Dragon Passion: Emerald Dragons Book 1

by Amelia Jade

  At the last moment, massive wings sprouted from his back—huge, powerful membranes that instead of jutting up and out in a display of prowess, simply flopped over and dragged at his sides until he mentally took control of them and forced them to do as he commanded.

  As a final touch, a layer of frost an inch thick exploded out from his feet, covering the circle of stone, falling short a few inches from the edge.

  Asher shook his head. The process of shifting was certainly far more awkward and unimpressive than every story he had read before. But now that it was done, he stood there for a moment, knowing how resplendent he looked in the evening light. He practically glowed, scales bigger than a knight’s shield twinkling as the sun’s rays glanced off his natural armor.

  Over fifty feet from snout to tail, he was a magnificent specimen, and of that he was aware. Asher was a Frost Dragon, one of the rarer of the dragon species. Impressively armored, muscled, and with a snout full of razor-sharp teeth, he was undoubtedly one of the most lethal predators on the planet.

  Nobody would know it by what’s about to happen though.

  Asher flexed his wings, sweeping them out to the side, back, and then finally up, before he thrust them down with an incredible amount of force.

  The wind picked up some of the loose frost and it swirled around violently. Asher was oblivious, but anyone standing nearby would have been hit by a mini hail storm. His wings continued to pound at the ground, until he coiled his legs and sprung himself into the air. The membranes flexed and pushed, and he rose several feet from the ground, before touching back down. His legs moved him forward and he again tried to thrust himself up into the air. This time he rose a solid five feet before touching ground again, his feet continuing to race him toward the edge of the stone circle.

  With one last push and sweep of his wings, he launched himself into the air, beating frantically as he tried to gain height, the tips of the crops from the nearby field dragging against his claws as they hung below his body. Realizing that he was staying aloft for good now, Asher pulled his legs up tight to his body like the landing gear on one of the humans’ aircraft.

  Then suddenly he found a thermal, a plume of heat rising from the earth, and he spiraled upward with much less effort than before, reaching fifty, one hundred, then two hundred feet above the ground as his wings worked tirelessly to keep him aloft. Within several minutes he was over a thousand feet in the air and still ascending, the landscape below becoming smaller with every beat of his wings.

  It wasn’t pretty, but I can still get up here.

  The land below, from the mountains to the west, and the desert in the south or the forests to the east, was all his to explore.

  And right then, it felt far too small. Although Asher did not live with his parents and had been on his own for over a decade since he was a teenager, he still tried to visit them as often as he could stomach the idea.

  These days, that was not very often.

  Perhaps they should greet me with a “Hello,” instead of “No grandkids with you yet?” Followed by the inevitable questions about “That nice fire dragon, or that shy little frost girl. You should go talk to her.” Always in his mother’s condescending voice.

  They meant well, he knew that. But he was sick of it. Sick of their expectations, and sick of the expectations placed upon him by his own kind.

  His eyes kept flicking back to the Quicksilver mountain range to the west. Beyond them, he knew, was the large human city of Cloud Lake, a bustling metropolis of over a million people that he did not know.

  And never will. You know you aren’t allowed to leave.

  It wasn’t like he was in prison. Technically. After all, the laws were made by shifters for their own benefit. But he hadn’t been around when they were made, and so Asher felt constrained by them. The thoughts were nothing new to him; it was far from the first time they had crossed his mind, even as he banked through the air, his wings catching the currents and redirecting his motion toward the mountains.

  Maybe this time.

  Asher flexed muscles that even after all these years still felt strange to him, and the ground began to shrink once again, until even with his eyesight details became impossible to make out. Now it was just one vast carpet of trees, or grass, sand, or rocks. Distinguishing individual items from one another ended as they blurred, and still he rose. Five thousand feet. Six. The air was getting harder to breathe, and his massive lungs worked hard to power him with the oxygen he needed to expend on such a flight.

