Page 90 of The Midnight Death Match

Gunnar’s eyes widen in shock. Blood bubbles from his lips as he tries to speak, tries to curse me with his final breath. But the words never come. He collapses, his weapon falling from useless fingers.

The sight of their leader’s death breaks the remaining human attackers’ resolve. Some flee back into the forest, others throw down their weapons in surrender.

Only Leif remains, his sword lowered, his face a mask of grief and confusion. “Why did it have to come to this?”

I feel the battle-fury drain from my unified nature, leaving behind an exhaustion that goes deeper than bone. “Because you chose fear over trust, and you listened to those who called love corruption.”

Leif’s sword falls from his hands. He looks at Gunnar’s body, at the scattered remnants of their force, at the dragons who stand protectively over their riders. “What happens now?”

“Now you go home,” I tell him. “You tell them what you saw here. You tell them I am not the enemy, but I will not be victim either.”

My brother nods slowly, tears cutting tracks through the dirt on his face. Without another word, he turns and walks toward the forest, his shoulders bowed with defeat.

Harek appears at my side, his armor bloodied but his eyes bright with fierce pride. “I’ve never seen anyone fight like that.”

“Neither have I.” I look down at my hands, still faintly crackling with residual magic. For the first time in my life, I feel truly whole—hunter and wolf united, both sides of my nature working in perfect harmony. Maybe now I’ll be able to understand the mystery of the Secret Keeper.

Sapphire nudges my shoulder with her massive head, a rumble of approval vibrating through her chest. Vash croons softly, the sound carrying notes of pride and affection. The dragons had accepted me completely before, but now I understand why. They have always seen me as I truly am, not as two fractured pieces but as one unified whole.

Lys approaches, his hair stained with blood but his bearing proud. “The walls of Courtsview are open to you, Lady Eira,” hesays formally. “Our healing magic is yours to witness, and our allegiance is yours to command.”

“What? No riddle?”

That gets a slight chuckle.

I glance across the scarred meadow where the battle has raged. Bodies lie scattered among the flowers, the price of fear and hatred.

But I have survived, and more than that—I have finally found myself. The wolf and the hunter are no longer at war within me. They are partners, equals, two halves of a greater whole.

And for the first time since my father’s death, I have a glimmer of hope.

Chapter

Thirty-Three

Skoro looks smallerthan I remember. Not because of its size, but because now I know how much bigger the world is. It still sprawls across the hillside with its crooked roofs and uneven roads, and it has the nostalgic feel I’d expect from my hometown. But it feels different becauseI’mdifferent now.

The dragons circle once before landing in the field beyond the village walls. Vash’s landing sends tremors through the earth, which makes pale and frightened faces appear in windows. Sapphire touches down more gently, but her scales gleam with an otherworldly beauty that makes the watching villagers step back from their doorways.

Harek and I climb down. This time, we don’t enter town through a side entrance.

We march right through the gates.

The wooden portcullis groans as we pass beneath it, and I feel the weight of every gaze upon us. The guards who knew me as Gunnar’s stepdaughter now watch with hands hovering near their weapons. One of them—Baldric, who used to sneak me honey cakes when I was small—won’t even look at me directly.

Conversation buzzes low as we pass. No one meets my eye, but the whispers follow like ash trails.

“Hunter girl…”

“Gunnar’s dead…”

“…her fault…”

“…saw the dragons land…”

“…unnatural…”

I keep my head high. The unified nature I discovered at Courtsview steady within me, wolf and hunter working together to project calm confidence despite the hostility surrounding us. Harek walks beside me, hood drawn low. He doesn’t speak. Doesn’t need to. His presence alone is a comfort, solid and unwavering.

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