Chapter 175: The New Power of the Werewolves

"Mercy?" Lya’s voice was nothing more than a glacial whisper.

She tilted her head slightly, as if weighing the idea.

Then, her lips curled back, revealing her sharp fangs in a feral grin.

"Too late."

And she breathed.

A torrent of blue fire erupted from her maw, sweeping away what little remained of the resistance as if it were nothing.

The rebels’ final screams were drowned out in an instant, replaced by silence—the silence of ash and death.

When the infernal blaze finally faded, nothing remained of them—only charred shadows burned into the ground.

Still in his lupine form, Handres turned slowly toward Lya, his silver eyes gleaming with savage satisfaction as he ran his tongue over the blood staining his muzzle.

Mercy had never been his strong suit.

And tonight was no exception.

As the heavy silence stretched on, Soren surveyed the battlefield with a hardened gaze, locking eyes with Handres.

"Well," the Lycan King finally exhaled, his voice eerily calm. "I suppose negotiations are over."

Lya slowly turned her colossal head toward him, her towering form still casting a shadow over the cemetery. Then, with a regal grace, she folded her wings, her expression utterly unmoved.

"They never started."

Loric squirmed lightly in Soraya’s protective embrace, his small hands reaching out as if searching for a way to free himself. The moment the dragoness loosened her hold, he wriggled out of her arms and took off running, his tiny footsteps echoing against the ground, still thick with the acrid scent of battle.

His childlike gaze, filled with admiration and unwavering love, locked onto the imposing form of Handres—the immense, dark, majestic wolf whose midnight-blue fur seemed to absorb the light around him.

He stopped just in front of him, tilting his head back to take in the sheer magnitude of the beast. For a moment, he hesitated—this was his adoptive father, he knew that—but seeing him like this, in all his feral, powerful glory, made him seem larger than life itself.

Then, with the innocence and boundless trust only a child could possess, he lifted his arms.

A low, rumbling growl, almost like a deep purring vibration, rumbled from Handres’ massive chest. With a movement far more gentle than his form suggested, the giant wolf lowered his head, nudging his snout into the small, waiting arms of his pup.

"My little wolf…" Handres rumbled, his voice thrumming with warmth and unyielding protection.

Loric immediately buried his face into the thick, silky fur, inhaling the scent that meant home, safety, and unconditional love.

"Daddy…" he whispered, his small fingers gripping the soft fur.

For a moment, he simply stayed there, nestled against the enormous wolf, basking in the comfort of absolute safety.

Then, a new wave of excitement lit up his tiny body. He turned toward Lya, his eyes sparkling with pure, innocent joy.

He laughed—a bright, crystal-clear sound that sliced through the remnants of the battle, a beacon of light amidst the darkness.

He began bouncing on his feet, flapping his little arms as if he hoped to take flight and join her in the sky.

Lya, still in her draconic form, watched her adopted son with infinite tenderness. Despite her massive size, she moved with careful precision, slightly folding her wings to avoid disturbing the sacred mausoleum.

Then, with deliberate gentleness, she lowered her head slowly, ensuring she didn’t break anything, didn’t hurt anyone.

Loric, completely in awe, reached up with small, eager hands, pressing them against the smooth, cool scales of his mother’s forehead, just between her enormous, loving eyes.

"Mommy…" he breathed, his voice carrying nothing but pure, unwavering love.

A shiver of magic ran through Lya’s massive frame.

This child. Her son.

He didn’t share a single drop of her blood—but he was hers. Entirely.

"My son…" she murmured, her voice vibrating with emotion.

She closed her eyes briefly, soaking in the warmth of his tiny hands, his love, knowing that this moment was worth every battle in the world.

And when she opened them again, her piercing blue gaze gleamed with a silent, unbreakable vow.

"We will always be here for you."

Loric nodded without hesitation, his bright smile lighting up his face. He heard her promise.

And he knew she would never break it.

As if responding to this profound, intimate moment, an almost timid yet potent energy rippled through the air. A subtle, reassuring pulse of magic—a whisper of life seeking an anchor.

The child growing within Lya stirred.

Though still nestled within her, the unborn pup reacted—as if sensing the boundless love already uniting their family, as if reaching out to its mother, its father, and the older brother who had just proven that his love knew no limits.

Soraya and Lina felt it instantly.

As dragonesses, they perceived this moment deeper than anyone else. This raw, pure essence—woven into draconic magic—spoke to them. A heartbeat just beginning to flutter, a force awakening, a new dynasty about to rise.

Their eyes gleamed with contained emotion as they exchanged a knowing glance.

Lya, their princess—the woman who had endured so much, who had been cast aside, who had been seen as alone and broken—was building her own legacy.

