Page 5 of Thauglor
The arrangement is practical but hollow. Three clutches of hatchlings between them, and only two to three survive each time—a harsh reminder that even the strongest bloodlines face constant threats. It’s even rarer in our dangerous world that they’ll make it to adulthood, facing everything from territorial disputes to natural disasters to simple accidents that can claim a young life in seconds.
That’s why we try for a clutch every other year, hoping that quantity might overcome the cruel mathematics of survival. No bride price, no permanent attachment—just a business arrangement that benefits both parties. If they find their true mates, they’re free to leave with my blessing. As it stands, once I have seven viable hatchlings from each of them, they’ll be released from their contract to pursue whatever destiny awaits them.
The practical arrangement shames me more than I care to admit. These gifted females deserve more than serving as broodmares for my bloodline, even if they entered the arrangement willingly. At over two hundred years old, I should have found my mate by now, should build a family based on love rather than obligation.
I land in the mountains overlooking Blackhaven and watch my people move below me like pieces on a vast chessboard. Warriors train in the courtyards, their weapons glinting in the fading light. Guards patrol the walls with alert precision. Servants tend to the countless tasks that keep a stronghold functioning. All of it runs smoothly because of the systems I’ve built, the order I’ve imposed through strength and determination.
Pride is a fickle mistress, and I feel her touch as I survey my domain. I am proud of my bloodline and the home I have made and defended against countless enemies. I’m proud of the warriors I’ve trained, the battles I’ve won, the territory I’ve claimed through blood and determination. But I am not proud that these gifted females serve only the purpose of producing heirs, reduced to their biological function rather than valued as the formidable beings they are.
That shame weighs heavy on my shoulders, a reminder that for all my strength and success, I remain incomplete. One day, the sun itself will pale compared to her—whoever she is, wherever she may be. When I find my mate, everything will change. The emptiness that gnaws at my soul will be filled; the loneliness that drives me to desperate measures will finally end.
Until then, I rule from my mountain throne, waiting with the patience of stone and the fury of fire for the day my true love enters my life and makes me whole.
Chapter Five
I’m jerkedfrom sleep by the thunderous sound of boots hammering down the hallway and frantic shouts that slice through the pre-dawn darkness like blades. The acrid smell of smoke and fear permeates the air, setting every nerve on edge. My body moves before my mind fully processes the threat, muscle memory honed by centuries of warfare taking control. I throw on my fighting leathers with violent efficiency, the familiar weight of hardened hide settling against my skin like armor. The leather still bears scars from previous battles—slash marks from enemy claws, burn marks from dragon fire, each one a reminder of conflicts survived.
I grab my twin swords from their resting place, the steel singing as it clears the scabbards. The blades feel like extensions of my own claws, perfectly balanced instruments of death that have never failed me. Before running to the main part of my chambers, I pause just long enough to catch the metallic scent of blood on the wind. Fresh blood. My people’s blood.
“What’s going on?” I demand as I burst into the central hall, my voice carrying the authority of someone accustomed to being obeyed without question.
“Shadow dragons, sire. They came out of nowhere,” one of my generals reports, his face pale with the knowledge of what we’re facing. The words hit me like a physical blow. Shadow dragons—the most treacherous and deadly of our kind, creatures who feast on life force itself and leave nothing but empty husks in their wake.
I hurry toward the surface, my boots striking stone with the rhythm of a war drum. Every second we waste in discussion is another second my people die above. “Protect the hatchlings and females!” I roar as I head out into the courtyard, knowing that if we fall, the most vulnerable will suffer first.
As soon as I clear the buildings and feel open sky above me, I shift with explosive force. My human form dissolves in a cascade of cracking bones and expanding muscle, obsidian scales rippling across my flesh like liquid night. The transformation sends power surging through my veins like molten metal, every sense sharpening to predatory focus. How dare they attack my home, my territory, my family?
I launch into the smoke-filled sky and unleash my battle cry—a roar that shakes the very foundations of the mountains and announces to every creature within miles that death has taken wing. The sound reverberates off the peaks like thunder, carrying with it the promise of retribution for this violation of my domain.
