ã€ŠAscendancy of Dragonsã€‹


 Squadron Thirteen

    Of course, I knew who Eagan Maverick was. Who didn¡¯t? It was pretty hard to ignore the rumours and disgusted glances people threw towards the guy, and where I felt pity, I also felt fearful.

    Dragons are born huge, powerful and menacing after all, and here at Everlette Academy, dragons are allowed to enrol. It is rare, since other students give them a wide berth and generally make their lives uncomfortable or even dangerous, but as a standard rule, the dragons are left to their own devices.

    Eagan Maverick is the only dragon student here at Everlette, and as a final year student with excellent grades, has managed to acquire the status and ability to act as squadron leader, and given the opportunity to train other students to then form a tight knit regiment for an outpost at the border to protect the kingdom. It¡¯s a fine position to be a squadron leader.

    It comes with many benefits, and he would be able to command respect with his position, but looking across the hall, that respect looks more like avoidance and fear.

    ¡°Emery Van Glau,¡± professor Oaklore announces, ¡°Your application was accepted by Squadron Five leader Otto Rawcliff.¡±

    My attention returns to the current situation. It¡¯s the third year ceremony that sorts students into squadrons, and I¡¯ve been dreading it. I was not considered worthy enough to puy forth an application due to my background. Unfortunately, family and money get you far at Everlette, and I have exactly none of those things. I¡¯m an orphan, and despite my decent grades, I am expected to flow under the radar and take up record work in the towers, spending my life unseen and noting down the heroics of the world. I¡¯ve had my fair share of disgusted looks and people avoiding me due to my lack of social standing.

    Truth is, I¡¯ve always wanted to fight alongside a squadron. To have a makeshift family I could depend on and belong to. It¡¯s embarrassing. I¡¯d never admit it to anyone. I just want to belong somewhere.

    Gritting my teeth, I prepare to let go of the hope I had been grasping to for the past three years, sending my gaze skywards. Everlette halls boasts an impressive ceiling made entirely of intricate stained glass designed in swirling florals. The sunlight casts a jewelled glow through the ceiling, illuminating us below in glimmering emerald, fuchsia and cerulean. The names are still being called, sounding far away and distant. I was never really a part of anything here, and with no friends, family or hopes of entering a squadron, I will probably disappear and be forgotten by this place quickly.

    ¡°Margo Earthen, Squadron thirteen, you have been requested by Eagan Maverick.¡±

    My gaze shoots forward, crashing into my current reality of a hundred stares and my eyes locking with his.

    Me?

    I straighten myself instinctively, a habit of mine when trying to appear worthy and confident and probably failing horrendously, but I step towards the stadium of stone where the squadron leaders sit.

    Why me? I think to myself quietly, wondering if someone was going to ruin my chances and declare it a mistake, Will I be okay? We¡¯ve never spoken, or even crossed paths to my knowledge, and yet he requested me?

    I am a good student. Nothing spectacular, but good. I¡¯d argue I belong on the stadium more than the students only in attendance due to financial influence, but I have to take what I can and work ten times harder just to proceed.

    Eagan Maverick gives me that chance.

    I make it to the stadium and ascend the jagged steps, hearing the muttering and whispers start. When I look up, I can almost understand why. He¡¯s huge. He¡¯s so much more prominent and threatening up close, with those shocking burgundy eyes that confirm his bloodline. I swallow, feeling smaller by the second as I move to stand in front of him. His eyes are observing me with cool calculation, as though trying to figure me out.

    Remembering myself, I hold my hand out.

    ¡°Margo Earthen, it¡¯s a pleasure to become a member of Squadron thirteen,¡± I say quietly, emotion threatening to creep into my voice.

    I compose myself.

    He has no idea how thankful I am for the opportunity. To get a chance.

    His eyes flicker something I don¡¯t recognise. I don¡¯t know the guy at all, and I¡¯m beginning to think he doesn¡¯t show much emotion, just sharp observation and...dark aura?

    His brow barely raises as though in question, and he takes my offered hand, shaking it firmly. He dwarfs me, his skin hot against mine.

    ¡°A pleasure,¡± he says with a nod, and I¡¯m struck by his word choice.

    A pleasure?

    I take in his face, his demeanour, my mind trying to grasp any understanding.

    Is this all because no one willing applied for his squadron, so he had to research and find candidates? If that were the case, his research led him to me.

    Someone thinks I¡¯m worthy, not through money or status, but my efforts.

    I take my place beside him, brimming with emotion, and become more overjoyed as he had requested others too.

    We¡¯re all misfits, I think fondly, observing my newfound makeshift family.

    We¡¯re the smallest squadron on the stadium, consisting of five compared to the largest squadron of thirty-two. My gaze travels to the other three members of squadron thirteen.

    There¡¯s Linden, a short but fast guy with fair features and a stubbornly set jaw. Axel, long with a bearish build and a shock of copper curls. Then finally, Hugo, who sports a dozen scars drifting down his jaw and neck, and the kind of arrogance that comes with being difficult to kill. I think briefly that I wish there was a female member I could try and befriend but dismiss the thought.

    I¡¯m just glad to be here.

    I don¡¯t miss the way the guys peer over at me in quiet puzzlement, wondering why a short nobody is standing amongst them, but we all look equally baffled with how we got chosen to be here today.

    The ceremony drags on as they remind us of our new roles and expectations. The sun is still blazing through the stained glass ceiling, throwing an amber shade aglow over Eagan. It rather suits him, with his red eyes and black obsidian hair. I¡¯m slightly startled by the realisation that if I don¡¯t fixate on how dangerous and disliked he is, he¡¯s undoubtedly handsome. No one ever talks about that though.

