When the grant to study Welsh art and architecture abroad nearly fell into her lap, she took it without a second thought. She’d worked so hard through her childhood and teen years that she wanted to do something that she desperately loved for the rest of her life and during a school field trip, Dakota realized that meant curating art for museums. She loved the almost religious air that filled museums, the wonder and awe as she moved from collection to collection. The study abroad program was a huge step in that direction for her, a new adventure that would look beautiful on her resume. She hadn’t been thinking about what else the world had to offer, what she should have been afraid of.
Her eyes fell on the book thrown atop her backpack. She frowned. Her mother bought it for her when Dakota announced that she’d been accepted for the study program in Wales. She knew what lived in the Snowdonia territories, as did the rest of the world after the Occurrence.
Dragons.
The massive beasts that resided in Wales were masters of fire. They had born more than a few legends in Welsh myth, ones that Dakota had familiarized herself with only so that she’d have a leg up in her studies. Not because she was curious about the beasts that could take the form of humans, mostly men with violence in their eyes and tension in the muscles that could easily crush her thin frame.
The day before she boarded the plane, Dakota’s mother had gifted her with the book. Dakota had felt a lump grow in her throat as she looked at it. Dragon Men and Their Urges was written across the cover. Bea, Dakota’s mother, had opened it right to the chapter on self-defense and escape should she run into one of the dragons.
“Mom.” She’d snapped the book shut. “The school has a policy to protect the students from abroad. If a student should come across a dragon at all they’re forced to pack up and are sent on next plane home so that they aren’t in any danger. Besides, I did my research. There hasn’t been a reported dragon shifter sighting in Bangor in years. You have nothing to worry about.”
Her mother hadn’t looked convinced at all, shaking her hands with worry. Dakota assured her that it was the very last thing she wanted, reminding her mother that she would likely be spending all her time sequestered in museums and crumbling castles. That had been the thing that convinced her mother to let her go. She did know her own daughter after all. Or, at least that’s what she told herself.
Dakota wasn’t going to let anyone ruin her chance to see the world. She’d dreamed about visiting castles and rolling hills all her life, etching their lines in a moleskin journal so that she could keep them close. She’d be damned if she let anyone take this chance away from her, mother or dragon man.
Now, Dakota reached out and picked up the book that her mother had purchased and flipped it open to a random page. A sloppily drawn dragon graced the page with wings spread in clumsy flight, flanked by text that described a dragon male’s urge to find a mate. It described how the dragons often used their human forms to take human mates, despite the availability of the opposite sex in their race.
Once the author started to theorize about traditions of kidnapping and Stockholm syndrome in days past, Dakota shut the book and flipped it over. The author’s face grinned back from above the synopsis. His thick mustache made her think of Tom Selleck, but the author’s eyes were dark and serious, giving him an air of commanding authority. Below the photo was the symbol of the Order of the Guardians of Existence, better known as GOE these days.
GOE was the only force that stood between humanity and the dragons. They were briefly covered during Dakota’s global history class in high school, expanded upon in college if only barely. GOE had existed since the time of knights. Back then, they were only a few, but with time they spread across the earth. In the mid 1900’s when Dragons were forced into the light, the Guardians were the ones that stepped up to defend the humans from the beasts. Since then, the UN has worked closely with the Guardians to ensure that peace and, sometimes, justice remained between human and dragons.
A voice chimed over the communication system above Dakota’s head. Through crackling static, the voice claimed that they were preparing for descent. Dakota’s stomach lurched in excitement for the drop in altitude. The clouds parted outside her window and a foreign city appeared. She couldn’t stop the silly smile that crossed her face as she looked outside the window.
The plane lurched and jumped, finally touching ground. Soon, she would be taking her first step in another country, a whole new world. She had gone from a girl with nothing to finally being able to see her dream on the horizon.
***
After the short bus ride to Bangor University, all the study abroad students had been herded into an introductory seminar. Dakota chose a seat toward the back and flipped open her black, moleskin journal. The pencil fit between her fingers like it belonged there. She studied the profile of a guy a few rows ahead of her. His fair hair launched like a wave over his forehead and his nose sloped up to meet it at the very tip. The pencil scratched those striking lines into her journal while she waited for the seminar to begin.
She had not been expecting to see a familiar face walk across the stage. The man with the thick mustache on the book her mother had given her strode out before the assembled students. A close-lipped smile was pasted on his lips, but his eyes were still dark. His gaze swept over the crowd. Dakota thought that his gaze had lingered on her a little too long. She shook her head. There was no reason for something like that. She was simply exhausted from her flight. It was so much earlier here than it was back home.
Professors that Dakota recognized from the website followed the man out onto the stage. A man wearing a tweed vest stood back with his hands in his pockets, his eyes hidden behind the glare on his narrow glasses. A woman followed them out. Her gray streaked hair was tied back into a braid that flowed over her shoulder. Perhaps it was the distance between them, but the woman appeared too young to have graying hair already. She lowered herself into a folding chair and glared at the back of the Guardian’s head as if it was personal.
