Chapter 227: God Punched Them In The Nuts
The domino chain in Lunaris had been building towards blood all day. It finally got some.
Father versus son. One ceremonial blade.
The logic was airtight.
Steel against daddy’s jugular and daddy still choosing this exact moment to be a cunt. A son who had already burned every bridge, every hope, every last fuck he had left to give.
Therefore, the son had the upper hand. Right?
One bled. One walked.
Did Renwick get Cassian? Did Cassian get Renwick?
Yes.
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DOMINO 19: GRANDPA FORGOT THE DRAGON
LUNARIS KEEP - EAST WING - 7:25 PM
The healer lay on the stone floor for three full seconds, processing.
Then the old man’s blood went cold.
The dragon. He’d fallen asleep and forgotten to check on the dragon.
His expression was 100% ’I left the stove on’ but the stove was a person.
"Oh, dear."
He scrambled upright with the urgency of a man who had just realized his nap might have a body count.
Knees cracked. Back screamed for help. His hip popped like bubble wrap from hell.
He ran toward the east tower as fast as his ninety-year-old legs could carry him, which was more of an aggressive shuffle, but the spirit was there.
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DOMINO 20: PISSED OFF PREGNANT LUNA
LUNARIS KEEP - EAST WING - 7:27 PM
Maria stuffed herself into the alcove at emergency velocity, her back flat against the stone.
He passed within four feet and gave exactly zero shits. Locked on his target so hard the rest of reality was just cheap set dressing.
Standard behavior for him.
He looked like he was ready to murder someone.
That’s when she saw the blade. Blood on the tip. Her hand flew to her mouth.
His footsteps faded toward the east tower stairwell.
The man she loved was going to Guinevere’s tower to kill the dragon.
Maria’s hands were shaking. Her breath was coming in shallow pulls that fogged in the cold corridor air.
No.
She’d put up with enough.
Her eyes found the decorative sword display on the corridor wall three feet to her left. Crossed blades. Ceremonial. Old steel.
She grabbed the hilt of the right blade and pulled.
Everything came clattering down in a glorious clusterfuck.
Frame. Second blade. Mounting brackets. All of it. The shield spun across the floor like a drunk frisbee.
She was already running and didn’t look back. This Luna had been pushed too far in the last two days and had already decided the consequences could go fuck themselves.
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DOMINO 21: HE DIDN’T KNOCK
LUNARIS KEEP - PRINCESS’S TOWER - 7:32 PM
"Hold."
Alpha command. Full power. It hit the entire pack in the stairwell like God himself had just decided to punch them in the nuts.
Six bodies locked rigid like someone had hit the pause button.
An Alpha command that powerful was not an everyday thing. Only the strongest of Alphas could pull it off to that degree.
This man did it without yelling. Unusual. Or was it? The guards were frozen and couldn’t tell you.
The bastard who ordered it took the stairs three at a time.
First flight. Second flight. Third.
He reached the top. Kicked the door open.
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DOMINO 22: NOT IN MY KEEP
LUNARIS KEEP - SOUTH WING - 7:33 PM
The stone was cold against his back. Blood was warm against his hand.
He clamped his hand over the hole and felt the blood keep time against his fingers like a second, slightly unhinged heartbeat.
Breathing hurt. Standing hurt worse. He did it anyway because lying on the floor of his own Keep was not an option.
The corridor did a full drunk-walk tilt. The walls swapped sides like they’d had a bet. He waited for the architecture to stop fucking around, then moved, dragging a red smear across the stone like he was signing the place.
He knew exactly where the dragon was.
That bastard.
East tower.
He reached the base of the stairs. Six guards. Full armor. All were locked in a rigid Alpha command.
He grabbed one of their blades without a word.
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DOMINO 23: EVERYONE TO THE TOUR BUS
LUNARIS KEEP - EAST WING - 7:34 PM
Beta Draven was praying that the loud dragon he was forced to have drinks with three nights prior was still alive.
Truthfully, he thought that dragon died the other night and had just learned he was alive.
Now he was moving at ’I’m not running but I’m definitely not walking’ speed, steering a tour from hell to the princess’s tower.
That loud dragon had been stabbed by an infected blade and was given the medieval urgent care treatment. He also was abandoned without so much as a wellness check since the sun came up.
Draven knew exactly how bad it would be if the bastard died.
"Almost there Your Grace. The east tower, top floor," he said calmly.
The dragon behind him looked ready to commit several felonies. Same energy from the rest of the pack that traveled with him.
Someone-is-about-to-die vibes.
Seven people. One destination.
Maddox followed the Beta. Behind him was the Luminari healer, two dragons, and two mages who’d been mute since sunrise. Jaxon and Lux traded a quick look. Neither voiced the thought, but a sandwich at this exact moment sounded excellent.
Ryker: How pissed is he on a scale of one to ten?
Sterling glanced at Maddox’s back.
Sterling: Eleven. Twelve if Kael is anything less than fine.
Ryker: He was stabbed. A bit late for that.
They hit the base of the stairs.
Maddox’s pace tripled.
Beta Draven, who was still leading, found himself leading nothing because the Dragon King had just blown past him.
Six guards were stiff at attention and silent.
No one thought anything of it. In their defense, frozen guards standing at rigid attention looked identical to guards standing at rigid attention on purpose.
Maddox kicked the double doors open. The handle would have worked just fine.
What he saw on the other side was a scene that no sober adult would ever accept as real and any attempt to explain it would end with someone asking if he was high.