by Anya Nowlan
“As for your first question… Well, I know most dragons don’t believe in it, but you can find true love at the tournament. I didn’t come into it willingly, almost no one ever does, but it was hard to disagree with fate once I was faced with it.”
She gave her husband the gentlest look and he returned it, taking her free hand in his and squeezing it affectionately. One look at the two of them confirmed that they had a wealth of emotion and love for one another, heartfelt and true.
Despite knowing better than to be jealous, Isobel couldn’t help but feel the tiniest twinge of it. She had been hoping to be that woman, glowing with joy next to her husband. Instead, she’d found a rat of a man who was barely worthy of being considered a decent specimen of his kind. And now she’d been whisked off into a setting in which she had no say and where finding anything remotely alike happiness seemed to be a fool’s errand.
For the umpteenth time over the course of her ‘stay,’ Isobel glanced around herself, looking for a way out. It was a naïve notion, being surrounded by the dragon elite and their mates and families, but she had to keep trying. She had to get out, somehow.
I’ll figure out a way, she thought to herself as the thunder sounded so close and loud that it rattled the stands. No one but me will decide on my fate this time.
Aeon
The skies were thick with jostling, excited bodies, wings scraping against one another at times and talons scratching over backs and tails. Silently, Aeon found a spot for himself in the swirl of dragons waiting to be allowed to start the race.
He hadn’t really noticed, but he had picked a spot for himself lower than he would normally. It was not wise to stay beneath most the other dragons in a race like this, as it made one vulnerable to swooping attacks. But this was the only spot where he could consistently get a look at Isobel, seated in her throne and looking marvelous.
Like a princess should.
Stop it, Aeon reminded himself. You can’t think of her that way. It is your fault that she is here and you will make sure that she gets out of this safely. She made it clear enough already that she has no interest in anything further.
The thought brought with it far too much bitterness for Aeon to handle with dignity. He’d never thought himself as a brooding kind of man, but that was certainly how it was beginning to look.
May the best dragon win, a voice spoke in his head, carrying with it the familiar slither of Shade Grayson.
A snarl immediately rose to Aeon’s maw as he looked up, spotting the large, dusky gray dragon not far above him. While Aeon’s scales glittered with every color under the sun, if the light hit it right, Shade was completely matte, sometimes disappearing into the clouds completely.
It was the Grayson family that controlled San Francisco, for example, and many other coastal cities. Each morning, the dragons would cross over the city, bringing with them the endless fog and taking it with them just the same. They were ghostly creatures, moving with ease and spritefulness that few other dragons could claim to possess.
At the same time, they were some of the slyest dragons of all. As much as it pained Aeon to admit it, Shade would be a good adversary. At any other time, he may have welcomed the challenge. Now, with his mind muddled and his thoughts constantly returning to Isobel, he couldn’t help but think that Shade’s personal interest in the situation would not bode well for him or Isobel.
He did not respond, as suddenly, the cloud cover disappeared completely, leaving the skies thick with dragons. Countless roars sounded around him as the large, twisting bodies of the massive beasts burst into action. The rules were simple. The first dragon over the marker floating on the ocean ten miles to the south would win.
But to win, one had to actually make it there.
As soon as the start was declared, Aeon found himself dodging attacks. Dragons swooped like missiles from the skies, tucking in their wings and pounding into one or several adversaries. For the younger dragons, this was often the only challenge they could take part in, because the older, stronger dragons would wipe them out along the path. So many of them did the only reasonable thing – they attacked before being attacked themselves.
Aeon narrowly avoided a light dragon, pale and luminous ivory as they all were, coming down on him from straight above. The dragon managed to nip at Aeon’s left wing, but he tore it from between the beast’s jaws before any real damage could be done. The crimson droplets of blood that fell from his wound, along with those of the many others, dotted the ocean below them.
Already, Aeon could see the surface of the water come to life, with fish coming up to gobble up the taste of dragon blood. It was the most powerful blood in the world, after all, and the waters would teem with life for days after the dragon race.
One last look at Isobel, seeing her face twist in worry and fear, almost cost Aeon the race. Massive talons dug into his back as he had just managed to fight his way out of the thickest bundle of dragons. Ignoring the crashes and eardrum-shattering screeches of fighting groups around him, Aeon threw his body into a barreling twist, trying to shake off whoever it was that had gotten hold of him.
When he saw the matte dullness of gray scales as wings flapped out of sync with his, anger boiled hot within him.
Shade.
He let the dragon fire loose, twisting his neck and dousing the underside of Shade’s belly and neck with the flames. The beast screeched but held on, countering a moment later with fire of his own. Aeon closed his eyes, fighting both the desire to use his powers as well as protecting himself from the brunt of the damage. While dragons were mostly immune to dragonfire in their shifted forms, it could still blind and scorch them, and worsen existing wounds.
The heat of the fire died down and instead, a flash of violent pain rattled through Aeon as Shade ripped into his wing. Those sharp, powerful jaws tore at the leather and scales, trying to dislodge joints and destroy muscle.
