Page 172 of The Wild Prince’s Favorite (The Dragon Empire Saga #3)

It was oddly satisfying to see that many tribes, aside from the Munsa, had answered the call to battle, even if they seemed late.

Perhaps they had hesitated, waiting to see which way the fight would turn, or maybe they had been frightened by the dragons.

But now, they were fully committed to the war.

They were small groups, appearing throughout the cliffs on this or that mountain, but they were fiercely defending themselves against the enemy tribes.

Unlike their foes, their allies did not fear his dragon as much, allowing them to fight openly in the heights, exposed to the relentless rain and wind, while many of their opponents tried to hide whenever they heard a growl or a flap of wings.

Kassein wasn’t sure how Alezya had managed to distinguish friend from foe in the chaos, but one thing was clear: she had done most of the work in the heights already.

“Kassein!”

He turned to his sister, but she was looking up, and for the first time, she looked worried.

He turned his head back to the skies, looking for whatever had alarmed Kiera, and it took him a while to realize what was wrong; Kein was still attacking mountains, letting out furious growls and looking more enraged than ever before, but the dragon was alone.

Alezya was gone from its back.

Kein had already spun, and he couldn’t see the dragon’s back, but Kassein kept staring, horror creeping up his spine.

He had to be wrong.

Things were so chaotic, he’d only gotten a glimpse of his dragon for a fraction of a second.

He waited, his throat tight. His heartbeat pounded so loud in his ears that he barely heard the chaos around him; the chaos in his head was much louder. His fingers curled, tightening around his sword’s hilt so hard his knuckles went white.

She has to be there, a panic-rising voice in his head kept repeating, begging, chanting internally like a prayer .

His green eyes remained fixed on his dragon’s back, willing his vision to sharpen through the thick rain, mist, and snow.

His heart was drumming furiously in his chest; he had to be wrong.

No one should have been that still on a battlefield, but he was frozen, his entire body resisting the horrible realization that was about to break over him like a crashing wave.

He could vaguely hear his men calling him, warning him, but he didn’t move.

He couldn’t. He was paralyzed by fear like he’d never experienced before, and hundreds of men lunging at him with sharp blades had nothing to do with it.

Something sharp suddenly pinched somewhere against his ribs.

Kassein barely noticed at first, and he cared even less. But he felt that nagging pinch, a bothersome tug he couldn’t shake off. For a second, he willed his eyes back down, and found the bewildered face of a man in front of him, oddly close.

His eyes dropped more. A dagger was buried in his side, hilt-deep, and a trembling hand was holding it. As soon as he saw it, the man’s hand let go as if his weapon had burned him, as if he second-guessed landing that stab. Kassein stared, feeling strangely removed from it all.

Then, his hand moved, almost by itself, slowly, grabbed the weapon, and pulled it out. He barely flinched as another wave of pain hit him sharply, and his body flexed for the split second his blood flew. The man gasped, paled some more, and stumbled back, slipping in the mud.

Kassein reversed the blade and slit his throat in a single motion without thinking much about it. He didn’t even watch the body fall, nor the shocked gazes around him; his head had already snapped back up.

His dragon was going mad against a mountain, and its back showed no rider.

A block of ice sank in Kassein’s stomach. Where was Alezya? Why had she left the safety of his dragon’s back?

Something red distorted his vision, and something deafening blocked his hearing. Alezya was gone. Alezya wasn’t safe on Kein’s back anymore, and a tidal wave of rage quietly, dangerously, rose as that realization sunk in. She was missing. She was somewhere, and he couldn’t protect her.

He didn’t know what had happened to her. What was happening to her. He had failed to protect someone. Again .

Something snapped inside him. It was a crack in the wall at first, and then, a dam burst. Alezya was gone, and with her, something that had been holding back the chaos all along.

Kassein’s green eyes turned back to a movement in front of him, and suddenly, something that wasn’t human took over. Sheer instinct, guided by fury.

The first wave of men that reached him didn’t have time to realize their mistake.

They got too close, reacted too late, and Kassein’s blade flashed like the lightning bolt above.

Two men were cut down in one movement, dead before their bodies hit the ground.

And then another one followed, and another one.

