Luna's Point of View
Pathetic.
Absolutely pathetic.
From my perch on the cliff above the arena, I watched the so-called warriors of this village flail and scatter like frightened hatchlings. They screamed. They stumbled. Their coordination was laughable, their tactics nonexistent.
Even the blonde female—the only one who lasted more than a few breaths—was unimpressive. She had strength, yes, and she moved with a kind of practiced rhythm... but it was hollow. Predictable. She was not strong. Just... trained.
But the Nadder?
Now she was interesting.
Larger than normal. Stronger. Her movements were cleaner, faster. Every tail flick was precise, and her flames came hotter than most of her kind. A female, clearly—and like all female Nadders, she had the size advantage over males. But this one... there was something more.
She was special.
Unique.
A perfect candidate for the flock I would build. My future. My legacy.
Our legacy.
Mine and Hiccup's.
He didn't know it yet—not fully. Not entirely. But he was mine. The future Alpha beside me. A dragon in flesh, reborn in the shell of a boy.
And soon, he would be claimed.
But first... he had to win.
He had to show that Nadder, and the village, and me, that he was what I already believed him to be.
Worthy.
The gates began to rise again. The scent of steel and smoke hit the air like lightning before a storm.
And then—
Clap.
Clap.
Slow. Deliberate. Mocking.
I saw him step into the light.
Cloaked, confident, dangerous.
My mate.
The way he walked—calm and casual—ignited something in me. A pulse in my chest. A coil of heat beneath my scales. He knew they were watching, and he enjoyed it. That was what made it perfect.
A dramatic entrance, but not for attention.
It was a warning.
And when he spoke... oh, when he spoke...
I rumbled low in my throat, barely suppressing a growl of pleasure. He tore into them—those insects—without lifting a claw. Just words. Cold, brutal words that slashed deeper than any talon.
He told the blonde one to shut up. Called her better than the rest, but only barely. I liked that.
No... I loved it.
The blonde female—her. The one who dared stand closest to him. The one who looked at him like she deserved something. I didn't know her name. I didn't care to learn it.
She was a threat.
A rival.
Unworthy.
And I would kill her if she ever reached for what was mine.
But then...
He looked at the Nadder.
Everything shifted.
I saw it—how she straightened. How she sensed him.
And then she challenged him.
Perfect.
This was it. The moment.
I was ready to watch him fight. To test himself. To prove what I already knew. My claws dug into the stone beneath me as I leaned forward, eyes narrowed, body tense with anticipation.
And then—
His voice.
In my head.
I froze.
Not in fear.
In shock.
I didn't move, didn't breathe. For a single heartbeat, the world stopped turning.
His voice was clear, echoing through my skull like it belonged there. It wasn't spoken aloud. It was internal. Intimate. A whisper that slid beneath my scales and wrapped around my bones.
"She's beautiful... but she's nothing compared to Luna."
I gasped—soft, involuntary.
"Her eyes aren't as bright. Her scales not as black. Her fire not as fierce. She's just a warm-up. Luna... Luna is the one I want. The one I need."
My tail lashed once behind me, knocking a few loose stones from the edge of the cliff.
"She will be mine. No one else gets to have her. No one else deserves her. Not this village. Not another dragon. No one. She is the first I've ever truly loved—in this life or the last."
My heart stopped.
My pupils dilated. My breath caught.
Two lives?
What did that mean?
How could he—
But it didn't matter.
None of that mattered.
Not when the words he will be mine became I will be hers.
Not when his voice, that voice I craved like air, spoke of claiming me as his mate.
Not a partner.
A mate.
My claws twitched. My breathing quickened. My vision blurred for a moment, red heat clouding my senses.
He wanted me.
Not just admired.
Not just respected.
He wanted me.
As his.
As I had already decided he was mine.
The possessiveness roared through my blood like fire in dry leaves. I looked at the Nadder again, and every trace of consideration for her as a flockmate evaporated.
If she touched him, scarred him, drew his blood...
I would tear her throat out.
This fight wasn't hers anymore.
It was mine.
He is mine.
And when he wins—
When he proves himself—
I'll descend.
And I'll take what's already mine.
Mate. Alpha. Future.
Whatever he is, whoever he was in another life... it doesn't matter.
Because now?
He belongs to me.
Hiccup's Point of View
"This should be fun."
My words slipped from my lips like silk dipped in steel.
The Nadder chirped in response—a sharp, excited note that vibrated in her throat. Her claws scraped against the ground as she shifted her stance, wings twitching. She was ready.
So was I.
I turned my head slowly, scanning the crowd. The village. The insects packed shoulder-to-shoulder on their wooden perches.
All of them watching.
Waiting.
They had no idea what was coming.
"If any of you interfere," I called out, voice cutting through the arena like a blade, "I will kill you myself."
Silence.
Pure, absolute silence.
The kind only a predator can command.
I looked back at the Nadder, and my free hand rose to the clasp at my throat.
Time to shed the skin.
With a flick of my fingers, the cloak came undone. It slipped from my shoulders and caught the wind, flaring behind me like a shadow given wings.
I let it settle there—parted but not removed. A makeshift cape. Dramatic? Sure. Effective? Absolutely.
The gasps that followed were satisfying.
All around the arena, mouths hung open. Eyes widened. I could feel their shock like heat from a fire.
My torso was bare beneath the cloak—taut muscle built from years of blood and survival, every inch marked with scars. Jagged. Smooth. Faded. Fresh.
Some were clean. Most weren't.
They told stories.
Stories they had never asked to hear.
Now they couldn't look away.
I tilted my head, letting their stunned silence wash over me.
Then—slowly, calmly—I reached down and gripped the hilts of my claws.
I unsheathed them with a smooth, deliberate motion.
Click.
Click.
The sound echoed across the arena like the drawing of fangs.
The village shivered.
Even from here, I saw shoulders stiffen. Eyes dart. Whispers die in throats.
Because my voice—my real voice—rose with the weight of death behind it.
"I won't be holding back," I said, tone flat and final. "This is what you made me."
I flexed my fingers.
The claws caught the light—glinting black like obsidian laced with starlight. Elegant. Vicious. Deadly.
Beautiful.
Like the night sky before a storm.
I caught the Nadder's gaze again, and her pupils flared wide with anticipation. Her wings spread fully now. The air between us shifted.
Then she growled.
Low. Deep. A challenge.
And I...
I growled back.
The sound erupted from my chest, guttural and primal—an animal sound no human should ever be able to make.
The arena went still.
Even the wind dared not breathe.
The Nadder froze mid-step—eyes locked on mine, posture alert, heart pounding so loud I could almost hear it.
Then her growl turned to a snarl.
My smile stretched wide.
Not warm.
Not mocking.
Hungry.
Sadistic.
Alive.
I rolled my shoulders once more, the cloak fluttering behind me like a second set of wings.
The ground trembled beneath us both.
And then—
"Let's dance."
I lunged forward.
So did she.
Two predators.
Two monsters.
Charging.
And the world held its breath.