206

206
Valencia’s POV
I flew as fast as my wings could carry me.
Through the mate bond, I felt Logan's pain. Felt his desperation. Felt him saying goodbye.
No. No, no, no.
I pushed harder. My injured wing screamed in protest but I ignored it. Nothing mattered except reaching him.
Then I saw it.
The battlefield stretched below me like a vision of hell. Bodies everywhere. Blood soaking into the earth. Fire and smoke rising from burning equipment.
And in the center, on a small hill, I saw them.
That's all that remained. Surrounded by hundreds of enemy wolves. Trapped. About to be slaughtered.
Logan was there. Collapsed against a rock. Blood covering his body. But alive.
Relief flooded through me. Then rage. Pure, burning rage.
These bastards. These fucking bastards had dared to hurt my mate. Had dared to destroy my pack.
I opened my jaws and roared.
The sound shook the air. Made the earth tremble. Every head on the battlefield turned to look up at me.
I dove.
Straight down toward the mass of enemy warriors surrounding the hill.
Fire exploded from my throat. Not controlled streams. Just pure destruction.
The flames hit the ground like a meteor strike. A wave of golden-red fire spread outward in a circle. Consuming everything in its path.
Warriors screamed. Shifted. Tried to run. But dragon fire was faster.
I watched them burn. Watched fur and flesh turn to ash. Watched bones blacken and crumble.
And I felt nothing but satisfaction.
I pulled up. Circled once. Surveyed the damage.
Maybe a hundred dead in that first attack. Vaporized. Gone.
The survivors scattered. Running in every direction. No formation. No strategy. Just pure panic.
I targeted the largest group. Maybe fifty warriors running toward the forest.
I dove again. Lower this time. Close enough to see their terrified faces.
Fire poured from my jaws. It caught them mid-run. They didn't even have time to scream.
Another group tried to hide behind some boulders. Like rocks would protect them from dragon fire.
I circled around. Breathed fire from above. The boulders superheated. The warriors hiding behind them cooked alive.
A dozen wolves tried to fight back. Formed a defensive circle. Arrows flew toward me.
Their arrows were pathetic. They bounced off my scales like raindrops.
I descended on them. My claws crushed three warriors before they could react. My tail swept another five off their feet. My jaws closed around a sixth. I bit down. Felt his spine snap.
The rest broke formation. Ran.
I chased them. Hunted them like the prey they were.
One by one, I killed them. Fire. Claws. Teeth. It didn't matter how. They all died the same.
Through the battlefield, I saw Logan's surviving warriors. They weren't fighting anymore. They were just watching. Staring at me with awe and terror.
I flew high. Gained altitude. I gathered all my power. All of Alduin's rage. All my own fury at seeing Logan nearly killed.
Heat built in my chest. Growing. Expanding. Reaching critical mass.
Then I released it.
The shockwave of fire exploded outward. A sphere of destruction spreading in all directions.
It hit the ground and kept going. Rolling across the battlefield like a tidal wave of flame.
Warriors caught in it simply disappeared. Turned to ash before they could even scream.
The ones on the edges of the blast were thrown backward. Burned. Broken. Dead or dying.
When the fire finally faded, I hovered in the air. Breathing hard. The battlefield was silent except for the crackling of flames and the moans of the dying.
I'd killed hundreds. Maybe over four hundred. In less than ten minutes.
There, Alduin said. One remains. The strong one.
I followed his thought. Looked down at the battlefield.
A figure stood among the carnage. He shifted.
Not into a wolf. Into a lion.
Golden fur. Massive mane. At least twice the size of Logan's Lycan form.
Winston Ashwood.
He looked up at me. His golden eyes met mine. And he smiled.
"Finally," his voice boomed across the battlefield. "The dragon shows herself. I was beginning to think you were a coward."
I descended. Landed about fifty feet from him. The impact sent tremors through the ground.
We faced each other across the scorched earth.
"You killed my family," I said. "You murdered the Ogden royal line. You started this war. And now you'll pay for it."
Ashwood laughed. "The Ogden family was weak. They gave up their dragon power for peace. They were fools. They deserved to die."
"They were innocent people."
"There are no innocent people in war. Only winners and losers." He began circling me slowly. "And I always win."
"Not today."
I lunged at him. My jaws opened wide. Going for his throat.
He dodged. Faster than something his size should be able to move.
His claws raked across my side. Drew blood. The pain was sharp. Real.
I spun. My tail whipped around. Caught him in the ribs.
He flew backward. Hit the ground. Rolled. Came up on his feet immediately.
"Good!" he roared. "You have some fight in you!"
