Page 125 of The Aurora Marelup Complete Saga Omnibus

“Father? Is she able to shift?” I look to my bond mates then sigh softly before returning to the call. “If she can shift, what is she now?” My brows knit together. Apparently, I ask the question that is on everyone’s minds.

The atmosphere crackles with tension, each moment stretching out like an eternity as we wait with bated breath. The silence weighs heavy upon us, oppressive and suffocating, like a noose tightening around our necks.

Aurora’s sudden roar shatters the quietude, echoing through the night with a ferocity that sends shivers down our spines.It’s a sound we’ve never heard from her before, primal and untamed, carrying with it an undercurrent of primal fury.

Beside her, Alaric struggles against unseen forces, his body contorting and convulsing as if battling against an invisible adversary. Scales ripple across his exposed flesh, a stark reminder of the dormant power that lies within him, yearning to break free.

As Aurora’s gaze flickers toward us, a silent plea for understanding and support, the tension reaches a fever pitch. With a sense of urgency, she clambers onto Dante’s back, her movements swift and purposeful.

And then, with a mighty beat of his wings, Dante launches into the sky, carrying Aurora away into the darkness. The air crackles with anticipation, thick with uncertainty and foreboding, as we watch them disappear into the night, leaving us behind with our unanswered questions and mounting fears.

“What the fuck just happened!?” Dimitri screams in a panic as we watch the dragon swarm shifting and taking off after Aurora.

As Alaric relays the unsettling news to Nicodeamus, a palpable sense of dread settles over us like a suffocating blanket. The gravity of the situation weighs heavily on our shoulders, each word spoken by Nicodeamus adding to the mounting tension in the air.

“The last great Wyrm Force Dragon... an ancient. He defeated the last hybrid that went insane. If he’s calling Aurora, it may be the end of his time or hers,” Nicodeamus’s voice crackles over the line, his words laden with ominous implications. The mention of Gallus sends shivers down our spines, his legendary status casting a shadow of fear over our already troubled minds.

Alaric’s urgency is palpable as he speaks, his voice tinged with desperation as he warns of the imminent danger. But evenas he races down the hill in a desperate bid to confront the looming threat, a sense of helplessness washes over those of us left behind.

With Nicodeamus’s cryptic words echoing in our ears, uncertainty hangs heavy in the air like a thick fog. We exchange apprehensive glances, grappling with the magnitude of the situation and the unsettling realization that we may be facing forces beyond our comprehension.

As the wolves stare at us with unblinking eyes, their silent scrutiny only serves to heighten our unease. In the face of impending danger, we are left with more questions than answers, our nerves stretched taut like the strings of a bow ready to snap at any moment.

“We need the challengers from the Dire Wolves as well as the Lycans. Let the battles begin,” Dimitri says, then starts walking to a nearby clearing to wait for the battles to start. Normalcy must be maintained, and dominance must be re-established within the packs before all hell breaks loose. I’ll watch over it all, unbiased, while Aurora and Alaric take care of whatever needs to be done.

As I gaze up at the sky, a sense of foreboding washes over me like a dark tide. The once serene mid-day sky transforms before my eyes, morphing into an ominous, inky canvas that seems to swallow the sunlight whole.

From our camp, a swarm of dragons emerges, their majestic forms blotting out the once-pristine azure. Their scales shimmer with an otherworldly brilliance, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the heavens. Each beat of their vast wings sends shockwaves reverberating through the air, a thunderous symphony of power and majesty.

As they sail through the heavens, their sinewy bodies twist and coil with a serpentine grace, catching the dying embers of the sun and casting them forth in a mesmerizing display of lightand shadow. The collective roar of their voices echoes across the landscape, a primal chorus that rattles the very foundations of the earth.

Beneath their colossal presence, the earth itself seems to tremble, as if bowing in deference to their dominion over the skies. They fly with purpose, driven by an ancient calling known only to their kind, their destination shrouded in mystery.

I watch in awe and trepidation as their silhouettes disappear into the distance, leaving me with a sense of uncertainty and unease. What awaits my mate and bond brother on their journey northward, I can only imagine, and the weight of that uncertainty hangs heavy in the air like a suffocating shroud.

CHAPTER 102

Gallus

For thousandsof years I have watched over the mountain ranges throughout what is now called Eastern Europe. Conquerors have come and gone, civilizations have risen and crumbled like dust in the wind. Oberon came to me earlier this year and told me of the ascension of a very special hybrid. This time a female was born, and she appears to be a welcomed balance between her species. If I was being called to put down another Elven creation, I don’t know what I would do.

I lie in my cavern at the highest peak of the oldest mountain hidden from human view. I close my silver orbs and reach out, feeling the different life forces out there. The hybrid has changed and had almost died. Self-preservation kicked in, and her dragon side kept her alive. Lucky for her, she had a mystic in her group that knew what to do. Oberon had paid her a visit and now stands before me.

“Old friend, mentor, I need your help one last time.” The sadness in Oberon’s eyes tells me something is going terribly wrong.

It’s been years, maybe centuries, since I last shifted to a human form. “What do you need, child?” Even being thousands of years old himself, Oberon is barely a quarter of my age.

“Aurora’s wolf side is dying even after healing. Is there anything you can do to save her and her wolf? She must live and exterminate the blight called the Strigoi.” Oberon’s eyes are pleading with me, begging me for the one thing only I can give.

“She may not be able to survive what will happen to her if I do as you ask,” I say as I slip my arms into the silk robe Oberon offers me.

“I admit, I may have made an error when I chose her bloodline.” Oberon gets a very mischievous look in his lavender eyes. “Her grandmother is the Blood Queen. I believe she can survive, but what would she be after you change her?”

I shake my head at Oberon; his mistake inadvertently just made his request possible. “It depends on how strong her dragon side is, she would be more Force Dragon than Ice, but she would wield the powers of both.” I run through my abilities in my head: invisibility, able to breathe water, strike terror like mania into my opponents, my breath weapon means utter destruction, pure force unbridled.

I pace my cavern more, then look back at Oberon. “I will call her to me. If she survives, there will be nothing left alive strong enough to kill her—besides Odin himself.”

Oberon approaches me and wraps me up tightly in his embrace. “Thank you, old friend. I will see you in Elysium.” Blasted Fae flitted away in his glittery freaking mess.

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