Luna's Point of View
Hiccup was spiraling again.
And I mean spiraling.
His thoughts raced so fast through our bond it was like trying to keep up with a dragon in full dive—panic, confusion, internal screaming, and something about parallel universes and planning his own funeral. Again.
All because I told him it was okay to hug Astrid.
Gods above, it was hilarious.
I bit back my smirk, watching him try to rationalize why his terrifying, territorial, bloodthirsty queen hadn't already gutted the blonde for asking something so innocent.
His thoughts were a mess. "What happened to bloodlust? Jealousy? Murder?" he was thinking. "Where's my Luna that hisses at the mere scent of competition?!"
Oh, she was still here.
But watching him fumble over his own dread? Watching the Alpha of a growing empire of dragons panic over a hug?
It was divine.
I could barely hold back my laughter as we walked. Astrid led us toward the cliffs in silence, unaware that Hiccup had just mentally written his will.
Still, there was something else.
I turned slightly and breathed in.
The wind brushed past us gently.
And with it came that scent again.
Sweet.
Like wildflowers soaked in spring rain. Beneath the scent of ash and sweat and old leather, that distinct sweetness still lingered—soft and familiar.
Fated.
I narrowed my eyes and glanced toward Astrid.
So that wasn't just in his head.
I could smell it too.
Well... shit.
As much as I didn't want to admit it—her flushed cheeks, the way she looked at him, the nervous tension in her voice—it was cute.
Dangerously cute.
My instincts told me to be wary. To keep her away. To growl and bare my teeth.
But another part of me remembered something else.
A conversation.
One I hadn't expected to have... but one that changed how I viewed things.
It was during the night Hiccup brought in the wounded. I had been helping the others manage the chaos when one of the Prickleboggle healers approached me. The lead of the trio.
Her name?
Sunset.
Her presence had been calming—oddly gentle, for someone so powerful. Her scales shimmered in her natural form, she had scales that flowed like molten lava and amethyst eyes that could read through lies like parchment.
She was observant.
Too observant.
I remembered how she sat across from me that night near the edge of the cove's stream, watching me with a tilt to her head and the calmness of someone who had seen this all before.
And then she asked, plain as day:
"Why are you so possessive?"
The question made my claws twitch.
I turned sharply to face her—Sunset, the Prickleboggle healer with violet eyes too old for her youthful face and crimson scales like fire-dipped lava. She asked it without malice, just calm observation. The kind that made your bones itch.
We sat by the moonlit stream near the heart of the cove, away from the warmth of the hearth. The other dragons were sleeping or tending to the last of the wounded. Hiccup had gone ahead to speak with the scouts. I had stayed behind.
Big mistake.
I narrowed my eyes. "Because he's mine. And I belong to him. That's the end of it."
Sunset chuckled softly, her expression unreadable. "I used to say the same thing. So sure. So savage. Ready to rip apart any female who got too close."
I folded my arms across my chest. "And now you don't?"
"I do," she replied simply. "But I've also learned to make room... for what matters."
I glanced past her, toward the firelight where her two mates—Meadow and Coral—worked side by side, tending wounds and teasing each other like they shared one soul between three bodies.
"They're both yours?" I asked.
"And each other's," she replied. "But it didn't start that way."
She turned to face me fully now, the firelight casting warm shadows on her face. There was something quieter in her now. Reflective.
"It started with me being exactly like you."
She sat up straighter. "One night, Meadow was healing a female of our kind—another Prickleboggle. She had been badly hurt by a Timberjack during a rescue attempt. Her wing membrane had been slashed open, and her side was torn nearly to the bone."
Sunset's jaw clenched faintly.
"I came into our cave and saw her there—bleeding, breathing heavily. And my mate... my beloved... with his claws on her wounds. Holding her close. Murmuring comfort while using his fire to heal her slowly."
She inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled.
"And something inside me snapped."
I listened, silent.
"My vision blurred red. My heart pounded. All I could think was that she was trying to take him from me. That she was using her injury to get closer. I couldn't—wouldn't—let that happen."
Her voice dropped.
"I went feral."
I tensed instinctively.
"I lunged at her with everything I had. My claws extended. My teeth bared."
"But you didn't kill her?"
"No," Sunset said, eyes clouding over. "Because he stepped in."
My breath caught.
"He moved between us—shielded her."
She pointed at him where he. Stood as he looked at the side and the scar was visible on him.
"My claws missed her throat by a breath. Instead, they tore across his face."
"...His eye?"
"Almost," she whispered. "A few more inches, and he would've lost it."
I stared, stunned.
"I froze when I realized what I'd done. When I saw blood—his blood—on my claws."
She looked away then, her voice thick with emotion.
"I couldn't live with myself. I stopped eating. Refused to speak. Wouldn't let anyone near me. Not even him."
"But he forgave you?" I asked.
"He did everything he could," she said. "Told me it wasn't my fault. That he knew how strong the bond was. How instinct can become something monstrous when we're afraid."
I felt that.
In my bones.
"But I couldn't forgive myself," Sunset said.
"So what changed?" I asked, quieter now.