    His eyes snap to mine with arrow sharp precision, but he doesn¡¯t say anything, just motions for me to pay attention, his hand swirling to direct me to turn my gaze the right way. I do as instructed, my cheeks heating over being caught staring while thinking inappropriate things.

    It¡¯s not my fault he¡¯s swinging my opinion of him, thus making it possible for me to admire him.

    Especially that arse, I think quietly, allowing myself to admit after all these years that yes, it is in fact a piece of art. Just as quickly as the thought slips free, I tell myself off, embarrassed all over again.

    I fidget, annoyed with myself, and my gaze accidentally catches his again. He seems to be deeply focused, his brow creased and mouth set in a firm line. I give a short nod, returning my gaze to the front.

    I must not leer after my squadron leader, or gaze at his perfectly chiselled body and face, I chant internally, locking away the thoughts. I imagine tossing my obscene thoughts into a moat infested by crocodiles, focusing on the clumps of impure thought being munched at by a series of snapping jaws. I press my lips together to keep from laughing, vowing to be a model student and dutiful squadron member.

    It¡¯s not like I¡¯m going to fall in love with the guy, but I still shouldn¡¯t allow myself to get too caught up in his good looks. I feel a twist of misery at remembering the two years of male students messing with me, thinking it hilarious to play with my feelings or to shout obscene things at me. I cross my arms self-consciously, remembering how one particular student had pinned me down with a knife at my throat, high on the grandeur of being able to kill me and get away with it because I¡¯m no one.

    Luckily, he had a change of heart and shoved me further into the mud, declaring me not worth it, but it messes with you. I normally steer clear of guys as a general rule, but here I am as the only girl in my squadron.

    Slowly, the hall clears, and we¡¯re finally given permission to go to our new quarters as new third year¡¯s.

    ¡°I¡¯ve heard we get the biggest wing because it¡¯s furthest away from the other wings,¡± Linden directs at Eagan, his eyes focused and on edge.

    Eagan nods.

    ¡°Most don¡¯t want to get anywhere near me,¡± he responds dryly, ¡°But it comes with some perks. We have more space to train.¡±

    ¡°So, why us if you know that?¡± Axel counters, all hard burly muscle and hard set stare.

    Eagan meets his stare, indifferent to Axel¡¯s accusation.

    ¡°Because I chose each and everyone of you for a particular reason. You, I happened to choose because not only do you dominate in grappling and hand to hand combat, but you fight fair. You also got a detention for fighting against four seniors, but it was for an honourable reason. You have morals and value the things that matter. We need that.¡±

    Axel squirms at the high praise, and I can¡¯t blame him. This place is not known for compliments and smiles. Praise is non-existent, and to hear it is uncomfortable but needed. Axel becomes quiet, and Eagan turns his attention to Linden.

    ¡°You make explosives. You¡¯re small and fast with knives, but I also know that you have seven younger sisters that you¡¯ve been protecting throughout their time here, especially recently. How are your ribs?¡±

    He looks pointedly to Linden¡¯s ribs, and Linden splutters, his cheeks reddening.

    ¡°Hugo has expert sword control, and though his methods are insane, they work and catch people off guard. Not to mention you¡¯ve been donating most of your student loan to give back to the orphanage that raised you.¡±

    Hugo¡¯s eyes flare and his jaw twitches, but he stays silent.

    Finally, his gaze turns to me, and I¡¯m stumped. I don¡¯t have family I protect or send money to. I don¡¯t defend people in honourable ways. I have had no one and protected no one. Shame swarms me.

    ¡°She¡¯s been looking after dragon hatchlings since her arrival here, and they¡¯ve imprinted on her, so that gives us five dragons.¡±

    My eyes widen.

    No one knows that.

    No one.

    I press my lips firmly together. It was accidental. There had been a thunderous storm when I had travelled on foot to the academy to enrol, and lightning had set fire to the forest. Creatures were running away, but off the path, illuminated by flames, was a dragon guarding her nest. I tried to get her to leave. Tried to reason with her that her eggs could survive fire, but that she would not survive the lightning bolts tearing into the forest. I begged, and then cried over my failure as the lightning struck her. Rain washed away the licks of lingering flame, and I buried her at her nest, convinced the eggs wouldn¡¯t have survived either. How wrong I was.

    The lightning had hatched them.

    ¡°You¡¯re insane,¡± Linden breathes, ¡°Real dragons? Not Dragon like Eagan dragon, but real- ¡°

    Eagan sighs impatiently. He must get this a lot. Everyone knows that Eagan is a dragon morph if we¡¯re getting technical, his bloodline blessed by an ancient dragon hundreds of years ago. There are other races, but unlike dragon morphs, the powers are diluted. I wish they weren¡¯t diluted currently, so I could blast Eagan out the ceiling with a torrent of water.

    ¡°No one knows about them,¡± I bite out, anger flashing through me, ¡°I rebuilt their nest elsewhere, away from the main path- ¡°

    ¡°She was my dragon,¡± Eagan cuts me off, his face unreadable, ¡°She wouldn¡¯t let me near the nest. I found her buried...then tracked down the new nest. Eventually I realised it was you, and that you hadn¡¯t notified anyone of their existence. You kept them safe.¡±

    ¡°But you want us to use them,¡± I accused him, my eyes glistening, ¡°They¡¯ve only just started to shed their juvenile scales...¡±

    His eyes glimmer through his thought process, but his face is still impassive.

    ¡°They¡¯re Lightning struck. Made of lightning. Made for battle- ¡°

    ¡°Wait,¡± Axel mutters, shaking his head, ¡°How the fuck did you manage to hide a grown ass dragon near the main path?¡±

    Eagan sighed again, somewhat disapprovingly of this line of questioning.

