The Rebirth Of A Dragon

(Hiccup's Point of View)

Charfang's screams had long since turned hoarse.

Now, it was just noise. Gurgling. Wet. Useless.

Blood pooled beneath him, thick and sticky, mingling with spit and acid and plasma burns that still smoked faintly. His limbs jerked in twitching spasms, barely reacting anymore. He wasn't a dragon now—just a mess of meat.

And still breathing.

Barely.

Veil stood over him, her purple scales streaked with gore. Her fangs gleamed, acid dripping from them like venom from a viper, sizzling as it hit already-burned flesh. She'd lost the rhythm. Now she was just... playing.

She giggled.

Not a laugh.

A giggle.

"You don't scream the same anymore," she hissed, tilting her head. "Isn't that funny, Alpha? He used to talk so big. Now he can't even beg properly."

I said nothing.

I stood beside her, silent and massive. My breath came slow, steady—green mist curling with each exhale. Blood stained my claws. A bit of bone clung to one.

I didn't clean it.

Charfang tried to cough.

It came out as a bubbling rattle.

Veil turned to me then, wings fluttering once before settling tightly against her back. She sighed—actually sighed—as if bored.

"Well," she murmured. "It's no longer fun."

She tapped her claw against the ground thoughtfully, then glanced back at the ruined Nightmare. "May I, Alpha?" Her tone darkened, smooth as silk over steel. "Let me keep a piece. Just one. A little token. Something... chewy."

She grinned, too many teeth showing.

"My fun."

I blinked slowly, then dipped my massive head once. "Take your prize," I rumbled.

Veil practically purred with pleasure as she flicked her claws one last time. A splash of acid hissed across Charfang's thigh. He twitched.

Then she bit down on his forearm.

One clean twist, and it snapped free.

She stepped away from him, trophy clenched between her fangs like a dog dragging a bone, and with a swish of her tail, she vanished into the shadows.

Done.

And then it was quiet.

The kind of quiet that only came when all resistance had been stripped away.

Charfang lay still.

Breathing.

But not fighting.

Not anymore.

I approached slowly. The others stayed back—my Vanguard, my dragons, my pack. They had witnessed enough. Fang's molten eyes burned quietly as he stood tall. Razorwind shifted in place, wings folding like knives. Daggermaw crouched low, one eye twitching. Thrash sat unnaturally still, only his tail flicking. Torrent's coiling form loomed from a nearby stream, unmoving.

None spoke.

They didn't need to.

I stopped before Charfang's body, towering above him, casting a long shadow across his ruin. He stirred feebly, one blood-frothed eye twitching open.

Good.

I wanted him awake.

So he'd know.

So he'd see.

My lips peeled back into a snarl as plasma gathered in my throat. A soft glow pulsed from deep inside me—sickly green, unnatural, final.

The end.

"For my queen," I whispered.

And I fired.

The emerald blast struck him point-blank in the chest. There was no scream this time—only a wet, hollow sound as his body caved in around the blast, searing a hole through scale, bone, and heart.

Smoke drifted upward.

But I wasn't done.

Not yet.

I let the fire die in my throat and exhaled once, low and sharp.

Then I began to change.

The demon back cracked and pulled inward, the scales retracting in streams of smoke and shimmer. Wings folded and vanished. My limbs compacted. My claws dulled and reshaped.

With a final hiss of breath, I stood as a man once more—bare-chested, smeared with soot and blood, hair tousled and wild.

But my eyes?

Still burned green.

I turned to Astrid, who stood silently by Stormfly's side.

I extended my hand.

"Astrid."

She looked at me, knowing.

Without a word, she reached down, gripped the handle of her axe, and walked to me. She placed the weapon in my hand.

But before letting go—

She leaned in.

And kissed me.

A short one. Firm. Fierce.

Then I turned.

Charfang was barely more than a smoldering wreck now. The plasma had done its work. But dragons were hard to kill. Too hard.

So I made sure.

With a breath, I raised Astrid's axe above my head.

And brought it down.

There was a crunch, a wet snap, and silence.

Charfang's head rolled free from his body, hitting the ground with a heavy, final thud.

That was his last breath.

I stood over the corpse of the one who had dared to threaten my Luna, my Astrid, my pack.

