Chapter 42 The Flight
King Korr POV
The sky was iron and flame.
Every wingbeat cracked thunder.
We soared through the volcanic storms above Pyraen Hold, our scales gleaming like molten armor. Rivers of lightning carved paths between clouds as if the heavens were smithing their own weapons. I felt every tremor, every heartbeat of the Forgefires far below, echoing in the hollow of my chest where Vaelrith slept and seethed.
"She burns," my dragon murmured, his voice like fire crawling over stone. "The phoenix breathes again. And you fly toward her, pretending it’s duty."
“It is duty,” I said aloud, my roar swallowed by the wind. “The bond must be understood.”
"The bond is desire," Vaelrith hissed. "Do not dress it in honor."
The twins flew tight to my flanks, streaks of red and bronze tearing the clouds apart. Gryn, ever the reckless one, twisted into a spiral and bellowed with glee. “The wind’s right, my king! We could break the Wildlands border before moonrise!”
“Then break it,” I commanded. “No rest until we cross the ridge.”
The storm thickened. Rain lashed against our wings, sizzling into steam when it touched our heat. The scent of pine and mountain snow began to creep into the air, the scent of wolf lands, and with it came something else.
Blood. Old and powerful.
Vaelrith’s growl rippled through my bones. "He’s here."
I felt it too. The sky itself bent around a presence that was not ours. The clouds dimmed, the shadows folding inward. Through the haze of lightning, a shape emerged, black as void, wings vast as a cathedral, slicing the wind with predatory grace.
Nox. The Vampire King.
Even as a dragon, I felt the pulse of his power. He was smaller than we were, a creature of shadow and silk rather than scale and flame, but his aura pressed against mine like ice against fire. The storm screamed between us.
Dryn’s voice crackled through the thunder. “That’s no drake. That’s him, isn’t it? The night-thing?”
“Yes,” I rumbled. “The leech king himself.”
“He dares to fly our skies?” Gryn spat lightning in disgust.
“He dares much worse,” I said. “He flies toward the same prey.”
The twins fell silent. They knew the weight of that word... prey.
Vaelrith rumbled in my mind. "He tasted her once. He will come again. They all will. The gods made her the match to every throne, and now the thrones will burn for her."
“She is not a prize,” I snapped.
"Then why do your claws ache when you smell her?"
I had no answer.
We angled higher, breaching the cloud layer. The sun hung low and red, painting the storm like spilled blood. The land below spread endless: forests, rivers, the jagged scar of the Wolf Dominion’s mountains. Somewhere beneath that canopy of green and shadow lay the temple of the Lunar Mother, where the Alpha King planned to claim the Phoenix as his Luna.
The thought made my chest tighten.
Gryn growled. “We can catch him. He’s lighter but slower. The air favors us.”
“Do not engage,” I ordered.
He barked a laugh. “That’s not what your eyes say.”
“My eyes say I’ll burn this world before I let a vampire reach her first,” I replied. “But we play this carefully. If the Wolf sees two kings in his sky, he’ll think war before reason.”
"He would not be wrong," Vaelrith whispered.
The air grew colder and dense with the weight of ancient magic. The clouds above us rippled like water, and through them drifted that scent again, smoke and lavender. Faint, but unmistakable.
She was alive. She was near.
I felt the bond between us hum like a string pulled taut. Every heartbeat of hers echoed faintly in mine, joined by others, four rhythms woven into a single song. It should not have been possible. It was an abomination. It was divine.
Dryn’s voice was low and uncertain. “Does it feel… wrong to you? The way her presence hums through the air?”
“It feels inevitable,” I said.
Below, lightning flashed in patterns that weren’t natural, lines of movement across the ground. Wolf patrols. Soldiers. The Wildlands bristled with life, unaware that two dragons and a vampire were circling above like gods in disguise.
“Gryn,” I said, “take your division west. Find the river pass near their border and secure it. No one follows the vampire into the mountains.”
He inclined his scaled head. “And if he reaches the temple first?”
“Then pray the wolves have built it from stone that doesn’t burn.”
He roared laughter and peeled away, a comet of flame disappearing into the distance.
That left me and Dryn, climbing higher, breaking into the clean cold of the upper air. The Vampire King was a dark blot moving ahead, his wings cutting through cloud and sunlight alike.
Vaelrith hissed. "He knows we follow. He is mocking us."
“Let him,” I said. “Let him fly thinking himself untouchable.”
The wind whipped past like a living thing. My scales reflected the storm, flashes of gold and crimson. Below, Dryn’s enormous shadow rippled across the trees, each wingbeat shaking snow from the peaks.
“The wolf will see us soon,” Dryn said. “If you mean to reach her before him, we’ll have to land.”
“Not yet.” I angled downward, feeling the air heat under my chest. “We stay above until we see where the vampire lands. Then we descend.”
“And if the wolf strikes first?”
“Then he meets fire.”
_________________
We broke through the last veil of clouds as dusk bled into night. The first stars blinked awake, cold, sharp, and indifferent. Far below, torchlight dotted the Wildlands like scattered embers. And there, nestled against the cliffs, rose the Lunar Temple: a structure of pale stone and silver domes, glowing faintly beneath the moon.
Even from here I could feel the pull of its magic, ancient and patient. It was holy ground. Wolves believed the Lunar Mother blessed all true bonds there. Perhaps she did. Perhaps she laughed at them.
Vaelrith’s voice slid through my mind, half amusement, half hungry. "The firebird stands where gods still whisper. You would defy them to claim her."
“I don’t defy gods,” I said. “I remind them who forged the world they ruined.”
Behind us, thunder rolled again, but it wasn’t thunder. It was wings.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the silhouette of the Vampire King cutting across the horizon, black lightning trailing from his wake. Even from miles away, I could feel his arrogance, his fury, and his hunger.
Dryn’s eyes flared gold. “He’s closing.”
“Then let him come.” I flexed my talons, heat rippling beneath my scales. “If he touches her before I do, the sky itself will burn.”
Vaelrith’s laughter filled me, wild and terrible. "The gods will weep to see it, fire, night, and blood, all chasing the same heart."
“Then let them watch,” I said, and folded my wings.
We dove through the clouds, the scent of smoke and lavender drawing us downward like gravity, toward the temple where fate waited....
and the war of kings was about to begin.