.

Slowly, their majestic forms shifted, shrank, melted away into their human appearances.

Lya, Soraya, and Lina landed gracefully, effortlessly.

Caleb, Loric, and Drake touched the ground soon after, their descent smooth, guided by the lingering remnants of the dragonesses’ magic.

Their feet settled just in front of the mausoleum.

The structure, carved from pristine white stone, seemed to catch the last remnants of sunlight, giving it an almost ethereal glow.

Delicate engravings adorned its surface—subtle but clear symbols of both her Lycan and Draconic heritage.

A tribute to the two people who had once given her a home.

A deep silence settled over the group.

Loric, suddenly feeling the weight of the moment, instinctively pressed himself against Lya, slipping his tiny hand into hers.

"It’s beautiful," he whispered.

Lya’s fingers curled around his, gently, protectively.

"Yes, it is," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "For two people who deserved to never be forgotten."

Caleb placed a reassuring hand on his mate’s shoulder, while Drake, Soraya, and Lina stood silently, aware of the emotional depth of the moment. Lina, who had been tense until now, seemed to relax as she took in the delicate beauty of the mausoleum. Soraya, meanwhile, gave Lya a warm look, filled with silent affection.

Then, after taking a deep breath, Lya gently led the group toward the mausoleum’s entrance, ready to finally pay tribute to the parents who had given her a home.

"Caleb! Lya!"

Soren’s voice rang through the air, stopping the group dead in their tracks.

They turned to face the Lycan King, his imposing presence emphasized by the royal guards flanking him. But what immediately caught their attention was the group of advisors standing just behind him—some looking wary, others outright displeased.

Soren advanced at a steady pace, his sharp gaze locked onto Lya. There was no hostility in his eyes.

Annoyance? Yes. Frustration? Probably. But he wasn’t here for a fight.

"Soren." Lya greeted him with a neutral nod, her posture relaxed, but her gaze unwavering.

Behind her, Lina stiffened, crossing her arms as she tried to rein in the anger bubbling inside her. She had never liked authority—especially when it interrupted what she considered an important moment.

Soraya, always pragmatic, subtly placed a hand on Lina’s forearm—a silent warning to keep her temper in check.

Caleb, on the other hand, smirked. The classic ‘I-don’t-care-about-your-irritation-but-go-on-this-is-entertaining’ smirk.

And, of course, Drake shared in his amusement, standing casually at his side, arms crossed over his chest.

Soren exhaled sharply before speaking.

"I received your message, Lya," he said, raising an eyebrow. "But I must have missed the part where you mentioned you wouldn’t be coming alone."

His gaze flicked to Lina and Soraya. There was no direct accusation, but it was clear he wasn’t thrilled about being caught off guard.

"Circumstances changed," Lya responded simply, her tone calm and unreadable.

That was when one of Soren’s advisors—a tall, sharp-eyed man—stepped forward, clearly irritated.

"And we’re just supposed to accept that without an explanation?"

His voice was clipped, his irritation barely concealed.

"Undeclared allies waltzing around our territory? Really? What a blatant show of disrespect."

Lina’s head snapped up instantly, fury flashing in her eyes.

"Disrespect?" she repeated, her body tensing. "If we wanted to hide our presence, trust me—you wouldn’t have even noticed us."

The advisor glared at her. "Charming. An insolent one, too."

Loric, who had been watching in quiet curiosity, felt the air shift. Something about the atmosphere became heavy, sharp, charged. Without thinking, he clutched at Lya’s side, seeking comfort.

She felt it immediately. And that’s when her expression changed.

Her blue gaze turned to ice. She tilted her head ever so slightly, her piercing eyes locking onto the advisor’s with the kind of calm that wasn’t calm at all.

"Let me be very clear."

Her voice was soft, controlled. But beneath that softness lay razor-sharp authority.

"No one here questions my loyalty to Caleb and the royal pack. No one threatens my family—whether by blood or by heart."

The advisor held her gaze for a tense second. But he was no match. His eyes flicked away, jaw clenching, the faintest tic betraying his unease.

Soren watched the exchange in silence, taking in the dynamics at play. Then, slowly, he sighed.

"That’s enough."

His tone was calm but left no room for argument.

"Lya has never given us a reason to doubt her, and I doubt she’s about to start now."

He cast a sharp glance at his advisor, who took a measured step back, wisely choosing not to push further.

Then, Soren turned back to Lya.

"We have a lot to discuss."

Lya gave a small nod—outwardly composed, but still very much on guard.

"Yes. We have things to settle."

But she had no intention of letting this slide so easily.

What none of them knew yet…

Was that danger lurked closer than they thought.

A remnant of the past.

One they believed they had long left behind.