  The mountains grew as he winged closer. He couldn’t see the far side of them, but he knew Cloud Lake was there. They were Cadia’s biggest trade partner. But between them was the border.

  The sun’s light was fading from his height by the time he crossed by the first snow-capped peak, the mountain moving by to his right as he continued his attempt to see the outside world for the first time.

  The snap of wings as they were suddenly thrust out was the only warning he had.

  Asher was no aerial fighter. He did the only thing he knew, and pulled his wings in tight. He dropped like a stone, hurtling toward the ground at incredible speed. Craning his head around, he saw his pursuer flash by in a blur of red.

  Fire Dragon. Not good.

  Moments later fire singed him as the other dragon unleashed its breath.

  Asher gritted his teeth, wishing he could retaliate. But he couldn’t.

  This was a Guardian, one of the border protectors, and one of the most fearsome dragons on the planet. He stood no chance as the other dragon shadowed him down.

  Asher glanced around, looking for some inspiration as the earth rushed up to meet him.

  There!

  He looked over his shoulder once more, seeing the blazing silver eyes of his pursuer as he closed the gap.

  Now all he had to do was shake him off his back for a second, and his plan might actually work. Without warning Asher stuck one wing out, pulling himself to the side, and then he flashed the second out. Despite the scream of pain that shot through him, he began to pump his muscles, arresting his fall. Moments later he was gaining ground on his pursuer.

  That was the easy part. Now all he had to do was dive beneath the giant Vallenwood trees over the river, and lose his pursuer amongst their oversized boughs. Closing his eyes in pain, he banked sharply and dropped again, aiming for what looked like a possible hole through the trees. The magnificent species rose more than two hundred feet in the air, an offshoot of the great red oaks that used to grow along the western coast. These had been carefully tended to by the shifters for ages.

  Behind him there was a roar of anger. Irritating one of the Guardians was not ideal, but he had no choice if he was to elude him. Bracing himself, Asher once more folded his wings in and dropped through the upper canopy of the trees.

  Small branches, twigs, and leaves scratched against his sides, but he barely felt it through his tough scales.

  Something big slammed into his midsection and flipped him over. Stunned, Asher fell the final hundred and fifty feet to the ground, where he landed in the water, a massive splash erupting and soaking the ground on either side of him.

  His stomach felt like it was on fire as pain lanced up through his body. Looking up, trying to push aside the stars, he saw the massive limb of one of the trees sticking across the river. It was the only one for fifty feet on either side, and he’d had the bad luck to run into it.

  Above, there was a much more controlled crashing, and the big red dragon emerged from the tree cover and descended. She landed on the shore a short way away, her massive talons digging deep into the loam on the banks of the river. It was only now, as things slowed down, that Asher realized it was, in fact, a she.

  “What are you doing here, Initiate?” she said, her snout contorting to form the words, though there was a distinct sibilant hiss to them. Not as bad as snakes, but it was there.

  He didn’t respond. To call him an Initiate was a low insult indeed. It implied he was no more t
han a fledgling, just out of the nest.

  “I am no Initiate,” he ground out after a moment as the Guardian looked on, awaiting his response.

  Her eyes blinked rapidly as she laughed, a deep-throated sound that boomed out under the colossal trees.

  “Then why do you behave like one?”

  He glared at her, but this time he didn’t respond at all, waiting her out.

  “Go back to Cadia, Asher,” the Guardian said, though this time there was no malice in her voice, just a simple command. “And next time you try such an advanced maneuver, think it all the way through. Dropping below the Vallenwoods, while bold, is far more likely to result in this than a successful escape.”

  He frowned, the eyes on his face becoming lidded. He gathered himself and spread his wings, letting them buoy him up in the water, the current beginning to carry him back toward town. The tendons that powered his wings ached with a terrible pain, and he knew it would be several hours before flying no longer hurt.