    ¡°She could camouflage.¡±

    I shift, as that was something I hadn¡¯t known six months ago, when I almost lost my mind over being unable to find them. The hatchlings delight in hide and seek apparently.

    ¡°You¡¯re not free to use them as battle cattle,¡± I say firmly, glaring directly at Eagan, ¡°I don¡¯t care who you are, they¡¯re babies.¡±

    Axel shoots me an incredulous look.

    ¡°Yeah? And how big are these babies?¡± He challenges.

    He¡¯s got me there. Dragons mature fast, but most are the size of horses at best. However, my five are closer to the size of houses.

    ¡°If anything like their mother, huge,¡± Eagan confirms, but his tone is hard as he glances my way.

    Way to go Margo, I think to myself, make an enemy of the hot Squadron leader why don¡¯t you?

    I can¡¯t stand down though. These aren¡¯t my lives to risk, and they are still so young. Eagan may have owned the mother, but that means nothing to me. He hasn¡¯t been there for the hatchlings.

    ¡°When they¡¯re older and more established I may reconsider,¡± I tell him, not willing to budge, ¡°But until then they are to be protected and allowed to grow and mature.¡±

    Linden and Axel nod approvingly, which Eagan notes with narrowed eyes, but Hugo has his lips pursed.

    ¡°We still need to meet them though,¡± he shrugs, ¡°If you do decide yes. Better for us to know them than not.¡±

    I bristle but can see his reasoning.

    ¡°I understand your point, but I am... protective. I need to settle into the idea. I don¡¯t even know you guys yet, and it¡¯s a lot to consider, and...¡±

    I drift off, thinking about the way the hatchling would love tormenting the four of them. They love chasing, wrestling, nipping and hiding, and I can see how easily it could all work...it¡¯s just about notifying the academy of the neighbouring five dragons.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°What will the academy think about it?¡± I finally finish, dread filling me.

    The school has no official rules or regulations about dragons, but they do have rules mentioning weaponry, and it could be argued that is exactly what they could be.

    But they¡¯re more like bratty puppies.

    Eagan twists his mouth, as though caught between a retort and a smirk. It¡¯s an odd look.

    ¡°As per regulation that I have to follow as leader,¡± Eagan tells me firmly, ¡°I have had to report it. However I reported it to Professor Chambers, who took the matter to the high council to see that the dragons stay protected.¡±

    I¡¯m conflicted on whether to be thankful or not and settle on silently seething and wishing to scream at him. Strange how my high of joining a squadron has sailed and now I¡¯m wishing violence on Eagan and his...fucking indecently lickable biceps. I lick my bottom lip quickly, dismissing the thought as I return my focus to his face.

    Fucking gorgeous, arrogant, stubborn arse, I curse at him mentally, crossing my arms and openly glaring.

    Axel whistles, moving awkwardly away and exchanging a concerned look between Linden and Hugo. I feel bad for them seeing this argument when it¡¯s not their fault, so I unwillingly school my expression into a less pissed off one.

    ¡°Moving on,¡± I say sourly, trying to restrain my tone, ¡°What now?¡±

    Eagan doesn¡¯t move, his arms still crossed, and his eyes still fixed on me like a snake deciding on whether to strike or not. The Hall is beginning to empty now, and a curious nosy few keep glancing at our group, their expressions a mixture of disgust and intrigue.

    ¡°I¡¯ll guide you to your new quarters. Margo, you¡¯ll be happy to know you have the female dorm wing all to yourself,¡± he says flatly.

    I feel like he¡¯s insinuating he¡¯s glad I¡¯ll be far away from him, but what do I know?

    ¡°Excellent,¡± I retort, ¡°please lead the way.¡±

    Eagan turns around and does exactly that, his pace a constant stride that eats up distance with ease. I start to lag behind quickly, my legs short, and Axel takes notice and offers his hand.

    I take it gratefully, wondering if it¡¯s the big brother in him looking out for me and my little dainty legs.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go, Stumpy,¡± he says playfully, ¡°Or do you want a piggyback ride?¡±

    I give him a flustered look, not wanting to be treated like a complete child.

    ¡°No thank you,¡± I say rather crossly, ¡°And I am not stumpy.¡±

    He looks me over briefly.

    ¡°Pocket sized,¡± he throws back at me, thinking himself hilarious, ¡°Easy to throw.¡±

    I scoff.

    ¡°And you¡¯re an easy target to hit,¡± I fire at him.

    He laughs loudly, causing the others to look back in bewildered surprise, but we all keep moving, leaving Everlette Academy and descending the rough stone steps to the twisting moss covered hillside with its winding path to our new dorms. We pass the other dorms, and I think of how each one has a different perk. One has a huge library, another has a hot spring, and there are even rumours that one has a secret underground cave system that connects to the academy. The inside of the dorms is kept very private and secret. I never thought I¡¯d get to be in one, and I feel my heart squeeze in excitement over what it might be like.

    My excitement churns into slow disappointment as we near the oldest, most rustic and uncared for building at the furthest reach of academy grounds. It looks to be the corner tower of an old Fort, with a large scaling wall reaching north, and the other wall pointing at an angle east. It¡¯s huge and casts a looming shadow in front as the sun sets behind it. The grass is full of weeds, reflecting how derelict and barren the place looks.

    ¡°It¡¯s not pretty,¡± Eagan comments as he catches our expressions, ¡°But this is not a palace. It¡¯s practical and fit for purpose, so we are safe. See those two pillars?¡± He asks, nodding towards the structure, ¡°They¡¯re protection shield projectors. Strong ones. No one can touch us.¡±

    I glance at the odd curved stones sticking out the ground, looking eerily similar to tombstones.

