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"Faster! Fly faster!"
Prince Aemon Targaryen leaned forward in the saddle, shouting at Caraxes even though he knew the dragon couldn't understand the words.
Moments earlier, while dealing with paperwork inside the castle, he had heard the distant, furious roars echoing across Dragonstone. At first he hadn't thought much of it, but then came a second set of roars—sharper, filled with killing intent.
One of them had sounded unmistakably like Bahamut.
The moment he realized Gaemon might be facing the Cannibal, Aemon had bolted for the Dragonpit. He knew Bahamut was still far smaller than most of the wild dragons on the island, and the Cannibal was the most notorious and vicious of them all.
"Seven hells, please don't let anything happen to him…"
Even pushing Caraxes to his limit, by the time they burst out of the Dragonpit the roaring had already died down.
Baelon and Vhagar followed close behind. Both brothers had reached the same terrifying conclusion and taken to the sky without hesitation. Facing an adult wild dragon was no joke—one mistake could end in disaster.
But when they finally arrived over the volcano, the scene that greeted them was nothing like what they had imagined.
The first thing they saw was the Cannibal lying motionless on the ground, barely breathing. Gaemon and Bahamut stood nearby, completely untouched, looking as relaxed as if they had just arrived themselves.
Aemon and Baelon exchanged stunned glances before guiding their dragons down.
THUD!
THUD!
Two heavy impacts shook the slope as Caraxes and Vhagar landed on either side of Bahamut.
From Caraxes's back, Aemon shouted, "Gaemon! What in the Seven Hells happened here?!"
Gaemon turned his head and answered calmly, "Nothing much. He ambushed me, so I fought back and beat him."
Both brothers stared at him in disbelief.
Beat him?
This was an adult wild dragon—the Cannibal, the most feared beast on Dragonstone. And Gaemon made it sound like he had simply swatted a fly.
Baelon's eyes suddenly widened. "Wait… why does the Cannibal look so… thin? When I last saw him he was huge and powerful. Now he looks half-starved!"
Aemon leaned forward, frowning. "He's right. The Cannibal has always been massive and strong. I even considered him as a possible mount once, back when I was choosing. How did he suddenly become this frail? Are there no more prey left on the island?"
Gaemon pressed a hand to his face and sighed in exasperation.
"Starved? Really? You two are overthinking this. Dragons can fly anywhere to hunt. Stop guessing." He paused, then added bluntly, "I did this. I used blood magic to drain part of his blood and fire essence. That's why he looks like this."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Aemon and Baelon stared at their little brother, mouths slightly open, completely stunned.
"You… drained a dragon's blood and fire?"
"You can do that to a dragon?"
As dragonriders, both men knew exactly how terrifyingly powerful an adult dragon was. Their massive bodies and armored scales made them nearly immune to ordinary weapons. Their flames were apocalyptic. Dragons were the ultimate symbol of Targaryen supremacy—the reason their family ruled the continent.
And now Gaemon was casually telling them he had sucked the life force out of one.
The realization hit them like a warhammer.
Even dragons… weren't invincible.
For the first time, the two proud dragonriders felt something they had never experienced before: a crack in their absolute confidence.
Looking at their youngest brother standing calmly beside the defeated Cannibal, Aemon and Baelon's eyes grew complicated—pride, shock, unease, and just the faintest trace of wariness all mixed together.
Their little brother had just shown them that even the mightiest dragons had a predator.
And that predator was Gaemon Targaryen.