Chapter 3: The Ruthless Hunter

LEIF'S POV

I reached over my shoulder, my fingers finding the familiar stock of the Morvain Mk-IV. The rifle had been in my family for three generations, passed from one hunter to the next along with the knowledge of what it was built to kill. Its barrel was cold-forged Dragonsteel, strong enough to pierce dragon scales, while faint runes glowed along the metal beneath the Red Moon. The enchanted crystalline scope allowed me to see through smoke and dragonfire, making darkness and distance almost meaningless. Seven Dragonbane rounds rested inside the chamber and magazine, each tipped with crystallized wyvern venom capable of bringing down a dragon.

I pulled the rifle free and settled it against my shoulder. The weight was familiar, almost comforting after fourteen years of carrying the same purpose with me. One shot to slow a dragon. Two to bring it down. Three to finish it. Never hesitate. Hesitation got hunters killed.

"I won't hesitate."

But something was wrong. The dragon's flight wasn't steady. It climbed sharply, then suddenly dipped, one wing folding awkwardly before spreading again. Its movements were uneven, almost desperate, and the longer I watched, the less it looked like a creature hunting for its next victim and the more it looked like something struggling simply to remain in the air.

Then the dragon opened its jaws.

Fire erupted toward the forest below.

Onyx reared violently beneath me, and I pulled hard on the reins, steering the stallion away from the growing inferno as flames swept across the trees. The heat reached me even through the distance, but before I could decide whether the dragon was heading toward the village, it abruptly changed direction. Instead of diving toward Oakhaven, it twisted sharply away from the village and headed toward the sea.

My brow furrowed.

Oakhaven lay directly beneath the path the dragon had been taking. One sweep of its fire would have been enough to turn the village into an inferno, and hundreds of people would have died before anyone could react. Yet the dragon had abandoned it.

The memory of the woman's voice returned before I could stop it.

"Please... run."

Then another.

"I only want you alive."

My jaw tightened. "No."

It was a trick. It had to be. A predator didn't suddenly become merciful after fourteen years of killing. Perhaps it wanted to lure me away from the village, or perhaps it was simply trying to confuse me long enough to escape. Either way, I couldn't afford to trust it.

I raised the Morvain Mk-IV, pressing the stock firmly against my shoulder as the crystalline scope found the dragon's silhouette against the red sky. My finger settled along the trigger, not touching it yet, while I watched the creature continue toward the sea.

One shot.

I drew a slow breath and held it.

The dragon kept flying.

For a moment, the sight through the scope changed. I saw the massive creature, but beneath the scales and wings, my mind dragged up another image: the frightened woman chained to the tower floor, blood on her lips, tears in her eyes, and the warmth of her mouth still lingering on my own. I remembered the way she had grabbed my jacket and pulled me toward her, and I hated how clearly my body remembered the feeling.

My finger moved against the trigger.

Then stopped.

The dragon continued flying away from Oakhaven. I lowered the rifle by an inch.

My mother's scream crashed through my memory. Fire swallowing our home. Ash falling through the night. Her body collapsing beneath the flames while the dragon disappeared into the darkness, leaving me with nothing but smoke, hatred, and the memory of being too young to stop it.

My grip tightened around the rifle.

She burned Oakhaven. She killed my mother. She's a monster.

But another thought slipped through before I could crush it.

Then why isn't she burning Oakhaven now?

My eyes narrowed. The dragon had every opportunity to turn back. Instead, it kept moving toward the sea, farther from the village and farther from every living person.

"Trick," I muttered. "She's trying to confuse you."

Yet the question remained. If it was a trick, why hadn't she killed me in the tower?

I remembered the claws stopping inches from my heart. I remembered her hands fighting against themselves before she drove the claws into her own chest instead. I remembered the look in her eyes when she had begged me to run, and the strange pain that had struck my own chest every time she bled.

My finger remained still.

The dragon suddenly twisted in the air, fighting against something I couldn't see. Its wings beat unevenly as its enormous body lurched toward the forest for a moment before turning back toward the sea.

I watched in silence.

It wasn't trying to reach Oakhaven.

It was trying to get away from it.

Somehow, that unsettled me more than if it had attacked.

I raised the rifle again. The scope settled over the dragon's body, and this time I forced myself not to think about the woman in the tower. I focused on the scales, the wings, the creature I had hunted for fourteen years.

Hatred was easier than doubt.

I took another breath and steadied the rifle.

My finger tightened.

The Morvain Mk-IV bucked against my shoulder. The Dragonbane round screamed through the night and struck the dragon's right wing.

A cry tore across the sky.

The sound hit my chest like a physical blow. My fingers opened instinctively, and my whole body lurched over the saddle as agony exploded beneath my ribs. I pressed a hand against my sternum, fighting for breath while the pain spread through my chest as though someone had driven a blade straight into my heart.

"What the hell..."

High above the forest, the dragon twisted violently. One of its wings sagged as the Dragonbane round tore through the membrane and buried venom deep inside the flesh. It roared, and the sound rolled across the forest, but instead of turning toward Oakhaven, it continued toward the sea.

I stared through the scope.

The creature could barely keep itself in the air. Yet it was still running.

My grip tightened around the rifle as another pulse of pain moved through my chest. It wasn't my wound. I knew that. The bullet had struck the dragon, not me.

But I could feel it.

I could feel its agony, and somewhere beneath that pain was something else that made my chest tighten even more. Fear. Not fear for itself.

Fear for me.

My breathing stopped for a moment.

The dragon suddenly twisted its head toward me. Its golden eyes found the forest below, and for one impossible second, I felt the full force of its rage through the bond. It was hot, violent, and wild enough to make my fingers tremble around the rifle.

But the rage never became an attack.

The dragon turned away.