I dive after the closest shadow dragon with the fury of a falling star, my wings cutting through smoke and ash as I close the distance. The enemy is almost my equal in size, its dark scalesseeming to absorb light itself, but its hide is no match for the razor-sharp talons I’ve honed on a thousand battlefields. We collide in midair with bone-crushing force, the impact sending shockwaves through both our massive frames.
But fighting shadow dragons is never just about physical strength. Their breath weapon makes them truly dangerous—a necrotic mist that can drain the strength and life force from another dragon, leaving behind nothing but a withered husk. I’ve seen powerful warriors reduced to empty shells in seconds, their essence consumed to feed these parasites.
Banking hard to avoid a cloud of that deadly mist, I spot the evidence of their feeding frenzy scattered across my territory. Several husks of my fallen warriors lie at the edge of my domain, their once-proud forms now nothing more than desiccated remains. The sight fills me with rage so pure it threatens to burn away my tactical thinking, but I force myself to remain focused.
This has been too easy. Shadow dragons fight in large flights, not handfuls of scouts, unless they’re planning something far worse than a simple raid. The realization hits me like ice water—this was a distraction, a way to draw me away from something more important.
Without a second thought, I fly north to search for their primary force, but what I discover is far worse than any army. The three-mile stretch where I’ve carefully arranged my mating display has been utterly destroyed. Years of work, countless trophies positioned with precise care to attract a worthy mate—all of it reduced to scattered bone and rubble.
The devastation tears at something deep in my chest, a wound that goes beyond mere property damage. But worse still are the unfortunate husks of two females lying close to my destroyeddisplay, their life force snuffed out far too soon. The idea that they killed potential mates, that one of them could have possibly been my destined partner, makes my blood boil with rage so intense the air around me shimmers with heat.
The romantic part of my soul—the part that dreams of finding my other half—screams in anguish at the violation. They didn’t just attack my territory; they attacked my future, my hope, my most carefully guarded dreams.
As I head toward Klauth’s territory, my fury building with each wingbeat, I notice that several of my prized herds have been drained as well. The cattle I carefully tended to feed growing hatchlings lie scattered across the pastures like broken toys, their life essence stolen to fuel the shadow dragon's gluttony. Every dead animal represents a hatchling that might go hungry, a future warrior that might starve before reaching maturity.
Fury makes my blood boil as I pump my wings harder, heading toward my greatest ally’s territory with desperate urgency. I roar several times as I get within range; the sound echoes off the mountains to alert his people to my arrival. Each roar carries layers of meaning—distress, rage, a call for aid that no dragon can ignore.
When I reach the northern edge of his territory, where I can see his castle perched like a crown of stone and steel, I roar once more and begin circling in tight, agitated patterns. I’m far too angry to get any closer to his people, too close to losing control and potentially harming innocents in my rage.
The fury burns under my scales with each pass I make over the forest canopy, my massive form casting shadows that send ground creatures scurrying for cover. With every single flap of my wings, I curse every shadow dragon and their twistedancestors back to the dawn of time. They will pay for this violation — pay in blood and fire and screaming agony.
I roar again, this time using the ancient dragon tongue to tell Klauth what happened—my display destroyed, the herds that feed our hatchlings slaughtered, females murdered on my very doorstep. The words carry across the miles like a funeral dirge, heavy with loss and bright with the promise of vengeance.
Klauth launches from his castle with urgent force, his crimson scales catching the afternoon light like polished rubies as he takes flight toward me. Even from a distance, I can see the tension in his form, the coiled power of a predator preparing for war.
We speak in low rumbles that vibrate through our chests and resonate in the very air around us, our conversation a symphony of bass notes that lesser creatures feel in their bones. We strategize about the shadow dragons with the precision of generals planning a campaign. They are malicious and cunning creatures who rely on treachery as much as brute force, striking from the darkness and feeding on the life essence of their victims.
Yet between his towering strength and my unyielding fury, we hold significant advantages. Still, the age of their den gnaws at me like a persistent wound. If they are ancient, if their lair holds secrets and defenses accumulated over millennia, this mission may be far more dangerous than we’ve planned for.