    ¡°So, our dorm perk is...safety?¡± Linden checks, sounding unsure.

    Eagan raises an eyebrow.

    ¡°Would you rather have your enemies be able to easily assassinate you as you sleep, because without those projectors, we¡¯re fresh meat?¡±

    Linden clamps his mouth shut, peering up at the fort with dismay.

    ¡°No... secret underground tunnel to a brothel?¡± Hugo pipes up, and then remembers my attendance, his cheeks reddening, ¡°Or to a, um...marketplace?¡±

    I narrow my eyes at him, and he shrugs.

    ¡°Girls like markets?¡± he says weakly in his defence, ¡°For buying pretty things.¡±

    I feel like rolling my eyes.

    ¡°Yes, pretty girls buy pretty things. I just buy what I need,¡± I deadpan, trying to ignore how much I envy the pretty rich girls buying new cloaks, boots and hair ribbons.

    Not that they do me any justice. If Eagan is scorching hot as fuck, then I¡¯m tepid swamp water. Plain, boring and nothing good to explore. Perhaps a chance of swampy drowning.

    Eagan looks my way, frowning as though I had just insulted him. It must be nice to look good, even if that¡¯s the only thing going for you.

    His gaze darkens, and he turns towards the fort as though wanting to be rid of us. Axel looks down at me.

    ¡°Is there something between you or summit? It¡¯s like he¡¯s constantly aware of you,¡± he whispers to me.

    I almost choke on my own spit.

    ¡°In what world?¡± I hiss.

    Linden shrugs.

    ¡°In a world where guys bully girls they like,¡± he offers plainly.

    I wrinkle my nose, remembering exactly what it feels like to be on the receiving end of bullying, and finding none of it remotely close to being a one-sided crush. It was just straight up hatred and desire to intimidate or worse.

    ¡°Not in a million years would Eagan Maverick like me,¡± I respond coldly.

    I can fantasise all I want about his long strong legs and muscular physique, but giving myself false hope? No way. I don¡¯t have the emotional energy to fuck myself up that way.

    ¡°He¡¯s a Squadron leader. He¡¯s not going to act like anything else.¡±

    Hugo seems impressed by my answer, as does Linden, but Axel looks at me with a shrewd expression I imagine his sisters receive a lot.

    We enter the fort with a sense of trepidation. The door hinges need oiling, as there¡¯s a shriek of a screech as we open the door, and we grimace at the sound. The walls and floors are all grey stone slabs, functional and dreary, decorated by dust, cobwebs and little to no lighting.

    ¡°This is the entrance, as you can see,¡± Eagan pipes up, appearing in a dark doorway from the shadows, ¡°The first floor has the food court, the second has a study space, and then the top floor is for sparring. North wall is for men, East for the woman. Any questions?¡±

    Hugo slides a finger across a dusty surface, and blanches when he pulls it back to inspect.

    ¡°Yeah, when the fuck was the last time you cleaned this place?¡± He asks, moving to a window, ¡°The air in here is thick, how can you breathe, man?¡±

    Eagan levels a cold stare at Hugo.

    ¡°Open a damn window if you¡¯re that bothered,¡± he quips, but then settles, ¡°We¡¯re the last on the cleaning list. This place hasn¡¯t been used for some time, as its been used for book storage for the last fifteen years. A clean team will arrive sometime this week.¡±

    Hugo looks peeved by this, but sensibly shuts up when Eagan glares at him. There are other things to consider that take priority, like people targeting us just because Eagan is a dragon. Or other squadrons having more money, status and opportunity. A better chance than us.

    Eagan sends us to explore, dismissing us but asking us all to return in time for dinner. Axel immediately leaves for the sparring grounds on the top floor with Hugo, and Linden heads for the library, while I head towards the East Side, towards my new room.

    Treading cautiously through the shadowed space, I draw a mental map of the old Fort, noting the strange narrow tunnels and winding stairs with a sense of puzzlement. The fort is much larger on the outside, but inside everything seems so narrow and twisting. Breathing out an unsettled sigh, I open heavy doors to find complete darkness, stilling. Endless onyx stares back, eerie and silent.

    ¡°You took a wrong turn.¡±

    I whip around, my throat strangling back a cry of panic, but I push it down, realising in the dark space that the voice belongs to Eagan. He looks hesitant, but finally leans forward and closes the door. As he moves in front of me, I catch his scent, surprised by how good he smells. I can¡¯t quite pin down the scent, but it¡¯s a greedy one, making me have to fight back the urge to lean forward and inhale.

    ¡°It¡¯s my room, yours is over there, with the sign on the front saying ¡®women¡¯s dormitory,¡± he says flatly, gesturing towards a black door that blends into the wall and shadows.

    Embarrassment creeps into my cheeks, red hot, and I avert my eyes.

    ¡°You said the east side is for women?¡± I accuse him, feeling unsettled.

    It¡¯s not like his room being at the end of the corridor is life-threatening or even a problem, but it means I¡¯ll feel under surveillance.

    ¡°It has the biggest bed and a fireplace,¡± Eagan informs me, as if that explains everything, ¡°Plus it¡¯s closest to the emergency exit and links to the stairway that connects directly to the North side.¡±

    So he can keep track of us, I think quietly, trying hard to dismiss the nosy voice in my head insisting I¡¯d like to see his big bed.

    ¡°Your door was unlocked,¡± I state, ¡°For all your enemies, I¡¯d have my door locked.¡±

    His lip twitches, but then he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

    ¡°It¡¯s got protective runes all over it. If anyone tries to get through without my permission, they get flung to the other side of the corridor. Dead.¡±

    My eyes widen.