He charged.
We collided in the center of the battlefield. Claws tearing. Teeth snapping. Both of us fighting with everything we had.
He was strong. Incredibly strong. His jaws clamped down on my foreleg. I felt his fangs punch through scales. Through muscle. Scraping bone.
I roared in pain. Breathed fire directly into his face.
He released me. Jumped back. But the fire barely singed his mane. His lion hide was tough. Fire-resistant.
This wasn't going to be easy.
We circled each other again. Both of us bleeding now. Both of us wounded.
"You can't beat me," Ashwood said. "I've killed dragons before." He lunged again. This time going low. Under my guard.
His claws found my belly. Tore through scales. Drew deep gashes.
I stumbled back. Blood poured from the wounds.
Through the mate bond, I felt Logan trying to stand. Trying to help.
Stay down, I sent to him. This is my fight.
Valencia, he's too strong—
I can handle it. Trust me.
I turned my full attention back to Ashwood. He was circling again. Looking for another opening.
My wounds were serious. My wing still ached from the ballista bolt. My belly was torn open. Blood dripped onto the scorched earth.
But I thought about everyone who'd sacrificed for this moment.
Kevin and Sienna. Killed because Ophelia needed me to suffer. To be forged into a weapon.
Ophelia herself. Giving her life. Her power. Everything.
Kiora. Leaving her son. Watching over me for eighteen years.
Logan. Nearly dying today. Losing so many warriors.
All of it because of Ashwood. Because of his greed. His ambition. His cruelty.
I felt Alduin's presence grow stronger in my mind.
We fight as one, he said. Not dragon and rider. Not two separate beings. One entity. One purpose.
Yes, I agreed.
Power surged through me. Different from before. Not just Alduin's strength added to mine. But a true fusion. A perfect synchronization.
My eyes blazed pure gold. Brighter than ever before.
Ashwood noticed. His confident smile faltered slightly.
"What—"
I didn't give him time to finish.
I moved faster than Ashwood expected.
My claws caught his shoulder. Tore deep. My jaws snapped at his throat. He dodged. Barely.
He tried to counter-attack. But I was already moving. Already pivoting.
My tail whipped around. Caught his hind legs. Swept them out from under him.
He fell. For the first time in the fight, he actually fell.
I was on him immediately. My full weight pressing down. My claws digging into his sides.
He roared. Thrashed. His incredible strength throwing me partially off.
But I held on. My jaws found his mane. Bit down. Pulled.
He howled in pain. His claws raked across my face. One caught my eye. The pain was blinding.
But I didn't let go.
Now, Alduin's voice came. End it now.
I released his mane. Repositioned. Found his throat with my jaws.
Ashwood's golden eyes went wide. He knew what was coming.
"Wait—" he started.
I bit down.
My fangs punched through his thick lion hide. Through muscle. Through his windpipe.
His blood filled my mouth. Hot. Bitter.
He tried to roar. But I held firm.
I shook my head. Felt vertebrae separate. Felt his spine snap.
His body went limp. The light faded from his golden eyes.
Winston Ashwood was dead.
I released his throat. Stepped back. Stared down at his body.
The tyrant who'd murdered an entire royal family. Who'd started this war. Who'd caused so much pain and suffering.
I shifted back to human form. Naked. Covered in blood. Both his and mine.
I stumbled. My wounds were serious. The adrenaline was fading. Pain crashed over me in waves.
But I stayed standing.
"Valencia!" Logan's voice. Hoarse. Desperate.
I turned. Saw him limping toward me. Elias supporting him. Both of them covered in blood and dirt.
I tried to walk toward them. My legs gave out.
Logan caught me. Despite his own injuries, despite barely being able to stand himself, he caught me.
We collapsed together. Holding each other.
"You came," he whispered. "You actually came."
"Of course I came. You're my mate. My Alpha. I'll always come for you."
"I thought we'd lost. Thought I'd never see you again."
"I'm here. It's over. Ashwood is dead. We won."
I heard footsteps. Voices. People moving around us.
But I kept my eyes on Logan. On his gray eyes that I'd thought I'd never see again.
"How many survived?" I asked quietly.
Logan's expression darkened. "Twenty-eight of ours. Maybe fifty of Kestrel's. Out of four hundred."
The number hit me like a physical blow. We'd lost over three hundred warriors.
"Kestrel?"
"Dead. She fought bravely. But she didn't make it."
Tears formed in my eyes. Not for Kestrel specifically. But for everyone we'd lost. Everyone who'd died today.
"This has to be the end," I said. "No more war. No more killing. Valdoria and Aldermere need peace."