The Rebirth Of A Dragon

Hiccup's Point of View

The forest trembled with every impact.

Charfang smashed through trees, flames licking from his mouth like dying torches. His growl had turned ragged. His tail lashed, splitting trunks in sprays of splinters.

But he was slowing.

I wasn't.

My breath came steady. My claws gleamed wet with his blood. My demon back flexed and cracked as I rolled my shoulders, feeling the raw power in every line of muscle.

He lunged.

I pivoted.

My gauntlet claws scraped along his snout, tearing another groove into burned scales. He roared, snapping at my side. I let him.

His teeth scraped leather.

No deeper.

I didn't even flinch.

I buried my fist in his throat, feeling something crunch.

He gagged, staggering back, smoke wheezing from his maw.

I let him have a breath.

Just one.

Then I was on him again, raining blows like hammers. My claws caught his shoulder, tore muscle. He roared, wings flaring, tail whipping desperately.

Too slow.

I twisted around him, slammed an elbow into his jaw. Bone cracked again.

He choked on blood.

I laughed.

It was low. Mean.

He shivered at the sound.

And then he roared back, voice cracking. He spat flame uselessly at my feet.

Pathetic.

"I'll kill you," he snarled in broken words, hacking smoke. "Kill you all. I'll come back. I'll—"

His wings snapped open.

He pushed off the ground, breaking branches overhead, launching himself into the air.

I watched him for half a heartbeat.

Then I roared.

Not in words.

In challenge.

In claim.

And I jumped.

My legs coiled like springs, demon back flexing grotesquely with power. I cleared the ground in a single monstrous leap, claws extended.

I hit him midair.

My claws sank into his tail.

He shrieked in pain.

I didn't let go.

With one savage motion, I twisted—felt tendons tear, bone crack. Most of his tail ripped away in wet, crunching horror.

He screamed.

We fell.

We smashed through branches, hit the forest floor in an avalanche of dirt and leaves.

He thrashed.

I rolled to my feet instantly.

He tried to get up. Wings flapped desperately, unbalanced. He half-launched, half-fell back down with a crash, slamming into roots and mud.

Blood sprayed from the mangled stump of his tail.

He couldn't fly.

I exhaled slowly.

Something this cursed island taught me...

I flexed my claws, rolling my shoulders, letting the demon back ripple with murderous tension.

A downed dragon is a dead dragon.

He glared at me with wide, furious eyes, foam and blood flecking his charred lips.

I smiled.

"Not running now, are you?"

He howled, voice cracking into raw, desperate rage.

But I didn't hear words.

Just noise.

I stepped closer.

He snapped weakly at me, breath a dying flame.

Pathetic.

For a second, I tilted my head, studying him.

He had dared.

He had dared to threaten my mate.

My beloved.

My first queen.

He thought he could reduce her to something he could use.

Something to be taken.

A scream twisted in my chest, choked with hate.

And I felt it.

The last mask crumble.

No humans here.

No one to see.

I didn't have to pretend.

I whispered it.

"Fuck it."

I dropped to one knee.

And let it go.

My body rippled.

Shifted.

Grew.

Bone cracked. Flesh stretched. Armor split and fell away in pieces. My spine elongated, shoulders widening. My skin darkened into deepest black, scales snapping into place like puzzle pieces forged from night itself.

My true form.

Night Fury.

But not just any.

Me.

Bigger. Broader. Heavier in the chest and shoulders than any wild-born. My tail bristled with fins edged like razors as it swept back in a regal curve, darker than midnight.

And my paws...

I flexed them in the moonlight.

Dark scales.

But within them—constellations.

Stars.

A thousand pinpricks of cosmic light, glimmering like a fragment of the night sky itself had blessed me.

Because it had.

I was no beast.

I was Alpha.

I was blessed.

I exhaled.

The forest dimmed as my breath leaked emerald fire, cold and hungry.

Charfang's eyes went wide.

He tried to scramble back.

He roared something that was just noise now.

Begging? Threats?

I didn't care.

I answered.

Not with words.