  The Guardian watched him go, and Asher couldn’t help but shake the feeling that she was watching him, evaluating him in some way. It was an unsettling feeling. When he floated around a turn in the river, he breathed a vast sigh of relief as the Guardian launched herself back into the air.

  The relief became envy as he realized she had only needed one push of her legs, and no running start either.

  One day he would be that good, he promised himself.

  One day.

  ***

  He landed on one of the stone circles surrounding town, and in a flash of frosty air and ice underfoot resumed his human form. The sun was beating down, and it quickly melted the residue from his arrival, but not before the next dragon descended, landing on the platform.

  Asher jogged out of the way, wondering why the hell someone would be following him so closely. There was a flash of yellow-green gas and the green dragon disappeared, replaced by a tall human male sporting a neatly trimmed goatee and shortly cropped hair. Piercing green eyes looked straight at him as the other man walked by.

  “Couldn’t wait the ten seconds for me to walk out of the way?” Asher said with a glare. “There are plenty of other landing circles around, you know.”

  The other man, a dragon shifter whom Asher did not know, walked right up to him.

  “Are you Asher Owens?”

  “Who wants to know?” he said, standing up just a little straighter. He did not want to fight this man. The stance of his legs and the ease with which he had descended and shifted spoke of someone with more advanced training.

  Asher idly wondered who this man was.

  “The same Asher Owens who tried to leave Cadia last night without permission, until Rhynne Nova, Guardian of Cadia stopped you?”

  Asher felt distinctly uncomfortable as several passersby slowed at that accusation. He knew in a matter of minutes everyone would know about his aborted attempt to see the land beyond his home.

  “Red dragon? Bit of a sharp tongue?” he asked, not immediately knowing who Rhynne was.

  “That would be the one.”

  “Yea, I’m that Asher. Who wants to know?” he said, repeating his original statement.

  “I do,” the man said, as if that should be obvious.

  Asher rolled his eyes. “Great, a real intellect. Look, did you just come to make a scene? Or do you have a purpose here?”

  The other man stared at him for a moment. When he didn’t say anything, Asher shook his head, and spinning on the spot, headed back into town.

  A hand landed on his right shoulder.

  Without thinking Asher spun, his right arm coming up and around to dislodge the grip, while his left flashed across his face, blocking the punch that usually followed such a move.

  Except there was no punch. The other man simply lifted his hand out of the way and stepped back.

  “My name is Blaine Wingstar,” he said at last.

  Asher’s mouth fell open. He might not know the man, but he knew who Blaine Wingstar was. Everyone knew who he was.

  “The same Blaine Wingstar who went through Top Scale? Who served with the Guardians for five decades and eventually became their commander? That Blaine Wingstar?” he asked in disbelief.

  “That is I,” he said.

  “What in the hell do you want with me? I’m nothing special. Just a dragon shifter trying to find his way, like everyone else.”

  Blaine’s lips twitched, in what might have been his approximation of a smile.

  “Tell me, Asher Owens, Frost Dragon. Is it true you attempted a mid-plummet aerial sideswipe, and then tried to drop below the Vallenwoods to lose your pursuer?”

  He snorted. “Tried, yes. And failed miserably. Thanks for the reminder.” Asher turned to go, but Blaine stopped him once more.

  “From the way Rhynne described it, you came within feet of success.”

  “She said that?” Asher had a hard time believing the gruff Guardian would have extended him any sort of respect. It had been a combination of maneuvers that, if he had Blaine’s skills, would have worked impeccably. Unfortunately, he had not trained at Top Scale, and he could not fly with the grace of either Rhynne or Blaine.

  “She did. Which is why I am here,” Blaine told him.

  Asher was getting suspicious now. “This doesn’t sound good.”

  Now Blaine did smile.

  This was definitely not good.

  “You know where Top Scale Academy is, Asher Owens?”

  “Of course I know. Out by Forlorn Peak.” The truth was that was about all he know. No one was allowed near Top Scale without permission, and the rules were enforced ruthlessly.

  And for good reason.