Before Dakota could wonder what the Guardian had done to piss her off, the man launched into his speech.
“Welcome to the University at Bangor!” His voice boomed through the room, his hands thrown into the air to encompass them all. “While we know that you all came here to devote your time to your studies, there are other things that we must address today.
“As many of you know, Bangor is dangerously close to the territory of Snowdonia, the home of the Welsh Dragons. These dragons have a long history with the people of Wales and might see themselves as their protectors, but they are still predators. No matter how glamourous you think they are, keep in mind that if provoked, they can kill you with very little effort.
“We advise all women travelling this semester to remain within the city limits, if not on Campus altogether. Dragons have always had a desire to steal young women away from their lives and keep them for their own as if they were property.”
Dakota heard the words that the man was speaking, but her eyes were drawn to the woman behind him. Clearly under the impression that no one was watching her, she mocked him by dramatically mouthing his words every now and then with her arms crossed over her chest. She stopped once she realized that one of the students was watching her. Their eyes met and the woman began to nervously chew on her lower lip.
Dakota dropped her gaze, but her pencil picked up and started to trace the lines of the professor’s face. She racked her memory to place the professor. She knew that she’d seen her face at one point in time. That was it, she was the history professor. Dakota was sure that she had at least one class with the woman during her semester. It made her wonder why she thought the man’s warnings were garbage. What did she know that no one else did?
Or, was she simply crazy? One of those women who fantasized about being taken away by the dragons. There were claims every so often that women had been kidnapped by the dragon men. Usually, those stories boiled down to grabs for attenti
on or wives that simply left their husbands in the middle of the night. Dragons didn’t kidnap women anymore, if they ever did at all.
Dakota found herself dreading her upcoming class with the female professor. She didn’t want the woman to wax poetically about dragons for hours a week when she should be teaching history.
The man in the tweed jacket stepped forward, thanked the man from the Guardians and took the podium. “This conversation is purely for legal purposes. The chances that any of you will run into one of the dragon shifters is slim to none. They have not been seen off the territories for more than two decades.”
Behind him, the woman snorted and looked away. No one paid her any attention the whole time.
“The dragons near Bangor University have not been involved in violence anywhere in or around the city. None of you have anything to worry about while you study here. Now that that is out of the way, we can move on to your studies.”
The students were introduced to the heads of the departments they’d be studying in. The head of the art department was a woman with long blond hair that fell in waves and reminded Dakota of the paintings of Aphrodite on the shell. She spoke with a soft voice and was entirely forgettable to Dakota.
It wasn’t until the woman with the gray streaked braid stood that Dakota found herself rapt. She introduced herself as Makenna Llewelyn, the head of the History department as Dakota had known.
“I know that not all of you are here to study history, but tomorrow I am hosting a trip to see some of the old castles that are still standing near the city. If that is the kind of thing that interests you then you are more than welcome to join me in my adventure.”
Dakota felt her heart leap into her throat. As much as she wanted to dislike the dragon obsessed professor, she was more than ready to leap at the chance to see some of the castles of Wales. It was the whole reason that she’d come.
“That’s really good,” someone whispered beside her.
Dakota turned to find the girl seated beside her taking in the sketch she’d drawn before the seminar began. The girl snuck a glance at the man Dakota had drawn and her face warmed when he turned to look back at them, as though they’d summoned his attention through the sketch.
“I came to learn more about art, but I’m not against studying his kind of art, too.” The girl looked him up and down.
Dakota didn’t have time for that. She had to ensure that her grades were perfect. She didn’t work this hard to have a man come along and distract her from her dream.
“Go get him,” Dakota whispered to the girl beside her.
She shook her head, blond hair bouncing around her face. “He has eyes just for you.”
Dakota snuck a glance through her too long bangs to find that he was, in fact, still looking at her. She willed him to turn around and ignore her. He was good looking and clean cut. He would have been a fine man to bring home to her parents, but starting a relationship meant putting her dream on the back burner. She wouldn’t do that for him or anyone.
“Not interested,” Dakota declared, rolling her shoulders back with more confidence than she felt. She knew that her face was warm from the man’s gaze.
“Remember that I gave you a chance when you find him on my arm,” the girl said with a wink. Dakota couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m Clary Ames. Nice to meet you.”
“Dakota Brennan,” she said in response. “Art History major. You?”
“Studio Art. Although I’m more of an abstract artist. I can’t draw still life at all.”
Dakota smiled and felt herself falling into the conversation. She hoped that her roommate was as nice as Clary was. She knew how troublesome the roommate lottery could be, remembering how her very first roommate had locked her out of their dorm once upon a time.
Once the seminar was over, they were shown to their dorms, where their luggage would be waiting for them. Dakota was led to her cheap, black luggage bag that was surrounded by a pair of duffle bags that she’d packed to the brim. Beside it sat two rather expensive looking luggage bags that were printed with watercolor flowers. She shouldn’t have been surprised to find a familiar blonde head tugging them into her room.