The large sword swung, slashing so fast and vicious that it looked more like a whip than a heavy blade, and no one could escape it.

Kassein let out a loud, frustrated roar of rage, his anger taking over.

He swung his sword, not worrying about allowing survivors anymore; he was far too anxious, irate, and agitated to care.

He didn’t hold back, his large blade ripping through flesh, shedding blood, and breaking bones.

It was like he had snapped, turning into a raging beast on the battlefield.

There was no more standing his ground, no more holding back.

For the first time in months, he was the Wild Prince again, blinded by his wrath, a god of war and destruction, leaving nothing in his wake.

Kassein roared against the opponents and shouted back at the thunderstorm, at his growling dragon.

He vaguely heard Kiera barking at their men to stay back and away from him while he tore deeper into enemy lines.

Kassein was ready to fight an entire army alone so long as he could find Alezya.

The last bit of reason he held onto was telling him to find her.

No matter how many he’d have to cut down in his path, he had to find her.

Alezya was lost, somewhere in this sea of rocks, snow, mud, and men, and absolutely nothing else mattered.

He let out another animalistic shout, one aimed at his dragon, letting Kein know how furious its owner was.

The dragon growled back, a ferocious warning.

There was a dangerous tension in the air, and a brewing sense of doom as a feeling of anticipation settled between them, as if they hadn’t both been busy fighting an entire army at the same time.

Suddenly, Kein’s growl thundered above them, and chaos unleashed on the battlefield; Kein was diving down as if there hadn’t been sharp peaks and jagged cliffs in its path.

The orange dragon had gone wild again, and all it cared about was fighting its owner; Kassein was aching for that fight too.

It was like their sanity had snapped the moment Alezya had disappeared.

Kassein didn’t hear his sister’s shouts nor the panicked screams around him.

All he did was glare at the incoming building of orange scales, the sharp claws aimed right at him, and readied himself for a fight.

“EKUT!”

The female shout got his attention.

Kassein whipped his head just as Kein flew above their heads with a loud growl, the force throwing him and everyone around to the ground.

The dragon didn’t touch the ground, but it hit some walls of rock around, and dozens of boulders rained on the battlefield. Thankfully, most of it hammered the enemy lines, forcing their troops to scatter in screaming, panicked chaos and disarray.

Kassein scrambled to his knees and ran back to his troops, his thoughts somewhat clear again; in his rage, he’d mistaken Ekata’s scream for Alezya’s, but it had been enough to snap him out of his rampage.

He ran toward where he’d last seen her, realizing how far ahead of his troops his frenzy had taken him.

Finally, he found Ekata and, sadly, her brother.

It was far too late by the time Kassein reached them, and Sazaran also stood nearby, looking sorry.

There was no hope; it was painfully obvious Ekut was already dead, his eyes left wide open.

He was covered in so much blood and mud it was hard to tell which injury had caused it, but if Kassein had to guess, it was the one that horribly dented his head.

Her brother’s passing had utterly defeated Ekata; she had let go of her spear and was down on her knees, cradling his body, her frame hunched over his as uncontrollable sobs shook her.

Her wails were the saddest Kassein had ever heard, barely sounding human.

She wasn’t going to fight anymore, and Sazaran and her people had taken over defending the mourning tribe leader.

Kassein found his sister’s gaze across the battlefield, all traces of joy gone; Kiera was as shocked by their ally’s death as he was, and with Kein having scared half of both armies away, the battle had subdued considerably.

Kassein resented himself for his outburst of rage, but right then, his mind was clearer than ever before; this war had to end.

He turned back toward the opposing army, and strangely, things had considerably calmed on their side of the battlefield too.

Kein’s sudden attack had terrified them all enough that they’d stopped fighting to take into account the state of their army, take in all the bodies surrounding them, and realize that they were all headed toward the inevitable unless they did something now.

Kassein could see many of them weren’t willing to resume the battle, their eyes distraught or contemplating, horrified, the accumulated bodies around them.

It had taken a woman’s scream and a dragon’s attack, but suddenly, an eerie suspense settled over the rift as both armies regarded one another, hesitant.

Many of their leaders were dead, and the men didn’t seem eager to run headfirst into the same fate.