Chapter 13 - Battle at the Dragon’s Teeth
The Dragon’s Teeth pass was a narrow gorge flanked by towering, jagged cliffs of black stone—a natural choke point where a thousand warriors could hold off an army of ten thousand.
By noon, the northern coalition had formed a flawless defensive line.
At the front stood the elite war packs—gray, brown, black, and white wolves standing side by side, their fur bristling as they let out a unified, earth-shaking war howl that echoed off the canyon walls. Above them circled the royal shadow-wolf, its massive form casting a protective pall over the entire allied army.
Malakai’s southern legions halted at the mouth of the gorge.
The southern warlord sneered, stepping forward on horseback while holding the pulsating obsidian shard high in the air. "Fools of the frozen north! You think a petty queen and a handful of mutts can stop the true dark of the realm? Surrender the throne, or watch your entire kingdom burn to ash!"
From the center of the northern lines, Queen Ilira stepped forward.
She wasn't wearing armor. She walked with quiet, terrifying grace, the starlight mantle billowing behind her while her hands blazed with blinding, pure silver energy. Beside her walked King Aldrick, his sword drawn and gleaming with ancestral fire.
"You speak of darkness, Malakai," Ilira’s voice carried effortlessly across the entire gorge, amplified by the resonant magic of her bloodline. "You think shadows give you strength. But you forget one fundamental truth."
Ilira raised her hand. The crescent birthmark blazed like a second sun.
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"Shadows only exist because of the light."
With a swift, sweeping motion, Ilira thrust both hands forward.