With a roar that split the world.

A sound no human tongue could hold.

Ancient. Absolute.

It told every listening dragon one truth.

He is mine.

And I would have fun killing him.

For her.

For my mate.

For my queen.

My claws gleamed with starlight as I stalked forward, breath billowing emerald.

And Charfang finally understood.

He was not leaving these woods alive.

—————————————

Charfang's back hit a tree so hard the trunk cracked, sending splinters into the air.

He yowled, struggling to rise, wings mangled, tail a shredded stump leaking blood onto moss and roots.

I prowled forward on silent paws, each step shaking starlight from my scales. My breath leaked emerald fire, the grass charring beneath me.

He tried to roar.

It came out a wet, broken rasp.

Pathetic.

I didn't speak in words.

I growled.

Low.

Final.

His eyes rolled in terror.

And he understood.

He was done.

He pressed against the tree, chest heaving.

I watched him a moment longer, letting my green eyes burn right through him.

And then I chuffed—short and sharp.

Enough.

From behind me, the trees rustled.

Wings beat once.

And my Luna landed.

Her claws dug into the dirt, tail lashing like a scythe. Her silver markings flared as her own fury shone through.

Astrid slid off Stormfly behind her, boots hitting the forest floor with a muffled thud. She had her axe out, breathing hard, eyes locked on Charfang.

My mate.

My queen.

And my storm.

I turned my head, my voice rumbling through the clearing like thunder.

Luna.

She snapped her eyes to me.

I tilted my massive head toward the Nightmare's broken form.

Yours.

Her pupils blew wide with raw, unfiltered hunger.

She stepped forward slowly, shoulders rolling, her own breath fogging with heat.

Astrid followed her, expression dark, jaw set.

I watched them both.

I lowered my massive head just enough to speak, voice twisting with deep, predatory promise.

"He's yours to hurt," I rumbled, the words edged in lethal calm. My fangs gleamed in the moonlight. "For what he dared to say."

Luna bared her teeth, her voice vibrating with pure hate.

"For what he dared to imagine."

Astrid's lip curled, her eyes never leaving Charfang's bleeding face.

"I want him to beg," she growled, voice shaking.

Charfang shuddered at the sight of them, trying to push back against the tree that held him. His good wing trembled, torn scales peeling from his chest.

I didn't care.

I stepped back just enough to give them space, lowering myself to my haunches, tail curling like a serpent around me.

My cosmic claws scraped the earth.

I watched.

This was for them.

Luna didn't rush.

She slithered forward on all fours, tail flicking, wings half-spread in dominance.

She chuffed at him—one mocking, hateful sound.

Charfang wheezed something that might have been words.

Luna answered with a roar that rattled branches from trees.

No mercy.

She lunged, claws flashing.

Charfang screamed as her talons sank into the ruined flesh of his shoulder, twisting, raking deep. Blood splattered across roots.

She didn't stop.

Astrid circled, breathing hard, eyes cold. When Luna pulled back, claws dripping, Astrid stepped forward and buried her axe into the joint of his wing.

Charfang shrieked.

The sound was music.

Luna snapped her teeth an inch from his throat, snarling in savage satisfaction.

I watched, unblinking.

My aura pulsed with approval, emerald and black.

He dared.

He threatened what is mine.

He spoke of my queen like prey.

No one touched what was mine.

Especially not my Luna.

Especially not her.

I growled low, the sound making even the rogue dragons in the dark freeze.

This was pack justice.

This was Alpha's law.

And he would die knowing why.

Luna looked back at me once, eyes molten silver.

I flicked my tail.

Continue.

She turned back to him and roared in his face so loudly it echoed through the trees, a sound so raw it stripped the night of any illusion of peace.

Astrid raised her axe again.

Charfang tried to scream words.

We didn't let him.

We didn't want to hear them.

We just wanted him to suffer.

And I sat there, calm as the grave, watching the love of my life and my chosen storm carve slow, righteous agony into the dragon who dared defile them with his tongue.

Because mercy was for those who knew their place.

And he never would.

Not until the very end.