And I said nothing.

Because some victories don't need words.

Only fire.

Only blood.

Only the truth written in silence.

The axe still rested in my hand. Blood ran in thin streams down the haft, dripping lazily into the churned earth beneath me. Charfang's head lay several paces away—lifeless, jaw slack, eyes wide with the horror of understanding.

It was over.

I exhaled once, slow and deep.

Then I turned.

The rogues were still there—dozens of them—frozen in place, watching from the tree line. Their bodies trembled not from fear alone, but from the weight of what they'd witnessed.

Justice.

Final and absolute.

I took a step forward.

Then another.

The mud squelched beneath my bare feet.

When I reached the edge of the scorched clearing, I let my gaze sweep across them—twenty-four dragons of varying shapes and sizes. All battle-tested. All previously loyal to a tyrant.

But not anymore.

My voice cut through the clearing like a blade.

"Will you kneel?"

Silence.

Then—one by one—their heads lowered.

Bodies bowed.

Wings folded.

Every last one of them dropped to the ground, snouts brushing dirt and ash.

I didn't smile.

But I nodded once.

Just once.

And like that, I had twenty-four new dragons under my command.

A new wing of the flock.

Seventy-four dragons in total.

My army.

My family.

My war.

I turned my head slowly, eyes searching for the only two faces I needed to see.

Luna met my gaze first—her Night Fury form sleek and regal, blood still drying on her muzzle. Her silver eyes shimmered with pride.

Astrid stood beside her, leaning casually against Stormfly, arms crossed over her chest, blonde hair tousled by the breeze, cheeks flushed from the cold and... something more.

I smiled. Just a little.

"It's time to go home," I said.

They both tilted their heads.

"To finish what we started."

Luna's lips curled into a smirk. "About damn time," she purred, her voice like silk and smoke.

Astrid rolled her eyes and bumped her shoulder against Luna's. "You're only saying that because you're still mad we got interrupted."

"I am mad," Luna said without shame, tail twitching behind her. "I was this close to—"

"I remember how close," I interrupted, chuckling as I stepped between them, handing Astrid her axe back. "You nearly bit my lip off."

Astrid took the axe and raised a brow. "And you liked it."

I raised both hands, surrendering. "Didn't say I didn't."

Luna's voice dropped, lower now. "You said 'home.' So we're going straight back to the cove?"

"Yeah," I said, but then I paused.

Looked up.

The sky was still black, full of stars. Quiet. Peaceful.

But my thoughts weren't.

I could still feel the memory of Luna's weight pinning me down. The warmth of Astrid against my chest. The firelight. The way her hand had—

Don't get distracted.

Still, my voice dropped into something darker.

"Soon... the real fun begins."

Luna leaned in close to whisper, "Then let's fly faster."

I grinned.

But it didn't last long.

Because right then, I remembered something.

A presence.

A tiny, unpredictable, walking interruption.

My expression froze.

Astrid caught it instantly. "What?"

I sighed.

Groaned.

"Freya," I muttered.

Luna blinked. "What about her?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "She might be awake by now."

Luna stared at me for a beat—then laughed.

"Your face," she teased.

"I love my daughter," I said, voice dry. "I adore her. I would kill the world to protect her."

Pause.

"But, gods, can I please get five minutes where she's not screaming 'Papa!' at the exact worst moment?"

Astrid laughed now too, leaning on her axe. "She's just like you, you know."

"That's what scares me," I muttered, glaring up at the stars. "I'm raising my own karma."

Luna flicked her tail around my waist possessively. "Just wait. One day she's going to get her own Night Fury instincts and start biting your boots."

Astrid smirked. "You're assuming she hasn't already started."

I sighed again, but this time it was more amused than tired.

"I'll just wait," I said under my breath. "Wait for all of this to be over. The war. The vengeance. The drama. And then maybe, maybe, I'll finally get a night alone with the two of you."

Luna leaned in, her nose brushing my neck. "That almost sounded like a promise, Alpha."

Astrid stepped closer too, her hand sliding into mine. "Then we'll hold you to it."

I stood between them, blood-streaked, heart racing, eyes burning.

And I nodded.

"Then let's end this."