Toward the sea.

I stared after it. "Why?"

I didn't expect an answer. The dragon fought its own body as it flew, one wing dragging lower than the other. Every movement seemed to cost it more strength, yet it kept putting distance between itself and Oakhaven.

My eyes narrowed.

The village was safe. That should have been enough.

Instead, the thought made something inside me uncomfortable.

I chambered another round. The bolt slid forward with a cold metallic click. My finger settled against the trigger again, but this time it didn't move.

The dragon was getting farther away. If I waited much longer, it would disappear beyond the cliffs and into the open sea.

I remembered my mother's voice.

I remembered the woman in the tower.

I remembered the claws stopping before they reached my heart.

My breathing became heavier. I could feel the hesitation spreading through me, and I hated it because hesitation was something I had trained out of myself years ago.

Mother.

The woman.

Monster.

My eyes followed the dragon's silhouette through the scope as it grew smaller against the red sky. Then a thought surfaced, one I didn't want and couldn't explain.

Mate.

My eyes widened slightly. "No."

I forced the word through my teeth and tightened my grip around the rifle. I didn't know where that thought had come from, and I refused to give it meaning. The dragon kept flying.

I could almost hear her voice again.

"Please... run."

My finger tightened further.

For one impossible heartbeat, I wished the shot would miss.

Then the rifle bucked.

The second Dragonbane round tore through the opposite wing.

Agony exploded inside my skull.

The world tilted violently. My heartbeat slammed against my ribs, and my vision blurred as the bond hit me with a wave of pain so powerful that I nearly fell from Onyx's back. I gripped the saddle with one hand, struggling to stay upright while the dragon above me gave a terrible cry.

Its wings faltered.

The massive body hung suspended in the night for one impossible heartbeat.

Then it fell.

My breath caught.

The dragon plummeted toward the sea, its broken wings folding against its body as gravity dragged it downward. Through the scope, I could still see its golden eyes, and even across that impossible distance, I felt something pass through the bond.

Sorrow.

A single tear caught the moonlight before the dragon disappeared into the darkness below.

For one impossible heartbeat, I didn't see a monster falling toward the sea.

I saw her.

The woman who had smiled when I kissed her. The woman who had begged me to run. The woman who had looked at me as though I was something worth protecting, even while I held a sword against her heart.

I had spent fourteen years trying to kill the dragon. I had never imagined that when I finally succeeded, it would feel like losing her.

Then the sea swallowed the dragon.

Silence followed.

I remained on Onyx, staring at the place where she had disappeared. The rifle was still pressed against my shoulder, but my finger had already left the trigger. I couldn't hear anything except the waves crashing against the cliffs below and the heavy beat of my own heart.

After a moment, I dismounted.

I searched the cliffs until the eastern sky began to brighten. I climbed over jagged rocks, scanning every crashing wave and every dark patch between the breakers. I walked the shoreline until my boots were soaked with seawater, searching for a body, a wing, blood, anything that would prove the dragon had survived or died.

Nothing.

No body. No blood. No dragon.

Only the endless ocean.

"It sank..."

My voice sounded strangely empty.

After fourteen years, it was finally over. I should have felt victorious. I should have felt the satisfaction I'd imagined since I was a boy standing among the ashes of Oakhaven, waiting for the day I would finally put my sword through the creature that had taken everything from me.

Instead, there was only silence inside me.

I eventually returned to Onyx and mounted again. The ride toward Oakhaven was slow, the first rays of dawn painting the horizon gold while the forest remained dark around me. I barely noticed the changing light. My mind kept returning to the sea, to the golden eyes disappearing beneath the waves, and to the strange emptiness that had settled beneath my ribs.

Every mile away from the coast made the ache grow deeper. It no longer felt like pain. It felt as though something had been ripped away from me and my body hadn't yet understood that it was gone.

I shifted uneasily in the saddle. My breathing became shallow, and my fingers tightened around the reins before suddenly going numb.

The warmth from the tower was gone.

Completely.

It had been there when she was near me, a strange heat beneath my ribs that I had blamed on the magic she had used against me. Now there was nothing. Only an emptiness so cold that it made my stomach twist.

No. Come back.

My brow furrowed.

Why had that thought even existed?

I straightened in the saddle and tried to ignore it, but my body felt heavier with every passing minute. The Morvain Mk-IV hung across my back, its weight familiar but somehow different now, as though the weapon carried the memory of what I had done.

My thoughts returned to her final words.

"Live..."

My vision blurred. The trees around me swayed, though there was barely any wind. My heartbeat echoed loudly inside my ears, and each breath became harder than the last.

I had survived worse wounds. I had marched for days without food, hunted monsters through blizzards, and fought creatures that should have killed me more than once. A little pain shouldn't have been enough to bring me down.

So why couldn't I stay upright?

Onyx slowed, sensing my condition. I tried to straighten myself, but my arms refused to obey. The reins slipped through my fingers.

"Keep going." My voice barely came out.

Onyx continued for another few steps before slowing again. I reached for my chest, pressing my palm against the place where the strange warmth had once been.

Nothing.

Only emptiness remained, and for reasons I couldn't understand, that emptiness terrified me.

My body swayed sideways. I tried to grab the saddle, but my fingers missed.

Gravity won.

I hit the ground with a heavy thud, the impact barely registering through the weakness spreading across my body. Onyx circled back immediately, neighing frantically beside me as I struggled to open my eyes.

The last thing I remembered wasn't my mother's face.

It was hers.

The woman who had kissed me in the tower, smiling through tears as though she already knew something I didn't.

"Thank you..."

Then darkness took me.

The Morvain Mk-IV lay beside me in the dirt, its runes no longer glowing.

Somewhere beyond the endless sea, something answered.