    ¡°But they can open it?¡±

    Eagan narrows his eyes, seeming to observe me steadily.

    ¡°People often get too impatient when they know they can open a door to then kill someone. They fling it open and start moving through without caution. Impatience gets people killed,¡± he tells me, head cocking to the side, ¡°But you didn¡¯t go through. You stopped completely.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, because it felt dangerous. Creepy. It¡¯s pitch black in there.¡±

    His lips twitch into a ghost of a smile, something that unnerves me.

    ¡°You should make use of that good intuition of yours. That cautiousness. It keeps people safe.¡±

    He nods over at my door.

    ¡°You have another hour before dinner. Go explore while you can, or sleep,¡± he instructs.

    I turn to leave, intrigued by what my new room will be like. Academy rooms were small, narrow and shared amongst four other girls, but here I am the only girl. I¡¯ll be glad for the privacy and space.

    I catch another waft of Eagan¡¯s scent and have to clamp my mouth shut when I realise what it is.

    Pheromones.

    He is emanating pheromones in heady amounts, which means only one thing, and one thing only, but for some reason I never expected it from him.

    He¡¯s in heat.

    I look at him again, at the composure he carries, calm and collected, before narrowing my eyes on the way his eyes fixate on my mouth. Dragons go into heat rarely, contrary to what people expect, as it only comes into effect when there¡¯s a worthy partner, or to release excess stress from the body. I watch as his pupils dilate, and inch back instinctively.

    ¡°You¡¯re in heat.¡±

    His eyes snap to mine as if becoming aware of where he is.

    ¡°You¡¯re safe,¡± he informs me shortly, ¡°I¡¯m just out of sorts. Nothing more.¡±

    My chest clenches.

    You¡¯re safe.

    As if I were ever in danger of enticing Eagan Maverick of all people. Of all people, he would never invite me into his bed to satisfy his needs.

    I swallow back the surge of embarrassment.

    ¡°Secret is safe with me,¡± I say quietly, turning back towards my new room.

    I feel like an idiot. A pitiful fool. I am not bedroom material. I live in libraries and take walks in the woods to scavenge berries and herbs, but damn, sometimes I wish men found me attractive and desirable. That I did belong in a man¡¯s fantasy where the sight of me sent him crazy.

    I school my expression, trying to fight back my insecurities. My lack of beauty, grace or charm haunts me, as well of my lack of wealth or status.

    I enter my new room in a hurried desperation to save face. It¡¯s a nice room, I suppose, but I can¡¯t thoroughly appreciate it when I¡¯ve just confirmed how much Eagan Maverick will never fulfil my fantasies.

    You¡¯re safe.

    His words ring in my head, and I remind myself I¡¯m not here for him. I never was. I was always here for a fighting chance to make something for myself.

    I square my shoulders, moving to examine the space provided for me. I¡¯m pleased to find a wall lined with books, and even happier when I realise they¡¯re all magic. Tomes and tomes of magical guidelines with small practical magic for everyday life. My eyes drift over the spines, taking particular interest in a book about creating your own clothing from nothing more than imagination, before feeling embarrassed by my shallow desires. This isn¡¯t becoming behaviour of a strong independent woman. Yet I can¡¯t stop desiring to be desirable.

    I pluck the book out and start reading. Magic has always been my forte, made easier by my fae ancestry. Magical bloodlines are mostly diluted now, fazed out overtime by war and mass genocides. The only race not affected by dilution of power are the dragons, and that¡¯s because the power was given by a dragon. You can¡¯t dilute a blessing from a greater being.

    I focus on the book again. It seems written by a woman with a keen eye for detail and fashion, giving an entire gallery index of different garments to imagine into fruition. It even has makeup, hair, shoes, accessories...it¡¯s a manual I am excited yet ashamed to hold in my hands.

    A knock on my door sounds, and I pause, considering whether it¡¯s Axel, Linden, Hugo or Eagan.

    I answer it, hiding the book back on the shelf first, and to my surprise it¡¯s Eagan. He looks tired and frustrated, his red eyes locking me down as soon as they meet mine.

    ¡°Would you be willing?¡±

    I stare at him, unsure what he¡¯s referring to, and he realises right away and sighs, his frustration growing.

    "My heat," he says, "my stabilizers are wearing off, and I''m asking, as calmly as possible in this situation, if you would be willing to..."

    His voice trails off, and he looks panicked. Feverish. It dawns on me what he¡¯s asking, but I can¡¯t seem to believe it.

    ¡°You want to know if I¡¯ll let you fuck me,¡± I deadpan, trying not to notice all the ways my neither region¡¯s heat and pulse furiously for it to happen.

    Eagan leans against the door, either bracing himself or restraining from entering.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to ask,¡± he growls, and my pussy certainly shouldn¡¯t like growling, ¡°But you are the only one I need right now.¡±

    I¡¯m the only one here, I think direly, debating whether to have a slice of what I want. The other thing to consider is it will probably hurt. A lot. It won¡¯t be sweet or romantic. It will be carnal, primal sex, probably from behind and pushed down, with no regard for myself. It will purely be to release whatever feverish pain is within him.

    Even that seems amazing to imagine, but what would I know as a maiden? Books are good for learning, but I have no real life knowledge and experience.

    I glance over him, before opening my door for him to pass through. Perhaps this is why he wanted me here. For a sexual escape should he need it. I¡¯m not beautiful enough for people to suspect us of dating, so it¡¯s perfect to choose someone like me. Someone plain to-

    Eagan kisses me, and our bodies collide against the back of the door. Shock courses through me at how suddenly he¡¯s on me, but his tongue is in my mouth, tasting and exploring me, setting me alight.