Clary looked up and waved excitedly. “Are those your bags?” She gestured to the black bags.
Dakota nodded. “Isn’t that the luck of the draw? Do you think they paired similar majors together?”
Clary shrugged. “All I know is that I’m pretty happy with their decision.”
“I am, too.” Dakota lugged her bags into the room. Clary had seemed nice during the seminar. If that was the kind of woman she had to live with for the next few months, she thought that she could survive.
Chapter Two
Wes let the air beneath his wings carry him through the sky. Far below, the ground became a network of shapes, most of them wobbly rectangles made by years of farming and land disputes. He’d left the tree dotted landscape of his home. There was no reason for him to be beyond the lines of the Snowdonia territory, but he wasn’t far from it he reasoned.
The towns below weren’t afraid of his shape flying overhead. They had lived near the dragons for centuries and shared stories of their encounters with their children before bed. They didn’t look up and wonder if their wives were safe or if their livestock were compromised. They knew better.
And Wes liked them for it. He liked to fly overhead and watch the people below point and stare with awe. He liked the attention, his grandfather had said once before knocking him over the head with a meaty fist.
Wes didn’t mind. His grandfather was right, in a way. Mostly, Wesley had become tired of feeling alone. He was young when it came to the years of a dragon, only a couple of years over 100. He’d been considered a child when the Occurrence happened and effectively trapped him within the borders of the Snowdonia Territory. Since then, he’d lived in the wild territory, every once in a while seeing his kin, but it left him starved.
The younger dragons were given a chance, once a month, to leave the territory. They were allowed to venture out into the towns and cities around the territory as long as they ceded to allowing the head of the family bind them with silver. The silver kept them chained to their human forms while they raved and rutted through the night. Many of them willingly gave up their forms for the night for the chance to find a mate.
Wes had tried once or twice after the binding rule had been implemented, but the silver binding had been so uncomfortable that he could barely focus the entire night. Since then, he’d given up on the nights of freedom. It wasn’t truly freedom when part of him was forced to be locked away.
His dragon shook his body as if to remind him that he wasn’t completely alone. The beast lived beside him, ever a part of him. It had been there since he was a babe.
You don’t count. We’re one in the same.
The beast wasn’t pleased with his response, his tail whipped through the air.
So, he did the only thing he could do. He visited the towns surrounding the territory from a broad distance. No one could say that he was a threat as he never dipped low enough and never let smoke trail through the sky from his muzzle like his cousin Gareth was prone to do. That was one dragon who always had some kind of fire burning beneath his skin. It made him wonder what kind of monster lurked inside of his cousin.
Wesley swooped back towards the Snowdonia Territory, knowing that his jaunt for the day was nearly over. There was work that he should be getting back to, work to busy his always moving hands. He tucked in his wings and dove toward the ground. His wings snapped back out and caught the wind once more, his body suspended in the air.
That was when his keen hearing caught the sound of a gasp. He should have kept flying on home. The sound of a gasp such as he heard surely meant a tourist and those could rarely be trusted. Still, he found himself turning toward the source of the sound. He knew better.
He really did.
The beast had other ideas as his wings shifted direction
and his body began to swoop towards the sound of the gasp like someone pulled the strings of a kite, Wesley being the kite.
A woman sat on a fallen log, her head tilted back and her lips parted as she watched his aerial acrobatics. A surge of pleasure zapped through him. He tucked in his wings and spun through the air, his tail guiding him. When his wings snapped back out and he shot upward, he could hear a faint squeak. A rumble of laughter reverberated through his body.
Gareth would have called him a show off. His father, Drystan, would have tanned his red hide if he knew that Wesley was entertaining a tourist on the edge of the territory. But, his family wasn’t there. They weren’t alone like he was. Gareth had his younger brother. His father had his mother, the human woman that was his mate.
***
Dakota watched the massive body of the red scaled dragon touch the earth in front of her. The sun rippled off the dragon’s scales, reflecting shades of yellow, orange, and intense red. Her eyes fell on the pale blue scales that ringed his taloned hands, like the blue seed of a flame. Her heart hammered in her ears, so loud she could barely hear his movement before her. His long body was lean and his wings blacked out the sun until he tucked them against his massive rib cage. His head cocked to the side before he pounced, planting his clawed feet apart and lowing his head to the ground.
Fear should have shot through her, but for a moment she thought that he looked much like a puppy trying to play. She had to swallow the smile that threatened to turn up the corners of her mouth as she looked at him. Keep a straight face, she reminded herself. The sooner he left, the happier she would be. If anyone were to figure out what was happening right then, she would lose everything she’d worked so hard to get.
What was a dragon even doing here? The Guardian and the Dean had promised that the Welsh dragons never left their territory. Did the deranged Makenna Llewellyn really take a field trip to the Snowdonia territory? Why would she do such a thing?
Cohen Page 16
