Salem's POV
He is here.
The air reeks of his scent—sharp, cold, and poisoned by blood and hate. Lucius. The son of my mate's murderer. The son of the man who slaughtered her before my eyes and nearly drove our kind to extinction. That heavy, oppressive presence creeping up the mountainside like a shadow with purpose. The air shifts with it, colder, heavier. I should have known he would come. Evil always finds a way to finish what it starts. Dragons were once gods among monsters; now we're hunted myths. And he, the bloodline of our destroyer, dares to come for the last of us.
And now, he stands at the edge of my mountain, eyes glinting with the same hunger his father once had—the hunger to see dragons wiped from existence. To him, my kind is a mistake, an abomination that must be erased. The last surviving dragons are me, and the fragile lives sealed within the three eggs resting behind me. If he kills me, if he destroys those eggs, the dragon lineage will end forever.