She gave a small smile.
"She did."
"The female?"
"Yes."
Her voice softened, almost fond.
"She came to see me one night. I thought she was there to mock me. Maybe to finish what I started."
Sunset smiled bitterly. "But she wasn't there to gloat or pity me."
"She told me she understood. That she knew what it felt like—to be possessive, scared, angry. That she hadn't been trying to take Meadow away... but that she couldn't lie and say she didn't want him."
I raised a brow.
"And then?"
"She told me she had seen me, that night in my rage. That I had been terrifying... and beautiful."
"She said that anyone who could love that hard, fight that fiercely, was someone she wanted to be with."
"She didn't want to replace me. She wanted to join me."
I blinked. "What?"
"She was greedy," Sunset admitted. "She said it plainly. She wanted both of us. And if that meant submitting to me—being second—she was willing."
"And then?" I asked, already feeling the tension build.
"She kissed me."
I paused.
"You let her?"
Sunset chuckled. "I was weak. Still hadn't eaten. And she's stronger than she looks."
"She pinned me. Sat on top of me. Leaned in—and kissed me like I was the one who needed saving."
"And I did."
I stared.
"I tried to push her off, at first. But she was gentle. Confident. And when I stopped resisting..."
"She tasted like hope."
Sunset's cheeks flushed red.
"We didn't stop there. Not that night."
"And when Meadow came back?"
She gave a wicked grin.
"He walked into a den filled with moaning and gasping."
I flushed. "And?"
"He dropped everything and joined."
She leaned closer to me.
"And I realized something important that night."
"Strong males attract others. Their scent, their spirit... it pulls. And if you want to keep them safe, sometimes the best way isn't to keep every female away..."
"It's to let in the right ones."
I didn't answer.
"Because no matter how strong you are, you can't be everywhere."
She touched my hand.
"Be the head mate. Make the rules. But don't destroy what might strengthen you."
I inhaled sharply, the scent of wildflowers and sweet fire still lingering in my memory.
"Just make sure," Sunset added with a grin, "that if you do find a female like that... you smell it first."
"The sweet scent?"
"Exactly. It means fate wants you to claim her. Together."
Then she stood.
"Talking about this made me hungry~."
She turned, whistled once—and both of her mates looked up.
She didn't say a word.
She just sauntered over, grabbed them by the hands, and dragged them off into the trees.
I didn't see them again until well past sunrise.
When I did?
Meadow looked like he'd fought an entire berserker horde.
And both women?
Smiling.
Smug.
Sated.
————-
The path ahead was narrow, winding between the trees like a half-forgotten memory.
Hiccup walked in silence, his presence radiating calm power. Astrid was just ahead of him, leading the way with determined steps. I followed behind, keeping to the shadows.
But my mind... my mind was a storm.
That flashback had been waiting—lurking beneath the surface like a sleeping beast. And now it stirred.
Sunset's voice echoed through me.
"Be the head mate. Make the rules. But don't destroy what might strengthen you."
I bit the inside of my cheek.
I loved Hiccup.
No—I worshipped him.
He was mine.
My mate.
My Alpha.
My beloved.
My everything.
And I was his queen. The only one who would ever hold that title.
But...
I glanced at him. The way he moved. The way the light of the moon rippled through his hair. The way Astrid watched him when she thought no one was looking.
He had grown so much from the child he used to be the one I saw in his memory.
And I—
I had grown too.
Stronger. Wilder. But still... afraid.
What if... one day I lost control?
What if some trivial thing—a misplaced word, a passing touch—sent me into that same red haze Sunset had once warned me about?
And what if it wasn't some rival?
What if it was Freya?
What if I hurt our hatchling?
My claws flexed at my sides.
I wouldn't let that happen.
I couldn't.
My rage... my obsession... they had to be shaped, not just feared.
I was his queen. But a queen wasn't just a title of power.
It was responsibility.
I wouldn't become something he had to protect others from.
I wouldn't let my mate look at me with fear.
I wouldn't let Freya cry because of me.
No...
If sharing him meant protecting them—all of them—then so be it.
But only if I chose.
Only if I decided who was worthy.
Who could be trusted.
And anyone else?
Anyone who thought they could take what was mine without my blessing?
They'd die screaming.
Period.
I glanced at Astrid again.
She had a good stride—strong legs, tight form, quiet confidence. She moved with precision, her braid swaying with each step. Her blade hand twitched only slightly. Nervous, but not afraid.
I tilted my head.
She really does have a nice ass.
Not that I'd admit that to her. Not yet.
But I saw the way she looked at Hiccup.
The hunger. The longing. The loyalty.
She didn't want to replace me.
She wanted to belong.
She wanted to be his.
...Maybe ours.
Sunset was right.
Some females aren't threats.
Some... are assets.
And Astrid?
She was obedient. She already bent the knee. She'd already offered her blade and her soul.
This could work.
I grinned to myself.
But we'll need to talk.
And she'll need to understand the rules.
Because while I might be willing to share...
I am still the first.
The queen.
The only one who decides who's worthy of my Alpha.
And Astrid?
She just might be the first I don't kill.