Page 47 of Lord of the Lone Wolf (Bonded Hearts #3)
Kitsuki
W ith his massive wings, Kitsuki soared through the sky, cutting through the air as he climbed higher above the battlefield.
The transformation had been instinctive, his dragon form responding to the threat before his conscious mind processed what he was witnessing.
Now, as he faced the nightmarish creatures circling above Norello Castle, a primal fear stirred within him.
Necrowings . The word echoed through him with ancient dread. They were things he had only read about in the oldest texts of the Necromancer War, a conflict that had ended centuries before his birth. The reality was far more horrifying than any description could convey.
They were profane mockeries of draconic majesty.
Each massive frame kept the shape of a dragon but stripped of all dignity in death.
Hollow eye sockets housed writhing green flames that flickered with malevolent awareness.
An orb pulsated where a heart should be, serving as proof of a soul bound to a necromancer’s will, its essence powering the abomination’s unnatural existence.
The rotted remnants of wing membranes should not have supported flight, yet the necrowings moved with fluid grace through the air, defying both physics and decency.
Their vertebrae flexed with obscene suppleness as they banked and turned, the bones clicking and grinding against each other with every movement.
A necrowing broke from the circling formation, its skull pivoting on its spine with a sickening crack as it fixed its burning gaze on Kitsuki.
It opened its jaw, unhinging it to an impossible width before releasing a sound that was not a roar but a cacophony of agonized screams, as though dozens of souls cried out through a single throat.
The creature dove toward him, bony talons extended. Kitsuki banked, his pearlescent scales gleaming in the sunlight as he evaded the attack. The necrowing’s claws passed within inches of his wing, close enough to fill his nostrils with the scent of death.
Kitsuki countered, gathering his magic to release it in a concentrated stream that struck the necrowing’s left wing. Ice formed around the tattered membrane, the sudden weight disrupting its flight path and sending it into an uncontrolled spiral.
Taking advantage of the necrowing’s vulnerability, Kitsuki plunged hard, closing the distance between them with breathtaking speed. His claws extended, silver magic gathering around his talons as he aimed for the soul in the skeletal chest.
The necrowing twisted in midair, its spine contorting in ways no living dragon could achieve. Despite its half-frozen state, it evaded Kitsuki’s strike, bony claws raking across his flank as they passed each other.
Pain flared along Kitsuki’s side where the necrowing’s talons had found gaps between his scales. The wounds began healing almost immediately, his draconic regeneration sealing the injuries, but the attack served as a stark reminder that the creatures were dangerous despite their decayed appearance.
Kitsuki wheeled around, his eyes tracking the necrowing as it regained control of its flight. The ice on its wing cracked, the necromantic magic burning through to break free of its frozen prison.
He didn’t give it the chance to recover.
Kitsuki gathered his power once more, focusing it into a tight beam of intense cold.
The concentrated ice magic struck the necrowing’s rib cage, freezing the bones around the glowing soul.
Before the necromantic energy could counteract the effect, Kitsuki slammed into the frozen skeleton, the impact shattering both ice and bone.
His claws closed around the exposed soul, silver magic flowing from his talons into the trapped essence. The orb pulsed against his grip, the green light fighting against his attempts to sever its connection to the necromantic energy. They locked in a magical struggle, neither yielding.
Then, with a sound like shattering crystal, the soul broke free. The green flame dissolved, replaced by a white radiance that rose from the broken skeleton like mist. Released from its torment, the soul ascended toward the sky before fading from view, returning at last to the Beyond Realm.
Kitsuki had no time to savor his victory. More necrowings circled above, their burning green eyes fixed on him with malevolent intent. Below, his army continued to battle against wolf shifters and skeletal lichen warriors.
A flash of orange flame caught his attention.
Jaega had engaged two necrowings, his massive form a blur of orange and black as he unleashed fire magic against the undead dragons.
Unlike Kitsuki, Jaega had faced these creatures before, during the Necromancer War centuries ago.
His attacks were precise and efficient, targeting the souls rather than wasting energy on the skeletal frames.