Damn this.
With a quick change of direction, Aeon took a course for the cliffs that housed the seats. He barely had any control over their combined, massive forms, but he tried to steer as best as he could while dealing with the absolutely unimaginable pain of having a dragon try to tear him apart.
Give up, time lizard, Shade’s taunting voice sounded in Aeon’s head.
Never.
The answer was easy enough.
At the very last moment before the dragons would smash into the stands, Aeon broke upwards and to the left. He could see the gathered viewers stand, some having already begun ushering their mates and families away, and the guard dragons roam closer to stop them.
But Aeon knew exactly what he was doing.
With a roar that deafened, he turned his side so it was Shade who had his back to the cliff now. Rocks and earth hurtled off the cliff and it rumbled menacingly as the two massive bodies of the dragons scraped and tumbled as they flew up along it. Finally, Shade had to let go, the pain of the rocks ripping at his back being too much.
The moment that Aeon had his wings back, he threw his body downward again, towards the water straight down. It was only when he was almost already at the surface that he realized that he barely had any control over his damn wings. The pain had clouded his mind to the damage that had been done and it took everything he had to rip himself up and glide over the water instead of crashing into it like many others already had.
Spirits be damned, he thought, his long neck twisting so he could examine the damage done to his back.
Scarlet rips and scratches covered him and his left wing was barely carrying him at this point. He could see Isobel standing up, her hands pressed to her mouth, looking at something ahead of Aeon. He wanted to reach out to her, to tell her that it was all going to be alright, but he couldn’t quite make that promise yet.
The ocean was littered with dragons, some unconscious, some still fighting. The one that Isobel could easily recognize was Flite, long gashes running down his sides and his head bent as his massive body was settled on the ground.
It gave her no joy to see him injured, even if he was a bit of a… well, prick.
The skies were now almost empty, with a few stragglers like Aeon himself flying towards the far marker. Those who had gotten out of their scuffles unharmed mostly picked other targets, presuming that the last dragon standing could claim this victory.
What they hadn’t noticed was that Shade had looped right back on track and was now gliding over the marker, leaving a trail of blood in his wake to coat the seas. Shade was the first to cross it, Aeon second with plenty of space between the two of them to leave no question of who the victor was in this case.
And the best dragon won, Shade’s mocking voice rung in Aeon’s head like a violent headache.
Do not get used to the taste of spoilt victory, Shade, Aeon shot back as the two of them landed, tucking in their wings.
It was a small consolation that Shade looked about as ripped up as Aeon himself did. The truth was, Shade had won and Aeon was one step closer to failing a promise he had given to Isobel. That was something he could not live with.
Right then and there, dripping with blood and covered with painful wounds, Aeon made himself a promise. No longer would he be bound by honor in a group of dragons that knew nothing of the meaning of the word.
Now, he would stop at nothing and play just as damn dirty as the rest of them did. If it meant that he could give Isobel what he promised, then it was well worth the sacrifice.
Isobel
Being treated like some precious, if somewhat uninteresting pearl to be kept in a pillow of velvet hadn’t gotten any less weird as time passed.
It definitely hadn’t taken a turn for normalcy after Isobel witnessed the race. She still got chills as she thought of it. The way those powerful, almost supernatural creatures swung through the air, cutting past one another like jet airplanes, if not even faster, was breathtaking. To think that they ‘moonlighted’ as regular humans was a little too much to consciously handle, really.
Every time Isobel thought she was coming to grips with the madness around her, she was quickly proven to be wrong once again. There was no getting used to this. Not in a million years.
As had become her modus operandi, she was checking the doors and windows of the sitting room she had been shown into that evening. She’d attempted to sneak out after the first challenge, using the confusion to her advantage, but her guards were way too sharp to let that happen. It didn’t mean she was going to stop trying, though.
Her guards had brought her another dress – a slinky red one, this time – and ushered her into a lavish den in the same castle she was being kept at. With the long day of travelling and viewing the first challenge behind her, Isobel was quite done with excitement for the day, but no one seemed to care about that.
“Time to be charming again, I guess,” she muttered to herself, leaning on the windowsill of one of the huge windows.
“I don’t think you’ll have to try very hard to win me over,” a honey-smooth, wispy voice said from behind her.
Isobel turned around with a start, her heart pounding in her throat.
“Jesus Christ! You guys have to stop doing that.”
“Doing what?” Shade Grayson asked casually, strolling to the bar and picking up a glass of whiskey – poured out for him already – and a flute of champagne.
He crossed over to her and handed her the flute. Where Isobel’s fingers touched the stem, she could feel the residual heat of his body, nearly scorching as she’d remembered from last time. She took a small sip, more for show than anything else.
There was an air about Shade tonight, something far more dangerous than what she’d sensed the last time they’d met. Perhaps it was because then they had not been locked in a room together, with no one to hide behind to escape the fire of his interest.
No Aeon to hide behind, she corrected herself, immediately wishing that she hadn’t thought of that particular dragon.
