Chapter 27
Chance
The wind at that altitude tore across the mountainside with a violence that felt almost alive, but even that paled in comparison to the force of the battle raging in the sky above.
Chance did not think. He couldn’t afford to. He was fighting for Randi and he would not lose her. He was fighting for love.
The moment he had seen the mouth of the cave and the moment he had felt that unmistakable pull that told him she was in danger, something in him had shifted past strategy and into something far more primal and unyielding.
Determination. Not the careful, measured kind that kings were supposed to possess, but something that burned through hesitation and left only one option. He was not leaving that mountain without Randi.
His dragon surged forward beneath him and responded to that resolve as though it were a command. Its massive wings drove them upward as another burst of flame streaked past, close enough that the heat licked across his skin.
Across from him, his father moved with practiced brutality, his own dragon cutting through the air with ruthless precision. Each strike calculated and each movement was honed through years of power unchallenged.
This was not a man who hesitated or who showed mercy.
The sky itself seemed to reflect that truth. The clash between them was violent and unrelenting as claw met scale and fire met fire. The sounds from the battle echoed across the mountains like a storm that refused to break.
But Chance did not yield. His random flights over Tampa Bay served him well in flight, but his inexperience in battle showed.
Every time his focus threatened to split, every time the sheer force of Gunner’s attacks threatened to drive him back, there was one person that anchored him and pulled him forward instead of letting him fall.
Randi.
He saw her in flashes between movement and flame.
She stood near the cave with Bryn, small against the vastness of everything around them.
He was the only thing that stood between them and his father’s ruthlessness.
Sven and Jakob were on their way, but when he’d received the call of Randi and Bryn’s location, he hadn’t waited for them to gather their forces.
His father fought with control and fear with the belief that power was something to be taken and held through force alone. Chance fought with something entirely different that his father had never understood or valued. He fought with something to protect.
That difference showed itself suddenly, like a storm finally breaking after building pressure for far too long.
Gunner lunged, driving forward with a force meant to overwhelm and end the fight in a single decisive blow, but Chance met him head-on.
The impact reverberated through his bones, but Chance did not give ground or retreat. He didn’t allow himself to be pushed backward.
Instead, he pushed forward. Harder and stronger.
His wings snapped wide as they surged upward before diving sharply. He turned defense into attack in a movement so swift it left no room for recovery.
For the first time, Gunner faltered. It was small, but Chance saw the opportunity and drove into it with everything he had.
The next strike landed precisely in a way that sent Gunner spiraling off balance. His wings faltered just long enough to break the rhythm of the fight and just enough for his control to slip.
They hit the ground hard.
The stone cracked beneath the force of it. The impact sent a shockwave through the mountainside as dust and debris scattered outward in a violent burst.
For a moment, there was only the echo of it. Then nothing but stillness.
Chance shifted into his human form before the dust had even settled. He moved forward with his gaze locked on his father, who had also shifted and was already pushing himself upright. Fury burned in Gunner’s expression, but Chance also saw fear and pain.
It would have been easy to kill him.
In that moment, he had the advantage and victory was within reach. It would have been so easy to end it and to finish what had been started years ago. He could have cut down the man who had ruled through fear and pain and called it justice.
Gunner seemed to expect it and his stance shifted as he braced for the final blow.
Chance stepped closer and stopped. Randi’s words, I’m not afraid of you, echoed in his head. Would she be afraid if he turned into a killer like his father?
At that moment, Sven and Jakob arrived in dragon form. They landed nearby and shifted, but Chance held up his hand to keep them from approaching. This was a fight he needed to finish on his own.
“You lose.” His voice was steady as he glared at his father.
Gunner’s lip curled. “Then finish it.”
Chance held his gaze. “No.”
The word landed heavier than any strike could have. Confusion flickered on Gunner’s face, quickly followed by anger. “You think this is mercy? This is weakness.”
Chance took a step closer. “No,” he said quietly. “This is where it ends. Right now. You don’t get to define strength anymore,” Chance’s voice was resolute in a way that left no room for argument. “Not for me. Not for Noriveille.”
Gunner said nothing. And in that silence, something broke the cycle. Not with death, but with Chance’s choice.
Jakob took over binding Gunner in chains that would prevent him from shifting into his dragon form while Chance and Sven took off up the side of the mountain toward the cave
Chance’s lungs burned with every step as he climbed over the jagged stone. “Randi!” His voice cracked as it echoed against the cavern walls.
