POV: Elara
I was coming for every lash, every deception, every time they told me I didn't fit.
They'd watch me rise, and then they'd burn.
The city was covered in shade as Kael and I flew above the trees, my wings stretched wide. The wind howled around us like war drums. Below, our forces, the secret Elders, the banned wolves, and the dragon-marked, marched under a single banner: revenge.
"Once we break the gates, everything changes," Kael said beside me, holding the reins of his black warhorse as we dropped. "There's no turning back."
"There never was," I answered.
And then, like lightning hitting the heart of the kingdom, we arrived.
The outer gates of the Court broke beneath the force of my fire.
Smoke curled through the streets. Chaos. Screaming. Soldiers rushed to defend Seraphina's fake crown.
I landed in the courtyard with a crack that split the stone. My wings folded behind me, smoke rising from my fingers.
Kael dismounted, drawing his blade. "You go for the throne," he growled. "I'll hold the line."
I nodded, heart beating. "Don't die."
He gave me a goofy grin. "I don't plan to. I have something to live for now."
I pushed through the smoking doors of the throne room.
Seraphina stood at the top of the stairs, dressed in black and gold, the stolen crown gleaming on her head. Luca stood at her side, his smile poisonous.
"Elara," Seraphina sneered, descending slowly. "I knew you couldn't stay dead. Filth never does."
I stepped forward, claws forming at my fingers. "Funny. I was about to say the same about you."
"You'll never belong here," she hissed. "Not with them. Not with the wolves. You're a stain on our bloodline."
"No," I said. "I'm the truth that survived your lies."
She charged, silver blades sparkling.
We clashed like storms.
Blades met claws. Fire met ice.
She slashed across my arm. I spun and sent a blast of fire into her chest, but she rolled, avoiding the worst of it.
"I should have drowned you as a babe," she spat. "Like your mother."
I froze.
"You killed her?"
Seraphina smiled, blood dripping from her lip. "She begged. I laughed."
Rage erupted inside me. I screamed, not in fear, but anger.
The ground cracked beneath my feet. My wolf rose within me, howling.
And in one swift breath, I shifted.
Not into wolves.
Not dragon alone.
But both.
Scales rippled down my body. Fur lined my arms. Eyes burned red-gold. My voice was two, Elara and the storm she'd been born to be.
"I was never yours to control."
With one roar, I lunged, and Seraphina screamed.
Across the room, Kael burst through the doors, sword flashing.
"ELARA!"
But it was a trap.
Luca turned, blade hidden under his coat.
Before Kael could reach me, Luca drove the knife into his side.
Kael fell, gasping.
"No!" I screamed, fire bursting from my hands.
Seraphina lunged again, blade aimed at my heart, but I spun and caught her wrist mid-strike. My hand sizzled on touch, but I didn't let go.
"You were wrong about me," I growled.
She sneered. "You're just a freak."
I tightened my grip until her bones cracked. "No. I'm the future you tried to erase."
And then I burned her.
Not just with flame, but with every ounce of pain, anger, and hidden truth I'd ever swallowed.
Seraphina's scream rang through the court as her power shattered, the stolen crown falling to the ground.
I turned to Kael.
He lay bleeding, face pale.
"Don't you dare die," I whispered, falling to my knees beside him.
He coughed, lips stained red. "I told you… not my plan…"
My tears fell onto his chest. "You idiot. You were supposed to stay behind."
"And miss your moment?" He chuckled weakly. "Never."
"You saved me," I said.
He reached up, touched my face. "You saved everyone."
The remaining Elders stepped forward as the fires died.
The chair stood empty.
Kael, injured but alive, pulled himself up with help. He looked at me, not the fire, not the wings, but me.
And then, with the weight of the world watching, he dropped to one knee.
"Elara Varyn," he said, voice hoarse but sure. "You were forged in fire. You rose from ash. And you stood when every chain tried to break you."
"I don't need a crown," I whispered.
"But you deserve one."
He held up the golden circlet from the floor.
"I choose you. As my Luna. As my Queen."
The world seemed to hold its breath.
I stepped forward.
"I don't want the throne for power," I said. "I want it to make sure no girl like me ever bleeds in silence again."
I took the crown.
But I didn't place it on my head.
I turned to Kael and put it gently on his.
Then I knelt before him.
"I choose you. Not as a chair. Not as a title. But as the only man who ever saw the storm in me… and stood beside it."
His breath hitched. "Elara…"
And then he pulled me to him and kissed me, deep, desperate, real.
The court burst into cheers. The war was over.
Or so we thought... because in the crowd, hidden in a black robe, one figure turned away from the light.
Their voice was a whisper, barely heard above the party.
"She's not the only hybrid…"
A second person stepped beside them, and the war… isn't over.
They disappeared into the shadows, and somewhere in the ruins of the old world, something darker than flame began to stir.
Beneath the burned bones of old temples, beyond the reach of moonlight, buried in silence, yet never truly dead.
A breath, quick, wild, inhuman.
The last spark of a lost god pulsed in the deep. Not as a dragon, not as a wolf, but something older and hungrier.
A hand... long, pale, clawed, broke through the earth. The hooded figure from the crowd stepped into the ruins, kneeling in respect before a burned altar.
"We did as you asked," he whispered. "The girl has risen. The court has fallen."
From the dark, a second voice rasped, dry as dust. "And she believes she has won?"
"Yes," the hooded person said. "They all do."
A low, booming laugh rolled through the room. The ground shook slightly beneath their feet. Something slithered along the walls, too fast to see. Too slow to stop.
"She is powerful," the voice said. "But fractured. Still holding to love. Still ruled by fire."
The hooded figure dropped his hood, showing pale skin marked with strange, jagged runes. "What should we do?"
The voice answered slowly, each word with a promise of ruin.
"Break her."
A flash of movement. A hiss from the middle of the altar, a black spark rose, no heat, no light, just darkness that moved.
"She carries the blood of dragons," the voice whispered. "But soon… she will beg for the power of shadows."
The hooded man bowed. "And the others?"
"They will kneel," said the voice. "Or they will die."
The altar split open. A set of golden eyes… slit and soulless, opened in the darkness.
And then a word, barely heard, carried on the wind through the ashes of the broken world.
"She may be queen of ashes... but I am king of what comes after."
Far above, Elara stood on the highest tower of the palace, looking at the sky.
A sudden cold wind blew through her firelit skin.
She turned, feeling something that hadn't been there before.
A voice, no louder than a breath… whispered in her mind: You are not the end, Elara. You are the beginning. And then… everywhere quiet, but deep in her chest, her dragon stirred, and her wolf growled.
The storm wasn't over; it was only sleeping, waiting, watching, and it had just opened its eyes.