    Fuck.

    His hands turn me around, pushing at my clothing, grasping at the bodice under my shirt until the laces pop, and the garment tears open. His hands find my breasts, before his knees push my legs apart. His hands are everywhere, tearing things off and undressing, and when I expect him to push into me in one deep thrust, I instead cry out in surprise at the hot swipe of tongue between my legs. I shudder, my body a trembling mess at the intimate and powerful feel of his mouth on me.

    ¡°Fuck!¡±

    My body quivers, my hips threatening to buck away from his touch due to sensitivity, but he stands abruptly, lifting my body with ease as he swings me over to the bed, bending me over, knees hitting the mattress. He angles my hips against his mouth, his tongue doing things to me that have me fisting the sheets, and I start trying to move away again, feeling the slow torture of feeling so close yet so far from orgasm.

    ¡°Keep still,¡± he warns me, his hands grasping me tight, ¡°I want you to cum in my mouth.¡±

    My body stiffens, pleasure peaking in a spiking ascent that steals my breath, and as he fastens himself to me I explode, my hips bucking into him now, riding his tongue as my pleasure overwhelms me.

    I don¡¯t have a moment to breathe, as Eagan lifts me upright into a kneeling position, hooks his arms under mine and slides right in.

    My body lifts at the breach, and the sudden invasion, but my exhaustion from orgasm has me falling back against him, feeling the hard lines of muscle ripple as he rolls his hips into me. His hand flies from my chest to between my legs, stroking me as I stretch to accommodate his girth and length. He¡¯s huge. I know dragons are big, but I hadn¡¯t expected that general knowledge to relate to his cock.

    ¡°Breathe,¡± he instructs, his mouth at my ear, sending a flutter through me, ¡°Breathe. You¡¯re too tight, relax.¡±

    I sink against him, realising he¡¯s stopped thrusting, but then I start to move myself onto him, chasing the pleasure as my body swallows him inside.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± he grunts, ¡°I can¡¯t hold back anymore, this might hurt.¡±

    He pushes me down, and sinks into me completely, pounding to the hilt. I cry out, the pleasure throbbing, and I feel Eagan grasp my hips with bruising strength, before thrusting harder than I thought possible. I cum suddenly, my pleasure streaking through me in a surprising lightning rush, and I shudder and gasp, unable to breathe as he furiously fucks me, his pace and pressure unwavering. My body aches from the position. My pussy throbs from the relentless pounding.

    ¡°Change position,¡± I cry out, scrambling onto my elbows, ¡°From the front.¡±

    Eagan grabs a fistful of hair, yanking my head back.

    ¡°You want me to fuck you from the front?¡± He asks in a rough voice, leaning over me, a hand closing around my throat.

    He doesn¡¯t squeeze, but he does roll his hips deeper and deeper, grinding into me. I moan, and he pauses.

    ¡°From the front,¡± he confirms, flipping me as if I weigh nothing, ¡°I want to see your face.¡±

    His hands grip my knees, lifting me closer, and he spreads my legs wider, examining my wet pussy. I throw my hands down to cover his view, and he grasps them both and slings them over my head.

    ¡°Why would you hide yourself?¡± He asks quietly, nudging his cock inside me again.

    I gasp as I¡¯m filled, and his eyes observe my face, watching the moans that tumble from my lips.

    ¡°You feel amazing,¡± he whispers, pressing a kiss under my jaw, his hips thrusting forward harder.

    I can¡¯t reply to him for the life of me, my mouth only capable of fast pants, moans and swearing. My hips are lifting, rolling into his thrusts, and he looks at me with what I wish I could label as heat, but that¡¯s probably wishful thinking. I close my eyes, trying to focus on pleasure, and then they fly open again when Eagan pinches my nipple.

    ¡°Eyes on me, Margo,¡± he orders, his hand moving from my breast to my chin, keeping my gaze level with his, ¡°Focus.¡±

    I grimace, closing my eyes again. I hadn¡¯t considered this position to feel as vulnerable as it does, because I had been so focused on trying to ache less from the previous position. Now I¡¯m wide open, and he can see everything.

    Adding eye contact on top of that is asking too much.

    ¡°Open your eyes, Margo.¡±

    I shake my head, and he stops. ¡°You don¡¯t have to stop, you can get it over with- ¡°

    He draws back like I¡¯ve slapped him.

    ¡°Get it over with?¡±

    I flinch at the ice in his voice and shrink back. But what else is there for him to do? He¡¯s only here to relieve himself of his heat and go. He¡¯s not here for anything else, so he definitely doesn¡¯t need eye contact as he fucks me.

    ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have asked to change position,¡± I sigh, covering myself with blankets, ¡°It¡¯s too intimate and... open, for what you want this to be.¡±

    He glares at me.

    ¡°And what do I want this to be?¡± he challenges.

    ¡°A one time opportunity to ease your symptoms,¡± I fire back, beginning to feel annoyed with myself for going along with it, ¡°Which I¡¯m now fucking regretting.¡±

    He withdraws, dressing swiftly, jaw clenched.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for the-,¡± He closes his eyes, breathing carefully, ¡°The inconvenience.¡±

    So am I.

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to use this against me?¡± I ask, unable to stop myself, ¡°Because if you do, you¡¯ll never get those dragons, I¡¯ll move them, I¡¯ll leave with them-¡±

    His eyes pin me with a glacial rage I¡¯ve never experienced before.

    ¡°Just don¡¯t kick me out. I¡¯ll never mention it,¡± I say lamely, fidgeting.