“Chance! We’re here.”
Relief hit him so hard his knees nearly buckled. Sven gave him a push up over the edge of the cliff
He pulled her into his arms. Tears streamed down her face. “Hey, hey, I’ve got you.” He pulled back and gently cupped her face. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine.” Her voice trembled, but her eyes searched his. “You came.”
“Always.” The word slipped out, raw and unguarded.
“Sven!”
Chance turned sharply. Across the cavern, Sven was locked in a fierce embrace with Bryne. The two of them clung to each other like they might vanish if they let go. Bryn laughed through tears, her voice echoing with relief as Sven lifted her clean off the ground.
“You’re okay,” Sven kept repeating.
Randi slapped Chance’s shoulder in mock outrage. “You know if you had come the other way, you wouldn’t have had to climb the cliff.”
“Always the critic,” he teased before he kissed her.
Heavy footsteps approached. Randi stiffened in his arms. “The guards are back.”
Sven set Bryn down slowly and pushed her behind him. Chance turned to greet the newcomers. His protective instinct snapped into place and he stepped in front of Randi.
The guards emerged in a cluster with their weapons drawn. Their eyes darted around the cavern and landed on Chance.
For a long, suspended moment, no one spoke until Chance stepped forward. “My father is no longer your king. I have taken the throne.”
A murmur rippled through the group. The guards stared at him, some in shock, others in something like fear. One of them took a half-step back.
Chance drew in a breath. “I am your king now.”
The words felt strange in his mouth, but right,
Then one guard who was older and scarred with eyes shadowed with years of loyalty to a tyrant slowly lowered to one knee. One by one, the others followed.
Chance exhaled slowly as the reality settled in. He felt Randi’s presence behind him. Across the cave, Sven stood with Bryn at his side and a huge smile across his face.
Chance glanced at the guards. “Stand,” he said, his voice quieter now. “We have a kingdom to rebuild.”
By the time they returned to the castle in Noriveille, word had already spread faster than any official announcement could contain. It was carried on voices and screens and whispers that built into something undeniable.
The people gathered and filled the streets, the courtyards, every space that could hold them.
Their faces turned toward the castle balcony as Chance stepped forward, the weight of everything settling across his shoulders but not as a burden, but as something earned.
He was no longer just the son who had returned, but the king who had claimed his place.
Randi stood just behind him, and Chance reached back and took her hand in his.
“For too long,” he began, his voice carrying across the crowd, “this kingdom has been ruled by fear and cruelty. My father ruled with the belief that power must come at the cost of compassion.”
The crowd stilled as they listened.
“That ends today,” he continued. “Because strength is not found in cruelty, and loyalty cannot be built through fear. From this moment forward, Noriveille will be a kingdom defined not by what it takes, but by what it protects.”
Randi squeezed his hand.
“Mercy is not weakness,” Chance said, his voice firm and unwavering. “It is strength.”
A collective cheer rose through the crowd. The response built slowly before rising into something undeniable.
Hope.
Randi hugged him from behind. He turned and wrapped his arms around her. “It’s done.”
“The people are lucky to have you.” She kissed him gently.
The coronation that followed was not what he had imagined as a child. It wasn’t filled with the grandeur or rigid expectation that came from generations of royalty. It was something more grounded and shaped by everything that had led him there.
And when the moment came, when Sven did the honors and brought the crown forward, Chance did something no one expected.
He stepped away and walked toward Randi.
She stood just beyond the formal line of dignitaries and province kings, her presence somehow both out of place and exactly where she was meant to be. Her eyes locked on his as he closed the distance between them.
Chance dropped to one knee. “Before I take the throne,” he started, his voice loud enough to be heard even though the words were meant for her, “there’s something more important I need to ask.”
Randi’s eyes teared up in a way that made something in his chest tighten.
“I don’t know what this looks like yet,” he continued, honest in a way he had never allowed himself to be before. “I don’t know how we make two worlds fit into one life, or what we’ll have to sacrifice to make it work.”
An almost self-conscious smile touched his lips.
“But I do know that I don’t want to do any of it without you.”
The silence that followed felt infinite.
“Randi,” he said, softer now, though no less certain, “will you marry me?”