Hiccup's Point of View
Her body was warm against mine.
The afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting golden rays across the grass and painting us in lazy, flickering light. The blood had dried. The fire inside had simmered to embers. And yet, the heat between us had never felt more alive.
Luna's head rested against my chest, her breath rising and falling in a steady rhythm that lulled me deeper into comfort. My arms were draped around her shoulders, fingers occasionally brushing her scales in slow, idle patterns. She made a quiet noise of satisfaction at the touch—something between a purr and a growl—and nestled closer.
It was quiet in the cove. For once, the world wasn't demanding anything from me.
No expectations.
No masks.
Just her.
I turned my head slightly, gaze drifting toward the slope that led up to my cabin. And there, stacked neatly in front of the doorway, were glints of metal and color—jewelry, weapons, scraps of gold, and gear. The raiders' belongings.
I smiled faintly.
So the others had finished.
Fen, Onyx, Sira, and Erza—they had all taken part. I'd left them the bodies, and they'd done exactly what I'd expected. Disposal... and salvage.
Efficient. Loyal. Useful.
My pack.
A strange kind of pride bubbled up in my chest—dark, but warm. I had built this from the ashes of rejection. The island called me useless. My father called me weak. The tribe sneered and spat behind my back.
But now?
Now I had a pack who obeyed no one but me.
My little pack of monsters.
I might've laughed, but I didn't get the chance. Because Luna shifted suddenly and looked up at me with a spark in her eyes. Mischievous. Curious. Then, without warning, she leaned in—and licked my lips.
I blinked, startled—but she didn't stop.
Her tongue brushed mine, a warm, deliberate motion that sent a jolt through me. I met her kiss, opening slightly, letting my tongue tangle with hers. It was wild and teasing and intimate in a way that burned deeper than claws or blood. Her growl rumbled in her throat, and I responded with a quiet, possessive hum of my own.
We stayed like that—playing, tasting, claiming.
Then we broke apart, breath mingling in the narrow space between us. Her eyes, sharp and glowing, stared into mine. Not with hunger this time, but... understanding. A depth that made it hard to breathe.
She tilted her head slightly, and for the first time since we bonded—she spoke.
Not with sound. But with thought. Direct, and unflinching.
"Why?"
I frowned slightly.
"Why what?"
Her tail brushed over my leg, slow and deliberate, as her mental voice echoed again—clearer this time.
"Why did you stay in that village for so long?"
She didn't sound angry.
If anything, she sounded... confused.
"Don't take it wrong," she added after a beat, and I could feel the warmth behind her words. "I'm glad. I'm glad you found me. That you shot me down. That you broke me free from the Queen's command. Because you're mine, and I love you for it."
Her voice was like honey over embers.
But then it turned sharp.
"Still... why waste so much time among them? You hate them. I feel it. Every time you look at them—your body screams for their blood."
I stared at her, silent.
The words cut deeper than she probably realized.
Not because she was wrong.
Because she was right.
So painfully right.
I turned my gaze upward, past the treetops, toward the smoky gray outline of the village beyond.
The answer wasn't simple.
And it wasn't clean.
Luna's Point of View
He went still.
The moment I asked the question, his whole body tensed—not with fear, not with anger, but with a weight. Like he had been waiting for someone to ask that exact thing... and now that I had, he had to answer.
His fingers tightened slightly against my side. His breath slowed.
Then he spoke—not aloud, but through our bond. His thoughts came like whispers wrapped in smoke.
"I never really believed in them," he began, his voice low and cold, barely more than a whisper. His eyes flicked to the water, the moonlight reflecting in their depths like a dying ember. "Not truly. Not even when I was a child. I saw through them—their arrogance, their lies, their stupidity. Even then, I knew they were broken."
He exhaled slowly, his breath visible in the chill night air. "But I tested them anyway. I wanted to believe, to give them a chance to prove me wrong. To prove that there was something—anything—worth saving in that pathetic village they called home."
I tilted my head slightly, my ears twitching as I listened. There was something dark in his tone, something sharp and bitter that cut through the stillness like a blade.
"I let it happen," he said, his voice hardening. "All of it. The mockery. The beatings. The endless reminders that I was nothing to them. I let them call me 'Hiccup the Useless.' I let them trip me, humiliate me, treat me like I didn't belong. Because I needed to know. I needed to see if they could rise above their ignorance, their hatred, their blind devotion to strength as they understood it."