    And I¡¯ll never do anything this stupid again, I think direly, mortified, I¡¯m never doing that again.

    My pussy hurts, and I lift the blankets higher, my cheeks burning. He¡¯s never going to take me seriously. He¡¯ll hold this against me forever. I¡¯ll have to work twice as hard, or he might get rid of me.

    He leaves without a word, the door slamming so loud and hard I see the wooden door vibrate in its frame.

    ¡°I¡¯m an idiot,¡± I whisper to myself, wiping my eyes, ¡°I¡¯m an idiot and that couldn¡¯t have been worse.¡±

    I dress hurriedly in the discarded clothes he¡¯d ripped off my body, trying to swallow back tears and failing.

    I don¡¯t go down for dinner.

 The Avoidant Kind

    One year later

    Lifting my hands, I purse my lips at the pastel yellow I want, and then smile, flooding the hallway in magic. Colour flushes over the grey drab stone, smoothing any cracks and creepy shadows, and instead washing the space in sunlight. My fingers flick, replacing the barbaric torches for lanterns, and with a flourish I spin to the windows, creating long arches and stained glass in emerald, cerulean and fuchsia. The patterns require attention, so with a pinching motion I fashion the image to one of flowers, birds, and jewels.

    My magic has come far over the last year thanks to locking myself away in the library, keeping my head down and trying to forget what happened between myself and Eagan. He¡¯s left me alone, not doing more than necessary as my squadron leader, and he leaves me to make the dormitory hospitable.

    With a happy sigh, I eye the ceiling, twisting my hand until a chandelier twines into being, all leaves and vine detailing. Another flourish, and the drab floor slabs turn to polished wooden floors complete with a long-woven rug following the length of the corridor. The stairs become wooden, another arching window appearing, and I fine tune the space, adding flowers, artwork, and tapestries.

    ¡°Perfect,¡± I smile, admiring my handiwork, ¡°Cheerful and bright.¡±

    Axel steps through the front door, which I had transformed into a deep green with an intricate silver handle, and he stops dead, reviewing the space with a look of bewilderment.

    ¡°Did Eagan okay this?¡±

    I shrug, because Eagan had been ignoring me for weeks, in a foul mood hostile enough that he can¡¯t even bring himself to look at me.

    ¡°He said I can make it hospitable,¡± I reason.

    Axel whistles.

    ¡°I gather you got your inspiration from citrus fruits?¡±

    I roll my eyes, before catching sight of the sword at his hip and the crusted mud on his boots.

    ¡°You were training again?¡± I ask, catching the unease flickering across his face.

    Axel may be built like a shithouse, but he can¡¯t lie, nor does he even want to. He hangs his head, copper curls shaking as he hesitantly shakes his hair out, his cheeks puffing up as he prepares to admit to whatever has happened.

    ¡°So,¡± he begins delicately, his hands splaying in front, ¡°Don¡¯t be mad. I warned him. We went to the woods.¡±

    I blink, squeezing my eyes closed as I try and gather my mental energy. I had been in such a good mood today, and now? I¡¯m going to stab my squadron leader to death.

    ¡°To try and see the dragons?¡± I ask patiently, heaving a sigh.

    After joining squadron thirteen and Eagan exposing the fact I have five dragons imprinted on me, they had gone looking for the dragons to see for themselves what they would be like. I don¡¯t think they expected the dragons to camouflage and refuse to show themselves.  Even Eagan was distressed by this, but I¡¯m still uneasy about the dragons being used for battle. They may be huge, their juvenile scales now gone and replaced by shimmering adult scales, but they still play hide and seek, hide my things when I visit, and currently? They like to hunt down Axel, Linden, Hugo, and Eagan, stealing their things and tripping them up.

    They especially hate Eagan.

    Axel gives a sheepish look, but he¡¯s torn between his loyalty to Eagan and his fondness of me.

    ¡°Eagan got thrown in the lake,¡± he admits, and then smiles, ¡°And then dunked like a biscuit multiple times.¡±

    The dragons really, really hate Eagan.

    ¡°We can expect him to be in an even worse mood than usual then,¡± I conclude, rubbing my temples.

    I can feel a migraine threatening, as Eagan will, as per usual, come home in his defeat, warning me about how if the dragons continue to refuse cooperation, then our cause is lost as a squadron, and we¡¯ll never find respect or viability to be a decent, strong unit.  Despite how Axel and Hugo are a powerhouse on the field, and Linden is a mastermind of tactics, paired with my strong practical magic, Eagan is never happy.

    He''s never happy, largely because of me, but we¡¯ve never talked about it.

    Axel disappears to wash up, and I begin the long tedious walk towards the lake where Eagan is no doubt muttering angrily nearby. We¡¯ve begun a strange and irksome avoidant kind of relationship, leaving each other to our own devices, but where the dragons are concerned, I can¡¯t leave him to be bullied by giant scaly puppies.  They¡¯re my giant scaly puppies, and I am responsible for them.

    Crossing the fields and taking the winding path down I make my way into the shadowy cusp of trees. The air is still, fragrant with heavy damp, moss, and bark. Peering into the treeline, I wait, knowing that the dragons will be waiting for me. They¡¯re not daft. They like making trouble because they know I can¡¯t ignore the trouble they cause.

    In our defence, Reoa says to my left, He looked really annoying again, and then he started muttering at us. I may have cheered Gulynia with the lake dunking, but only because I am the most supportive of sisters.

    Sighing, I turn, and the air ripples.

