Free Wolf Lover: Konochur (New Scotia Pack Book 2) by Victoria Danann

was reevaluating the value of those relationships. Alone with drink to help dull the pain.
    The first explosion separated the top of the tower from the rest of the structure. Since the lower part of the fortress had been targeted, it was more or less pulverized, but oddly, the section of tower, where Grenhelde had been drinking alone, remained intact. It tumbled down the opposite side of the mountain, crumbling along the way. As soon as enough of the stones had broken away, she shifted to her dragon form which was capable of taking a lot of abuse. She was able to break up the rest of the stones in transformation and fly free of the tumbling ruin, but not without injury. Before shifting she’d sustained cuts, slashes, bruises, and a sprained elbow, which hurt enough to make her whimper with each beat of her wings.
    Grenhelde’s brother had been one of those killed in the first bomb volley. There were four dragons, other than Grenhelde that survived only because they had passed out on the rock “courtyard” outside the fortress, mostly because of drunkenness, but partly because the cool night air made their reptile cores sluggish. The explosions woke them up quickly, but not fast enough to flee unscathed. Each one of the four had taken shrapnel wounds of various degrees of severity.
    When Grenhelde reached the site that had been their new home, she had planned to fly high enough to get an overview of the situation, but the sounds of pops and whistles made her change course and land behind the rubble that had been a fortress. Peeking over the rocks she watched as each of the four dragons bore down on the location from which the werewolves were launching the modern equivalent of grenade rockets.
    The dragons roared furious protests, but each in turn met humility when he was blasted and plummeted from the sky. Pop. Whistle. Thud. Pop. Whistle. Thud.
    From her secret perch, Grenhelde continued to watch the werewolves confirm the dragon shifter deaths with keen eyes that could focus from a great distance. When some of the werewolves began to climb the mountain, with apparent intent to make sure there were no survivors, she turned and flew to the far side of a great rock that rose from the sandy expanse on the back side of the mountain range. And there she began to nurse her wounds and contemplate what it meant to be the last. The last dragon.
     

CHAPTER 8
     
     
    After a three-night-long joint celebration of the werewolves’ victory, the Black Swan knights said their goodbyes and left. The Council members agreed that they would divide the weapons among them, seal them against damage from the elements, and bury them in places only known to the alphas and their seconds.
    Lunark quickly returned to normal. Children ran and played outside in the sun, while adults soaked in the joyful sounds. Likewise, sheep and bison could graze during the daytime and hunters could hunt wherever, whenever there was need.
    The New Elk Mountain tribe turned their attention to building to accommodate the expansion that reunited the tribe and made them whole again.
    Konochur continued to court Lestriv according to the model of patience his uncle insisted would bear fruit. Eventually.
    Enjoying the sight of Lily running free in the fields, he had turned to Lessie with the sexy grin she had come to look forward to. She allowed the corners of her mouth to twitch because she knew that what would come out of his mouth next would be something completely inappropriate and blush-worthy, but just as sexy as his grin.
    While the two adults were busy flirting, Lily was chasing a fuchsia colored butterfly from one wild flower to another. Conn searched Lessie’s face for confirmation that her feelings matched his, when he saw her eyes shift to something behind him. In less than a second her face froze into a mask of fright and she shrieked Lily’s name.
    All werewolves were quick, but Konochur was quicker than most. Just before he changed into his werewolf