The Cold Sky
Faye's breath burned in her lungs as the freezing wind lashed against her.
Talis soared upward, his massive wings cutting through the night air. Behind them, the Blood Moon Pact riders gave chase.
Too many.
She counted at least five riders, their dragons sleek and fast, built for speed and endurance. The masked rider—her new rival—was at the head of them, his Night Drake closing the distance.
They weren't just chasing her.
They were herding her.
"Damn it."
Faye clenched her jaw. She couldn't outrun them.
Not like this.
Talis was powerful, but he was built for domination, not retreat. If she let them dictate the pace, they would corner her.
She needed a different strategy.
She leaned forward, pressing her hand against Talis' scales. "We need to break their formation."
The Frost Dragon rumbled in understanding.
Then, they dove.
The sudden drop sent ice-cold air rushing past her face. The Pact riders adjusted quickly—but they had expected her to keep running.
That was their mistake.
At the last second, Faye yanked Talis into a sharp turn.
They veered left, just as the Pact riders overshot their descent.
Two of them nearly collided. A moment of hesitation.
That was all she needed.
"Talis—now."
A burst of freezing mist exploded behind them, obscuring their movements.
The Blood Moon riders cursed, their dragons struggling to adjust.
But Faye wasn't done.
She reached for her dagger—and let it fall.
It spun through the air, catching the moonlight—a perfect distraction.
One of the Pact riders flinched, tracking the glinting blade instead of her.
Mistake.
Faye and Talis vanished into the night.
The Hunt Begins
The cold air burned against Faye's skin as Talis shot into the sky, his massive wings carving through the night.
But their enemy was faster.
A deafening roar split the air—not Talis'.
The Night Drake surged after them, its sleek, obsidian form a blur against the darkness. Faster than any dragon she'd ever seen. Faster than they should be.
Faye's heart pounded.
The rider with golden eyes was right behind her, his mount's wings slicing through the wind with deadly precision.
He was closing in.
"Talis, move!"
The Frost Dragon responded instantly—rolling midair, wings folding in a tight spin that sent them plummeting into a dive.
Wind screamed past them.
Faye gritted her teeth, keeping her body low against Talis' scales as they fell—a deliberate drop meant to gain momentum.
The Night Drake followed.
A dark shadow streaking after them, unwavering.
And then—a flash of movement.
The enemy rider lashed out—a whip of black steel snapping toward Faye.
She barely dodged, feeling it cut the air an inch from her throat.
"Damn it!"
Talis snarled, his wings snapping outward—braking hard.
The Night Drake shot past them.
Faye moved instantly.
She pivoted in the saddle, drawing a dagger and hurling it.
The blade streaked through the air—aimed for the enemy rider's shoulder.
But he was ready.
A flick of his wrist, and his own blade deflected it midair.
His golden eyes locked onto hers.
"Clever bastard."
Then—he yanked on the reins, flipping his dragon in midair.
Before Faye could react, he was above her again.
Frost and Shadows
Talis snarled.
Not in warning.
Not in fear.
In rage.
Ice flared from his maw—a blinding blast of frost aimed straight for the Night Drake.
The world cracked.
A pulse of cold so violent that the very air froze.
For a moment—**a heartbeat—**it seemed like the enemy dragon would be caught.
Then—it vanished.
**No. Not vanished—**moved.
A sudden, unnatural blur of shadow.
The Night Drake slipped through the frost, untouched.
Faye's breath caught.
"That's not normal."
Dragons weren't supposed to move like that. Not through frost.
Not through Talis' frost.
Claws and Blades
The Night Drake reappeared in an instant—right beside them.
Talis roared, claws flashing—but the enemy was already attacking.
A swipe of serrated talons.
A strike aimed to tear through Talis' wing.
Faye moved without thinking.
She wrenched Talis' reins, forcing him into a sudden roll—avoiding the strike by inches.
But she wasn't done.
As they spun, she drew her sword—and slashed.
Aiming straight for the enemy rider.
Their blades met midair.
Sparks exploded.
The impact jarred through Faye's arm, but she held firm—pushing back against his strength.
For a moment, they were locked there—eye to eye, blade to blade, dragons twisting through the sky.
Then—the rider smirked.
He twisted his grip, forcing Faye's sword wide—and lashed out with his free hand.
A dagger.
Aimed for her side.
"Shit—"
Faye barely dodged, feeling the blade slice through the edge of her armor.
Pain flared—but she ignored it.
Because Talis had had enough.
**The Frost Dragon snapped forward—**his jaws clamping down on the Night Drake's wing.
The enemy dragon let out a screech of pain, its body convulsing.
And for the first time—the golden-eyed rider's smirk vanished.
Talis' fangs burned with frost.
Ice spread instantly, creeping over the enemy dragon's wing.
The Night Drake flailed—desperate to escape.
But Talis held firm.
His snarl rumbled through his chest, deep and thunderous—not just a warning.
A promise.
Faye exhaled.
"Good."
Now—they finish this.
She raised her sword, ready to strike—
And then the sky tore open.
A deafening boom—not thunder.
Something else.
Faye's blood went cold.
Because through the chaos—through the freezing air and burning wounds—
She heard something.
A second roar.
No—many.
From the storm clouds above, shadows emerged.
More dragons.
More riders.
The Blood Moon Pact had arrived.
And they weren't alone.
To Be Continued…