His fists clenched, the knuckles white as his nails dug into his palms. "But they didn't. They failed. Spectacularly. The village, the teens, Stoick—they all failed. Not just as my so-called family or my people, but as human beings. They proved, time and time again, that they couldn't protect what was theirs. That they didn't even deserve it."
A low growl rumbled in my chest, my claws flexing against the earth. The idea of those weak, pathetic humans daring to harm him filled me with a fury I couldn't contain. But I held it back, letting him continue.
"I was smarter than all of them," he said, his voice rising slightly, the bitterness dripping from every word. "Smarter than the entire village put together. Even as a child, I saw the cracks in their foundations, the weaknesses they refused to acknowledge. They were so consumed by their traditions, their hatred for dragons, their blind loyalty to a man who couldn't even look his own son in the eye, that they couldn't see the truth."
He turned to me then, his green eyes blazing with an intensity that sent a shiver through me. "I let it happen, Luna. Every insult, every blow, every moment of neglect—I let it all happen because I wanted to see if they were worth it. If they could rise above their own stupidity, their own cruelty. If they could prove that living in that village, protecting it, was worth my time, my effort, my life."
His lips curled into a sharp, bitter smile. "But they weren't. They weren't worth a damn thing."
His voice dropped, growing darker, colder. "As time passed, the hate they poured into me—it changed something. Twisted something. At first, I tried to suppress it, to ignore it, to focus on the things that mattered. My inventions. My studies. My dreams of a world where humans and dragons could coexist. But their hatred... it didn't stop. It never stopped."
He exhaled sharply, his body trembling with barely-contained rage. "And one day, I stopped caring. About them. About their opinions, their approval, their love. I stopped trying to be the perfect son, the ideal Viking, the savior of Berk. I stopped pretending that anything I did could change the way they saw me. The hate they gave me—I took it. I let it consume me because it was better than feeling helpless. Better than clinging to a village that didn't deserve to be saved."
His hands unclenched, and he stared down at his palms, his voice growing softer but no less dangerous. "That's when the bloodlust started. The killing intent. The rage. I began to imagine it—tearing them apart, one by one. Showing them the monster they created. I didn't just want to survive, Luna. I wanted to destroy them. To burn Berk to the ground and leave nothing but ashes. Because that's all they deserved."
The air around him seemed to grow heavier, darker, as if his very presence was suffused with the weight of his hatred. His voice dropped to a whisper, his green eyes burning with a chilling intensity. "I trained. I fought. I hid my strength because I knew they wouldn't understand it. They'd try to twist it, use it, control it. But it wasn't theirs to control. It was mine. My power. My rage. My hate."
He turned to me fully, his expression raw and unguarded. "That's why I pushed myself, Luna. Because strength is the only thing that matters in this world. The only thing that can protect what's important. And I won't let anyone—anyone—take that from me again."
The bond between us pulsed, heavy with his emotions—hatred, rage, pain, and something deeper, something raw and unspoken. I felt it all, and it shook me to my core. He wasn't just broken; he was reforged, a weapon forged in the fires of his suffering.
"You're mine, Hiccup," I said through the bond, my voice low and fierce. "And I'm yours. We'll tear this world apart together if we have to. They won't touch you again."
He nodded, his lips curving into a small, bitter smile. "I know," he said softly. "That's why I trust you. You see me, Luna. All of me. And you don't flinch."
The air around us shifted suddenly, a strange energy washing over the cove. I lifted my head, my ears twitching as the bond flared sharply, then dimmed. "Do you feel that?" I asked, my voice tinged with unease.
Hiccup frowned, his body tensing. "Yeah. Something's—"
Before he could finish, a wave of energy crashed over us, invisible but heavy, like a tidal wave of pressure. My vision blurred, the edges darkening as a strange pull tugged at my mind. I saw Hiccup reach for me, his eyes wide with alarm, but my legs gave out beneath me.
"Luna!" His voice echoed faintly as he collapsed beside me, his hand brushing against my scales.
"Hiccup!" I tried to reach him, but my voice felt distant, as if it were being pulled away.
The world spun, the silver glow of the cove fading into darkness. My thoughts grew heavy, my body unresponsive, until finally, there was nothing.
Only silence.