Kitsuki moved to assist his uncle, ice magic gathering in his throat once more.
He released it in a torrent toward the nearer of the two necrowings, the freezing beam striking its spine below the skull.
The vertebrae froze, immobilizing the creature’s head and preventing it from using its deadly breath weapon.
Jaega seized the opportunity, orange flames engulfing his claws as he drove them into the necrowing’s chest cavity.
The fire magic connected with the trapped soul, burning through the necromantic energy that bound it.
With a final, agonized scream, the soul broke free, ascending as a white light before disappearing.
The second necrowing retreated, perhaps recognizing the threat posed by the two powerful dragons working in tandem. It rejoined the others circling above the battlefield, their burning eyes watching for any sign of weakness.
Kitsuki took a moment to survey the aerial battlefield. More dragon shifters had taken to the air, their scaled forms vibrant against the sky.
A movement on the castle walls drew his attention.
A cloaked figure stood there, arms raised skyward as dark energy crackled around its bony fingers.
The figure was taller than any wolf shifter, its form obscured by flowing dark robes that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it.
Around it, a circle of wolf shifters stood guard, weapons at the ready.
Was it Ishibiya, the legendary necromancer? Only he would have been powerful enough to control the abominations. If Kitsuki could eliminate the source of the necromantic magic, perhaps all the undead would fall at once.
Before he could act on the thought, a flash of movement below caught his eye. Maseo was fighting with grim determination against a lichen warrior. The half-shifter executed a perfect strike, his sword piercing the glowing soul at the center of the skeleton’s ribs.
But Kitsuki’s moment of pride turned to horror as he noticed another skeleton approaching Maseo from behind.
Its bony hand shot out to strike a killing blow.
The protective ring should have activated, shielding Maseo from harm, but Kitsuki felt no surge of magic, no connection to the protective enchantment he had placed on the ring.
It didn’t work against necromancy .
Of course, the ring’s magic operated on principles of life and death, while necromancy existed in the space between. The protective barrier that had kept Maseo safe from conventional attacks would be useless against the undead.
Without hesitation, Kitsuki released a precise beam of ice magic that struck the lichen’s sword arm, freezing it solid mid-swing. The sudden weight pulled the skeleton off-balance, giving Maseo the moment he needed to spin around and drive his blade through the glowing soul in its chest.
Relief washed over Kitsuki as he watched the skeleton crumble to dust. But a pained roar pulled his attention back to the aerial battle.
A necrowing had one of Kitsuki’s younger dragon shifters in its bony claws, tearing at his wings as they plummeted toward the ground.
Kitsuki rushed to assist, but before he could reach them, Jaega intercepted, his orange flames engulfing the undead dragon.
The necrowing released its grip, more interested in self-preservation than in completing its attack. The young shifter stabilized his flight with damaged but functional wings. Jaega pressed his advantage, pursuing the retreating necrowing with relentless determination.
Kitsuki shifted his focus back to the cloaked figure on the castle walls. If it was indeed Ishibiya, eliminating him might be the key to ending the battle. He shot toward the castle, intent on confronting the necromancer.
As he approached, the figure raised a skeletal hand, confirming Kitsuki’s suspicions about its nature.
A pulse of dark energy erupted from its palm, not directed at Kitsuki but at the sky above.
The clouds swirled in response, forming a vortex of darkness that spawned three more necrowings, even larger than those already engaged in battle.
The necromancer then stepped back, seeming to fade into the shadows of the castle wall. By the time Kitsuki reached the spot, there was no sign of the figure, only the wolf shifter guards who now turned their weapons toward the approaching dragon.
Frustration surged through Kitsuki as he veered away from the castle. The necromancer had escaped before he could confront him. Now there were three more necrowings to contend with, each larger and more powerful than its predecessors.
The new necrowings joined the fray, their massive frames dwarfing even the largest of Kitsuki’s dragon shifters.
One engaged Jaega, locking in a brutal midair struggle that sent them spiraling through the sky.
With a ferocious show of magic, Jaega defeated the enemy with the skill that made him legendary during Tatsuki’s warlord reign and the Necromancer War.