“Stop sneaking up on me. I don’t know how guys as large as… well, as large as that,” she said, motioning loosely at his massive, tall and powerful form, “can move that quietly.”
There was a hint of strain to the way he moved today compared to how he had been at the ball, though. A right crimson scar ran down from his cheek and along his neck, until disappearing under the collar of his shirt. He seemed to favor one side over the other. Seeing as Isobel had witnessed his legs shaking and his head bent in pain after the challenge, with blood streaming from massive cuts, she couldn’t quite wrap her mind around how on earth he was looking that… put together only hours later.
“Dragons don’t sneak, my dear,” Shade chuckled. “They simply advance without being detected. How do you think we’ve managed to remain such a well-kept secret since the dawn of time?”
“I’m not sure I’d call the existence of dragons a secret at this point,” Isobel shrugged, finding herself taking a step back and then unceremoniously plopping down on the windowsill when Shade advanced on her another few steps.
“Wouldn’t you?” he questioned leisurely, keeping his dark gaze on her like a wolf sizing up its prey. “We’re in fairytales and myths, but did you know dragons existed in earnest? Were you not surprised when you saw the first of us?”
Isobel quieted for a moment. Again, her thoughts went to Aeon, the first dragon she had truly met. Somehow, the horror of being plucked up by one of his brethren the very next day faded in comparison to the mental images that the night she’d spent together with Aeon had given her.
Despite knowing that she should be outraged at Aeon and all the rest of his kind, Isobel couldn’t help but have a bit of a soft spot for the elusive, secretive dragon shifter.
“I was,” she admitted finally, clearing her head with too much force for her own liking.
“There you go then,” Shade offered, spreading his hands. “We do what we do because we have to.”
“And why is that? Why do you have to hide?”
To her surprise, the answer interested her far more than she cared to admit. In the back of her mind, a small voice was still remaining relentless on the topic of Aeon not being one of them.
That he really was all he said that he was and that there could be reasons against lumping him in the same pile as the rest of the weirdo billionaire shifters who got their rocks off playing bingo with someone else’s future.
You promised to stop getting wrapped up in men like that, she reminded herself, trying to steel her nerves.
“The world isn’t ready to know about dragons,” Shade said with a shrug.
“As in?”
“Well, if mankind knew that they were sharing their little green and blue earth with creatures that could wipe out cities if they wanted to, and who at the same time control most of the wealth of the planet as well… I think that would come as a rather unpleasant surprise, don’t you?”
“So you think we’re not capable of dealing with it? If that’s the status quo and been so for as long as you guys have been around-“
“Far before humans turned up, just so you know.”
“Okay, fine, let’s say it’s like that. But if it’s been that way for forever, and your mates can understand and cope, why couldn’t the rest of us?”
Shade let out a low chuckle that sounded almost like a growl, save for the fact that it was so soft and almost fading at the edges somehow. He had a truly odd voice and Isobel hadn’t quite made up her mind yet on whether or not it scared her a little. It certainly set her a bit on edge.
“You ask this from the position of a marked woman, my dear. You don’t see it, but most of humanity isn’t quite as… understanding as you can be.”
This time, he took another step closer to her, crowding her space. Isobel had nowhere to scoot to anymore. She was already sitting on the windowsill, with her back to the iron bars that covered the tiled glass. The champagne flute in her right hand kept her hands from rolling into fists.
“I think you’re not giving my kind enough credit,” she said, trying
to keep the conversation on a path that would be at least somewhat excusable as pleasant banter.
“And I think you’re giving them too much credit.”
His answer was idle and his eyes roamed her face now, like memorizing her features. He raised his free hand to her hair and tucked a strand behind her ear. Though his touch was hot, it sent a cold chill down her spine.
“I can see why Aeon is so fond of you, little one.”
“You talked to Aeon about me?” Isobel pressed out, trying to keep her breathing steady and failing at it spectacularly.
“Not in so many words. But it’s clear you mean quite a bit to him. Makes you that much better of a prize.”
“I’m no one’s prize,” Isobel growled, batting his hand away from her face and raising her chin slightly. “Not yours, not Aeon’s.”
The change was so instantaneous that Isobel nearly missed the transformation. His deep chestnut eyes turned from human to dragon in a flash, stark gold with stripes of something sinisterly dark within them and slitted pupils. Isobel sucked in a breath as he grinned at her in a toothy way. Her imagination filled in the blanks quickly, painting a picture of those fearsome jaws she’d seen rip into Aeon during the race.
Casey had given her short introductions to most of the dragons when the race started and when she told Isobel which one of them was Aeon, her heart had skipped a beat. Unknowingly, she had been watching Aeon the whole time as the dragons circled the sky, his pearlescent scales warping and twisting the light around him.
For Isobel, he had been by far the most impressive dragon in the skies that day.
Seeing him almost killed – or at least that’s how it felt to Isobel – had made her scream encouragements to him, getting lost in the fervor of the crowd. When he’d come out of it alive, she had finally allowed herself a breath. And when she realized that Shade had won the first challenge instead of Aeon, her stomach had sunk.
