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 attention 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 t
hose 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?
Dakota could think of one reason. The dragons hadn’t been seen in years because the professor was bringing students for the dragons to kidnap. That was all she could think of. Professor Llewellyn brought sacrifices to keep her campus safe.
And one had found her.
When the dragon the size of a bus didn’t get the response from her that he wanted, he began to inch back from her. She shook her head and tried to turn back to the journal on her lap. She prayed that he would go away if she ignored him. If he couldn’t fascinate her, maybe he would lose interest in her and move on.
Her pencil stopped moving. She gripped it tight in her hand and closed her eyes. There was not a dragon in front of her. There was no dragon at all.
As if lying to herself would make it true.
She heard a huff of air right before it blew back her dark tresses. Feeling her brow knit together, she cracked open an eye to peer ahead. She could have sworn the dragon smiled before wiggling its hind quarters much like a cat. Massive legs pushed off and the dragon left the ground. Its lean body formed an arc before coming back to the earth beside her. It did it over and over, pouncing in circles around her.
It made no move to grab her or otherwise threaten her. Instead, it felt like he was trying to make her laugh. She knew that she should ignore the beast, but she let her hair fall over her face and watched it pounce around her from the corner of her eye. It was beautiful in a frightening way. One misstep and the beast’s massive form would crush her frail, human body.
But, she wasn’t afraid as the beast’s tail swung from side to side. She hid her smile while pretending to ignore the dragon until panic touched the edges of her thought. If anyone caught this happening she was done for. She glanced up and looked around the clearing. There was no one else in sight.
Her shoulders relaxed and her pencil went back to work. Eventually, the dragon settled down nearby and laid his giant head on his taloned hands and watched her draw. After a long while, she checked her phone screen and realized that the bus would be leaving soon. She cast a glance at the nearby dragon. It was fast asleep, or at least pretending to be.
If she stood, would it jump and grab her? Or, would it let her leave of her own accord? Carefully, she tucked her journal under her arm and pushed herself up from her seat. When the dragon didn’t move, she forced herself to walk, not run, back to the bus.
***
Dakota closed the space between her and the professor.
“Did you take us into the dragon territory?” her voice growled as she raised a finger toward the older woman.
Her eyes widened ever so slightly. “I would never do something so stupid. If I were to do a thing like that, I could very well lose my job.”
Dakota narrowed her eyes. This professor’s lying could make Dakota lose everything she’d fought for. All the money she’d spent on the airline tickets, the work she’d put into getting the grant, would be wasted because this woman wanted to lie to her. Or, worse, the woman had no idea just how close she’d taken her students to the dragon territory.
“Why?” the professor asked. “Did you see a dragon, Miss Brennan?”
Dakota felt the blood rush from her face. “No. Not at all.”
Like that, her anger was gone. In its place was cold fear. She had almost ruined everything for herself with her angry words. Professor Llewellyn would be forced to report her to the Dean if she knew that Dakota had not only seen a dragon, but nearly interacted with one.
“Don’t be so afraid.” The professor laid a warm hand on Dakota’s arm.
Chapter Three
Wesley flew back to his home, his thoughts filled with the woman that refused to look at him. The stone tower that he’d worked to rebuild over his years rose from the tree studded territory. As his form glided down toward the roof, he let magic wrap around him and shrink his form. Human feet slapped the stone roof.
The structure shuddered beneath him as if it had the full weight of a dragon dropped upon it. Wes paused and prayed that his home would hold. When nothing fell, he straightened himself. He’d found the castle in disrepair right after the Occurrence had trapped him on the territory. It had captured his attention for years as he rebuilt it stone by stone and turned it into a home for himself, but it was nearly finished and he was growing bored.
The rooms seemed empty. The halls were filled with only the sound of the wind around him. The rooms only held the crackle of fire in the hearths. His kind were solitary creatures, unable to stand one another’s presence for much longer than a night before scales started to get ruffled. Some dragons liked the peace and quiet. He knew that his grandfather had come to live with it.
Other dragons, like Elgar, started to hear things in the silence. Even that was a kind of company.
Wes shook his head. He was thinking depressing thoughts, he reminded himself. It would do no good for him to dwell on such things. He could do nothing about it besides busy himself. He could add a new tower to the castle or start to build a new bed for his master bedroom. Either one would take a sufficient amount of his time, and would keep his human hands busy.
He reached for the set of clothes that he kept on the roof, a pair of sweat pants worn thin over time and a t-shirt that stretched over his broad shoulders. Soon, he would have to ask his mother to make a trip to the city to grab him more clothing. No one knew that she was the mate of an old dragon and it helped her to still get around. It also helped Wes and his father from time to time. He could recall times that his mother had to go to the city to replace electronics that his father had destroyed by accident.
Welsh dragons were far too prone to melting things, mostly modern plastics.
Properly dressed, Wes descended the stairs while deciding what would best put his hands to use. The beast in his head had other ideas. Images of the dark-haired vixen crossed his mind once more.
The way that she had glared at them made his dragon hot with anger.
Not everyone has to love you.
Wesley felt his beast narrow his eyes and blow a huff of steam. It burned him from the inside out.
We are honor bound to stay within the territory. Forget the woman. We are already pushing our limits too much as it is.
Even as Wes told his beast to forget her, he knew that he could barely push her from his own mind. The smell of her had been unusual and clung to his senses. Irises. That was what he’d smelled on her. So different from the other women that drowned themselves in vanilla or musk to attract men. She smelled of simple gardens.
No. He shook his head. Forget her. Clearly, she hadn’t been interested. She’d snubbed him and his attempt to draw even a single smile out of her.
Wes went out to the forge that he’d built for himself and started the fire in the bellows with a bellyful of fire. He would put himself to work. He would drown his mind in complicated designs so that his beast could barely find a voice. He’d been meaning to get to work on a bed for his master bedroom. He wanted something grand and beautiful that he could spread out on. In his mind, he had visions of wrought iron branches and vines that wrapped themselves into complicated knots.
It would be nothing for him to bend the heated metal beneath his hands. The effort would tire the beast inside of him and, maybe, he would sleep peacefully without the thoughts of a dark-haired woman entering his mind.
***
Dakota chewed her lip while she held onto her journal with white knuckles on the trip back to campus. The professor would turn in her seat every so often and cast curious glances in Dakota’s direction. All she wanted was for the professor to forget about her accusation, but she didn’t think she would be that lucky any time soon.
She couldn’t let anyone see what she’d drawn in the journal. She didn’t even know why she’d done it. She’d drawn the red dragon that had played like a curious cat around her.
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