Logar followed Baela's pointing finger and saw it at once: a wild dragon sprawled on a wide ledge halfway up the cliff, fast asleep. Scattered around it were the picked-clean bones of mountain goats and massive tuna.
"That has to be Grey Ghost," Logar murmured, guiding Moondancer to hover a safe distance away while he studied the creature.
Grey Ghost was pale grey-white, the youngest and most reclusive of Dragonstone's three wild dragons. It kept well away from humans. Its body was only a little larger than Moondancer's, but years of hunting alone across the Narrow Sea had given it a sleek, powerful build—long, graceful lines with none of the bulk of older beasts.
"It's sleeping. We can get closer," Baela whispered, half thrilled, half nervous. Being this close to a wild dragon—and pressed tight against Logar—was making her heart race in a way she'd never felt before.
Logar didn't notice her flushed cheeks. He gave Moondancer a gentle pat on the shoulder.
The little pale-green dragon shot him an annoyed glance but obeyed, flapping closer with obvious reluctance.
Up close, Grey Ghost looked even more striking. The fast, solitary hunter slept deeply, a few stiff sturgeon still lying beside its head—clearly a snack it had stashed for later.
"Of the three wild dragons on Dragonstone, Sheepstealer loves sheep, Grey Ghost loves fish, and the meanest one, the Cannibal…" Logar paused, voice low. "All of them still have strong wild instincts and very specific tastes. Maybe the way to win them over is with the right offering."
The idea felt right the moment it formed.
In the stories he remembered, Nettle had tamed Sheepstealer by bringing it a fresh sheep every single day. The bastards who died screaming in the pit probably never brought the right gift—they just became the meal.
Logar nodded to himself. Worth testing.
Aaaaang—!
A thunderous dragon roar exploded from the direction of the crater, ancient and primal, shaking the clouds apart and rolling across the cliffs like an earthquake.
Grey Ghost snapped awake instantly, wings snapping tight to its body, eyes wide with alarm.
Logar and Baela both jerked, hearts slamming. They looked up together.
From the volcanic peak came a monstrous black shape, wings spread so wide they blotted out the sun. It looked like a living storm cloud rolling toward them, massive enough to swallow the sky.
Moondancer froze beneath them, wings stuttering in panic. On the ledge, Grey Ghost curled into a tight ball and hissed.
Both smaller dragons were terrified, as if they'd just met their natural predator.
"It's the Cannibal…" Baela whispered, voice trembling as she pressed harder into Logar's chest.
Logar's own pulse thundered in his ears.
The Cannibal swept low overhead, its body the size of a small moving fortress—ten times bigger than Moondancer or Grey Ghost.
Jet-black scales gleamed like polished obsidian in the sunlight. Its eyes were a sickly, glowing green—cold, cruel, and utterly superior, the gaze of a creature that saw every living thing as food.
Too big…
Logar stared, heart hammering so hard it hurt.
Then the fear vanished, burned away by a sudden, savage hunger.
This was a dragon.
This was the one worthy of him.
Not the shy, skinny Grey Ghost. Not the already-tamed old beasts like Vermithor. This wild, bloodthirsty, untamed king of the wild dragons was exactly what he wanted.
Vermithor was powerful, sure—but it had once belonged to someone else.
Logar wanted the biggest, meanest, most dangerous dragon that had never carried a rider.
The thought took root and blazed through him like wildfire.
He watched the Cannibal glide past, breath coming short, fingers twitching with raw need.
He knew the risk of trying to claim this monster was ten times—no, a hundred times—greater than anything else on the island.
But every step he'd taken—from nameless sellsword to Lord of the Stepstones—had been a gamble. Why stop now?
The Cannibal paid the two riders and their small dragon no more attention than it would a pair of insects, then vanished toward the crater.
Only when the colossal shadow was gone did Baela dare to breathe again. She clutched Logar's arm, still shaking. "That thing is terrifying… worse than Vhagar. Even scarier."
Her mother Laena's old mount Vhagar was the largest living dragon, but age had made the great she-dragon slow and heavy.
The Cannibal was pure wild fury—every muscle, every scale, every spike screaming raw violence.
"I heard it attacks other wild dragons, eats their corpses… even sneaks into nests to steal and devour eggs," Baela added, voice tight. "We should stay as far away from it as possible."
She meant it as a warning.
Logar heard something else entirely.
Eats other dragons… corpses… eggs…
Of course.
The Cannibal ate dragons.
Normal livestock would be an insult. If he wanted to catch its interest, the gift had to be something only another dragon could provide.
Nettle had used sheep for Sheepstealer.
He would use an entire dragon for the Cannibal.
Logar turned slowly and stared at Grey Ghost, still crouched warily on its ledge, hiding from the greater predator.
He licked his suddenly dry lips, voice low and calm.
"Baela… what if I killed a dragon and offered it to the Cannibal as a gift? Think that could work?"
Baela whipped her head around, eyes huge. Her voice cracked.
"Are you insane?!"
"Everyone who's ever gone near the Cannibal has died! Not even bones left!"
She gripped his arm so hard her nails dug in. "Grey Ghost is already hard enough! If you can tame it, that's plenty—it's still bigger than Moondancer!"
Logar only smiled, the calm, battle-hardened smile of a man who'd walked through fire and blood more times than he could count.
From nothing to lord, every step had been a gamble.
Now the fiercest, wildest, most powerful riderless dragon in all of Westeros was right here in front of him.
Why settle for second best?
"It's getting late. Let's head back."
He didn't explain further. He simply tightened his arm around Baela's waist and gave the reins a gentle tug.
Moondancer, still shaken, flapped upward.
Logar took one last look at Grey Ghost's ledge, then toward the crater where the Cannibal had vanished.
Prey. Target.
Both locked firmly in his mind.
He already knew exactly what to do next.
Hunt Grey Ghost.
Offer it to the Cannibal.
Use one dragon to claim another.