Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

CAYE

L undy Island, England

Present Day, Six Months Previous

Cayetana South leaned down, her eyes glinting with a mix of determination and something far darker. Abraham Strode, or Apophis, as he was known amongst the dragons, lay motionless at her feet, his face pale and drained of life. With a fluid, almost ethereal motion, she extended her hand, fingers elongating unnaturally. She appeared to reach into Strode’s body, her hand disappearing into his chest as if his flesh were nothing but a thin veil.

The others watched in horrified fascination as Caye's reach delved deeper, her face contorted with concentration. Moments later, she jerked back, and a flimsy, pale shadow of what had once been one of the most powerful creatures on earth was ripped from his mortal and corporeal remains. The shadow twisted and writhed in her grip, a ghostly semblance of Strode's former self, eyes wide with an unearthly terror.

Without hesitation, Caye called forth her hellhound and began to shift. With a savage growl, she clamped down on the shadowy form of Strode, tearing it apart with brutal efficiency. The death of Strode’s soul was a mix of ethereal wailing and the sickening rip of fabric. Caye tore Strode's soul into four, then five pieces, planning to allow it to dissipate and vanish into nothingness. Instead, the banshees had been summoned to take him to the Shadowlands, where he would be doomed to wander forever. The banshees retrieved their prize, and Strode was carried away, his wailing lost on the wind, leaving nothing but an eerie silence in their wake.

As they vanished, Caye shifted back to her human form, her breathing heavy but her eyes alight with a fierce triumph. She stood over Strode's lifeless body, the echo of her transformation still lingering in the air. Those who witnessed his destruction could only guess at the true nature of what they had witnessed, and what it had cost Caye to ensure Strode had been vanquished forever.

Copper Glacier, Mt. Wrangell

Wrangell-St. Elias National Park veins of coppery ice snaked through the otherwise pristine blue, casting an eerie glow that seemed to pulse with a life of its own.

Caye paused, her breath catching as she surveyed the glacier. She shook her head, trying to displace the disorientation and nausea that had plagued her all day. Legends spoke of Pyr. A dragon of immense power, whose fiery spirit was encased in the heart of the glacier itself. To free him, or even to find him, would require more than just brute strength; it would demand intelligence, cunning, and a deep understanding of the ancient magics at play.

She moved forward, each step deliberate and measured. The glacier's surface was treacherous, and one misstep could mean a fatal plunge into its icy depths or start an avalanche that would consume her. As she ventured further up, it was as if she could feel the presence of the curse, a heavy, oppressive force that pressed down on her.

Caye's resolve hardened. She was not here for power or glory; she was here to hunt. She didn’t want the dragon’s secrets or his gold, she wanted to find him, destroy him, and ensure he couldn’t be used against shifters or mankind. Hunting dragons—and the myths that surrounded them—had become something of a hobbyhorse for her. Her brothers didn’t like it; nor did those in the Shadow Sisters, but as odd as a pastime as it might seem, Caye needed something dark and dangerous to counterbalance what she faced in her day job.

The dragon's curse intrigued her, but her primary goal was to find Andreas Pyr and determine the threat he posed. As she delved deeper into the glacier, she came across strange markings etched into the ice. She wondered how they had remained. Wouldn’t the icy wind have sheared them away, or wouldn’t they have melted and frozen again? She wasn’t sure it mattered; the runes were carved in a language long forgotten; their meanings obscured by time.

Drawing on her training with the Shadow Sisters, her knowledge of ancient and dead languages and her preparation of the hunt, Caye began to decipher the runes. They spoke of a pact, a betrayal, and a binding spell that had trapped Andreas Pyr within the glacier. The dragon's power had been too great, his wrath too fierce, and so he had been imprisoned, his fiery heart encased in ice to protect the world from his fury. Sounded good to her.

She wondered if she should just leave him where he lay—frozen in time—but reminded herself that with the death of Apophis, his acolytes had begun to search for a new dragon to lead their forces of evil in a never-ending battle to conquer the world and plunge it into eternal darkness. Caye snorted at her own melodramatic musings.

Caye's breath formed small clouds as she worked, the cold seeping into her bones despite her hellhound resilience. She knew she was close. The runes led her to a cavern within the glacier, its entrance marked by a faint, pulsing light. The air grew colder still as she stepped inside, the walls shimmering with an ethereal glow.

She entered the cave, laying down her pack and retrieving a torch she’d brought with her. With the torch in one hand and one of her ice axes in another, she made her way through the tunnel-like cavern. It was eerily silent, the only sound the crunch of her boots on the icy ground. Her torch cast flickering shadows on the walls, illuminating the crystalline formations that glittered like diamonds. Deeper and deeper she went, the cold growing more intense with each step.

At the cavern's heart, she found him. Andreas Pyr, a magnificent dragon of copper scales and immense size, lay encased in a block of crystalline ice. His eyes were closed, but his presence was overwhelming. The buzzing in her head and disorientation increased with each step she took toward the frozen dragon. Caye approached cautiously, her heart pounding. She could feel the power emanating from him, a palpable force that stirred something deep within her.

The curse that held him was a complex weave of magic, and Caye knew that breaking it would not be easy. She reached out, her hand hovering over the ice, feeling the thrum of energy beneath her fingertips. The runes she had deciphered provided some clues, but she needed more information, more knowledge of the ancient magics that bound him.

As she pondered her next move, a low rumble filled the cavern. Andreas Pyr's eyes flickered open, their molten depths locking onto hers. For a moment, time stood still, the hunter and the hunted connected by a silent understanding. The dragon's gaze was intense, filled with a mix of fury and desperation.

"You seek to free me, little hunter, or claim the glory of my death?"

His voice was a deep, resonant growl that echoed through her mind. For once, Caye was shocked into silence and immobility.

She had only one thought: Now what?