  Forlorn Peak was a mountain that was actually inside the borders of Cadia. While most of the Quicksilver mountain range to the west ran almost completely north-south, Forlorn Peak was on its own, perhaps several miles inside Cadia, and was officially part of the shifter territory.

  “Excellent.”

  “Why?”

  Blaine shook his head slowly, as if disappointed the younger man wasn’t getting it. “Asher, I am the senior instructor at Top Scale. There is a new class forming. Tomorrow morning. Eight sharp.”

  “So?”

  The fierce-looking man reached out and flicked him on the forehead. “Use this and figure it out.”

  He turned and moved back into the circle.

  There was a swirl of yellow-green gas that abruptly expanded, and then it dissipated just as quickly to reveal the massive green dragon. Wings swept wide, over fifty feet in either direction, and with a powerful flap of his wings and a spring from his legs, Blaine leapt into the air with a grace and agility that Asher would never match.

  Asher watched him go, his mind in a daze.

  Had he just been recruited into Top Scale?

  The world spun around him and he dropped to one knee to balance himself, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.

  “Hey Asher, heard you tried to flew the coop, but that you chickened out at the end?”

  Uproarious laughter followed as Sterling Muggrin went by. Asher rolled his eyes at the gryphon shifters. He wasn’t interested in fighting. Not now. Normally he would have words for the gryphon, but today everything else was secondary.

  He managed to make his confused way to the nearest café, Morrte’s Delicatessen. Morrte was a good friend of his. The wolf shifter nodded in his direction as he entered. Asher threw himself into one of the carefully constructed and reinforced seats, knowing it could take it. He remained there, hunched over the table, his mind far away, until someone shoved a cup of delicious-smelling coffee in front of him.

  One of the finest human inventions, that.

  He took a big sip of it, feeling his mind almost instantly kick into overdrive.

  “Thanks Morrte,” he muttered, then looked up in surprise when the owner sat in the chair across from him.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Ash. Something wrong?”

  The dragon shifter s
hook his head. “No. Actually, somehow, I think it’s the exact opposite.”

  “What do you mean? I thought you got busted trying to leave last night.”

  “I did,” he said in amazement. “And then someone sought me out this morning.”

  “Who?” The owner leaned in close, curious to know what was going on with one of his good friends, Asher figured.

  “Blaine Wingstar.”

  Morrte sat back in his chair, jaw wide open. “You’re joking.”

  Asher shook his head. “He told me there’s a new class being formed at Top Scale. He told me the time to be there.” He looked up at last, meeting the beady brown eyes of his friend. “I think I was recruited.”

  “Holy shit,” Morrte exclaimed. “That’s amazing, Ash!”

  “Shhh,” he said. “Keep your voice down. I don’t actually know what he meant.” He proceeded to tell his friend about the encounter.

  “Yeah, that means you get your ass there at eight, Ash. Oh, and a helpful tip?”

  “What?”

  “Don’t be frigging late to this, like you are for everything else.”

  Asher glared at his friend, downing the rest of his coffee. “Thanks for that, Morrte. Appreciate it.”

  Top Scale Academy. Him. The place where bumbling dragon shifters were transformed into the elite. Every few years, the Wing Commander took in several students, though there was no set schedule. Only when he felt it appropriate.

  His attempt to leave Cadia had somehow resulted in him being recruited into the most prestigious shifter school there was. Each race had one, but Top Scale was above the rest, and it wasn’t even close. There he would learn how to fly properly. To become adept at aerial combat.

  Asher would learn how to be a true dragon, and unleash his breath weapon—like Rhynne had done so the night before—for the first time with effortless ease.

  Graduation from Top Scale would allow him to be free. To travel to other shifter territories, and to visit the human cities. No restrictions would apply to him.

  There was even the possibility that he might be chosen to become a Guardian like Rhynne. Tasked with patrolling the borders of Cadia, to ensure untrained shifters—like his current self!—did not leave Cadia.