Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

DRAKE

D rake's heart pounded as he raced through the forest, his mind a whirlwind of memories and revelations. His investigation into his father's murder had led him to this moment, the final threads unraveling before him. The McAllister distillery loomed ahead, a grim monument to the secrets and lies that had plagued his family and his clan.

His father's suspicions and investigation into journal entries in the company's books had led him to the same conclusion as Megan, and it had cost his father his life. Drake was determined not to see it cost Megan hers. He approached the warehouse where he could sense Megan was in danger and he believed the counterfeit barrels of bourbon were being stored. He could sense the tension in the air, a palpable charge that made the hair on his arms stand on end.

Bursting into the distillery, Drake's eyes immediately locked onto Megan. She stood in a tense standoff with Victoria and Michael, the full scope of the smuggling operation laid bare. Barrels of counterfeit bourbon were stacked haphazardly around the room as were empty bottles with counterfeit labels, the evidence of their crimes glaringly obvious.

"Megan!" Drake called out, his voice a mixture of relief and desperation.

Megan glanced at him. "Drake, be careful," she warned, her gun trained on Victoria.

Victoria's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing in them. "Ah, my dear nephew. Just in time to witness the end of this little charade."

Michael O'Brien shifted nervously, his hand inching towards what Drake was sure was a concealed weapon. Before he could react, Victoria turned on him with a sudden ferocity. With a roar, her dragon's breath ignited and roasted O'Brien where he stood. His scream was cut short as the flames consumed him.

"Aunt Victoria, stop!" Drake shouted, horror and shock coursing through him.

Victoria turned her gaze to Megan—a cruel smile playing on what passed for her lips. "I can make everything right, Drake. Just trust me."

In that moment, Drake's heart ached with the weight of his decision. His aunt, the woman who had raised him, stood on one side. On the other was Megan, his fated mate, the woman who had captured his heart. But deep down, he knew there was no real choice.

Drake stepped between them, his voice firm but pleading. "It's over, Aunt Victoria. This has to end. Surrender now."

Victoria's eyes flashed with fury. "You're choosing her over your own blood?"

Before he could respond, Victoria whirled around, her tail sweeping him out of the way and sending him stumbling. Megan stood her ground, her gun unwavering.

"Don't do this, Victoria," Megan said, her voice steady despite the danger.

With a snarl, Victoria lunged. Megan fired, the shots echoing through the distillery. The bullets struck Victoria in the shoulder, not lethal but enough to bring her to her knees. Blood seeped through her scales as she glared at Megan with pure hatred.

Drake rushed to his aunt's side, trying to reason with her one last time. "Please, Aunt Victoria. It doesn't have to end like this."

But Victoria's eyes were filled with a mad determination. Realizing Drake would side with Megan, she roared and batted him aside with a powerful swing of her wing. He hit the ground hard, his vision swimming.

Victoria flapped her wings, preparing to take flight and rain fire down on Megan. There was no doubt in his mind as to what he had to do. With a roar of his own, Drake shifted and launched himself at his aunt.

Drake felt the adrenaline surge through his veins as he shifted into his dragon form, his massive wings unfolding with a powerful snap. The warehouse was a cavernous space, its high ceilings and steel beams providing an arena for the confrontation that had been inevitable since the truth came to light.

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the warehouse was silent, the air thick with tension. Then, with a roar that shook the very foundations of the building, Victoria lunged at him. Drake met her charge head-on, their bodies colliding in a thunderous clash of muscle and scale, tooth and claw.

They rose into the air, wings beating furiously as they grappled mid-flight. Drake's strength and determination were unmatched, but Victoria fought with a desperation born of knowing she was cornered. She snapped at him with razor-sharp teeth, her claws raking across his scales, but Drake was relentless.

He maneuvered skillfully, using his larger frame to overpower her. Each time Victoria tried to gain the upper hand, Drake countered with brutal efficiency. It became clear, even to Victoria, that she could not win. But still, she refused to surrender.

"Give up, Aunt Victoria!" Drake bellowed, his voice echoing through the cavernous space. "It's over!"

"Never!" she snarled back, her eyes blazing with defiance. "I will not be defeated by my own blood!"

Drake's heart ached at her words, but he knew what had to be done. With a mighty roar, he surged forward, his claws finding purchase on her throat. He squeezed, feeling the resistance give way as her strength ebbed. Victoria's struggles grew weaker, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

In a final, desperate attempt, she tried to break free, but Drake held firm. With a powerful twist, he drove her downward, their bodies hurtling towards the ground. At the last moment, he released her, watching as she plummeted.

Victoria's form shifted as she fell, her dragon body shrinking and transforming back into her human self. She hit the floor with a sickening thud, her lifeless body sprawled amidst the debris of their battle.

Drake hovered for a moment, his wings beating slowly as he stared down at the woman who had raised him. The pain of what he had done was a heavy weight on his heart, but he knew it was necessary. She had left him no choice.

He landed softly, shifting back to his human form as he approached her body. For a moment, he knelt beside her, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. The warehouse was eerily silent, the echoes of their fight still reverberating in the stillness.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "You gave me no choice."

The bitter triumph of that truth weighed heavily on his heart.

Later, as the clan worked to clean up the mess, Drake allowed Megan to make her report. He watched her from a distance, his emotions in turmoil, before turning back to his people. She had done what she had to, but the pain of losing his aunt was still raw.

MEGAN

Believing that Drake would never forgive her for what had happened, Megan quietly retreated and left the distillery. Her heart ached with the thought of leaving him, but she couldn't bear to see the hatred in his eyes.

She drove through the night to the rental cabin, arriving in the blue hours before dawn. She was surprised to find Drake sitting on the porch, a bottle of his father's favorite bourbon in hand. He looked up as she approached, his expression a mixture of sadness and relief.

"Drake, I…" she began, but he held up a hand to stop her.

"Come sit with me," he said softly.

She hesitated, then walked over and sat beside him. He poured two glasses of bourbon, handing one to her.

"To new beginnings," he said, raising his glass. "And the bittersweet triumph of the truth."

Megan clinked her glass against his, her heart swelling with hope. As they drank, the pain of the past began to fade, replaced by the promise of a future they would face together.

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