A legacy that was more than just draconic.

It was far greater.

And as for Caleb…

After his merciless demonstration, after the way he had fought without hesitation to protect his son, to protect his family—

He had earned their respect.

Permanently.

He wasn’t just the mate of their princess.

He was her equal.

The emotional moment lingered, before the reality of the situation settled back in.

With fluid precision, Caleb and Lya shifted back into their human forms.

The transformation was entirely different for each of them.

Caleb, regaining control from Handres, felt his body reform, bones cracking and muscles realigning in sharp, efficient movements. His breathing was slow, controlled, the adrenaline still thick in his veins. When he finally lifted his head, his icy blue eyes dared anyone to challenge his position.

Lya, however…

She radiated.

Her colossal dragon form pulsed with ethereal blue light, magic weaving around her as she contracted into pure energy.

And where a titaness of legend had stood—

A queen remained.

The moment her bare feet touched the ground, she turned—sharp as a blade—toward Soren’s advisor, the one who had dared to challenge them.

And she saw.

It wasn’t just fear in some of their gazes.

It wasn’t just the horror of having witnessed something they would never forget.

No.

She saw contempt.

A flicker of unchanged arrogance, a hostility so deeply rooted, it hadn’t even wavered in the face of the undeniable.

And suddenly—

She understood.

She finally understood.

Why Caleb and Drake relished mocking Soren.

Why Caleb refused to bow.

Why he demanded that werewolves never lower their gaze before Lycans.

Because Jack and Emma had already whispered this truth to her, long ago.

In this kingdom, many Lycans—especially those from noble families or circles close to power—viewed werewolves as inferior creatures.

As nothing more than beasts, lacking the nobility inherent to Lycans. A race undeserving of a crown, respect, or recognition.

And today...

Today, in the eyes of those filled with contempt, werewolves had just climbed an unacceptable rung on the hierarchy.

The royal pack no longer had just one dragon in its ranks.

It had three.

Three.

Which meant that the once-scorned werewolves had just gained unparalleled power.

And with a natural-born child on the way, an heir carrying both draconic and werewolf blood, a new force was about to emerge—one that fused two powerful lineages into one.

Panic must have been spreading like wildfire among the Lycans' elite.

Deep in thought, Lya continued analyzing the looks she had caught, trying to decipher the tangled mix of fear and disdain in their eyes. The tension still lingering in the air left a bitter taste on her tongue, and despite her outward calm, she could feel a quiet irritation growing inside her.

But before she could dive further into her thoughts, a voice—completely off-topic—cut through the heavy atmosphere with alarming casualness.

“Hold on a second…”

Drake stood with his arms crossed, his gaze flickering between Caleb and himself, then back to Caleb again. He narrowed his eyes in utter confusion, before turning toward Lya, looking deeply offended.

"What the hell is this?!"

Lya blinked, caught off guard by the mix of outrage and accusation in his tone.

"What?" she asked, baffled.

Drake raised a dramatic finger, pointing straight at Caleb.

"Why is that guy dressed and I’m not?!"

Silence fell over the group.

Then, Soraya and Lina burst into laughter.

Lya rolled her eyes, while Caleb, unfazed, simply lifted an eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest.

"I’d like to point out that you’re still dressed, Drake," Caleb said in a patient tone, as if explaining something obvious to a particularly difficult child.

"Yeah, but that’s not the point!" Drake shot back, waving his hands. "The point is, why are you still dressed too?!"

Caleb blinked slowly, already exhausted by this conversation before it had even truly begun.

"Because my mate is smarter than you," he said smoothly, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Drake clutched his chest like he'd been mortally wounded.

"Oh, that was low… I’ll recover, but it’s gonna take time…"

Then, he whirled toward Lya, his expression one of pure betrayal.

"So let me get this straight… You go out of your way to magically clothe Caleb, but the rest of us mere mortals can go to hell?!"

Lya let out a long, suffering sigh, before flashing him an innocently smug smile.

"Exactly."

Drake took a step back, as if the revelation was too much to handle.

"You…!" He dramatically gasped, then leaned toward Caleb with exaggerated shock. "Wait… So not only does she dress you, but she does it willingly?! Did you request a specific look, or did she freestyle it?"

Caleb shrugged, amusement flickering in his eyes.

"I would’ve liked a cape, but she said it was 'too dramatic'."

Drake choked on his laughter.

Lya, meanwhile, rubbed her temples, looking thoroughly done with both of them.

"You two are impossible."

But despite herself, she couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at the corner of her lips, especially as she caught Soraya and Lina openly laughing at the absurdity of the conversation.

And deep down, she knew that had been Drake’s goal all along.