    Reoa is a brown and green dragon with scorching golden eyes. They are the largest dragon out of the five, with a wide, thick neck connecting to a small and sharply pointed face. They have four horns formed in a mane that reaches over their head. She¡¯s large, but she¡¯s more of a spectator than an initiator. I reach for her chin, unable to stop the quirk of my lips.

    ¡°So he came over, said some things, and Gulynia dunked him while you cheered?¡±

    Reoa narrows her eyes.

    You make it sound so ill-deserved, she chides, stretching much like a cat would, Gulynia hates the guy for a reason. We all do.

    I grimace, because they are incredibly supportive and defensive of me, to the point of giving Eagan a challenging time due to our, ahem, failed coupling. After the terrible event, the morning after they smelt him even after my bath, and I had to have a profoundly serious yet censored conversation with them about what happened. There¡¯s no point lying to them. They know how animals mount other animals and why, and I refuse to lie to them when they can smell everything.

    ¡°He is still my squadron leader, and I need to maintain my professionalism,¡± I tell her sternly.

    There¡¯s a snort behind me. Gulynia.

    Didn¡¯t stop you from-

    ¡°Not another word,¡± I hiss, my cheeks heating, ¡°I have to live with my mistake, but I will not have it thrown in my face.¡±

    Gulynia slinks lower to the ground. She¡¯s all beige sandy tones and earthy brown, and unlike Reoa, she¡¯s long and graceful, serpentine, and snakelike with short limbs perfect for scurrying.  I¡¯ve researched dragon types with a blind curiosity, and the closest I can find that resembles her is a knucker, but she¡¯s much too large for a knucker. She¡¯s huge, winding and has an incredibly shrewd and judgemental expression.

    Wow, sorry. Didn¡¯t know you were butthurt about it.

    I regard her carefully. She¡¯s the most ill-mannered and sassy, but it doesn¡¯t stop me being fiercely protective.

    ¡°I¡¯m keeping you safe,¡± I try again, trying to gather the shreds of my sanity, ¡°You¡¯re too young to fight. I don¡¯t particularly want you to fight. I¡¯ve kept you secret, protected you and tried my best to be what you need me to be.  It would be nice if you would be a little more of what I need you to be now, which is not troublesome, and not making my squadron leader hate me more than he already does.¡±

    Reoa and Gulynia share an uneasy look, unsettled. I¡¯ve not raised my voice at them much.  Never really needed to. I¡¯ve always been happy, supportive, and patient, but I feel those qualities slipping away from me.  I may be amazing at practical magic, or at least fluent and at ease with it, but the longer my dragons make trouble, the more pressure and anxiety I feel regarding Eagan.

    He sees the failing of the squad as my fault because I¡¯m not ordering my dragons around like a commander. He doesn¡¯t understand. They are neither soldiers nor creatures under his command. They can disregard him and go about their day, acting according to their own will with justifiable autonomy. These beings exist independently, and their origin, struck by lightning, does not determine their fate. Superstition dictates that they should be cast into peril at human behest, yet dragons do not engage in warfare as humans do.

    ¡°I¡¯m tired,¡± I overexplain, guilt stricken, ¡°We¡¯ve been on nothing but patrol and escorting missions for the entire year, and it was not what any of us had envisioned. We¡¯re battling our own expectations.¡±

    Reoa cocks her head, a habit of hers when she¡¯s listening intently, and Gulynia stares, unblinking.

    ¡°So,¡± I clap my hands together, taking a deep breath, ¡°Where¡¯s Eagan?¡±

    Gulynia ducks her head, tail flicking with irritation at the mention of his name.

    At the lake with Versil and Shienon. He¡¯s resilient and it¡¯s bothering me.

    I don¡¯t comment, because even though I explain he¡¯s a dragon morph, she cannot accept that this makes him powerful and harder to kill, so she likes and detests testing his durability.

    They ripple into thin air, camouflaging effortlessly with ease, and I set off again, my headache pounding around my eyeballs with a vengeance. The woods are deceptively calm as I move through them. I know every nook and cranny. Every herb, flower, mushroom, and root to be picked. Every hidden spot.

    I know the trees are the biggest gossips, acting like prying elderly neighbours looking for news and information. Nosy tendrils of roots and branches stretch towards me as I walk, seeking to hear of anything interesting. It used to unnerve me, but now I chatter mindlessly to the trees, telling them stories about my day or Everlette Academy. Today I grace them with my worries over the upcoming Arcane Symphony Ball, where Everlette Academy is hosting this year, and other academy students from all over will attend. Professor Chambers is hounding me to join in somehow with my magic, but I¡¯m wary. Other squadrons are eager for the opportunity, and Professor Chambers clear like for me is earning me more glares than usual.

    It wouldn¡¯t be that bad if that were all, but even Professor Oaklore is hounding me, so I¡¯m the most disliked student at Everlette Academy now.

    ¡°I don¡¯t even want to go,¡± I mutter to the trees, ¡°I don¡¯t wear dresses, and I don¡¯t want trouble. The Arcane Symphony Ball has both those things.¡±

    There¡¯s a crunch of a twig, and I clutch my knife at my hip out of habit, before seeing Eagan come into view.

    Annoyingly, he¡¯s as lickable as ever.

    His raven black hair is longer now, more roguish. He¡¯s also soaked, so his usual all black attire is clinging to all parts of him in a delicious display of yum. My breath feels shallow as he approaches, all burgundy smoulder and pissed off. Somehow, I like his anger. It feels justified somehow, though I won¡¯t ever admit it. I¡¯m not meant to feel guilty, ashamed or anything, but I do. I feel unsure, anxious, and embarrassed about it all. I feel like he¡¯s been far more indifferent and able to move on than I expected, and it irks me that I¡¯m still stuck on what happened.

    ¡°Margo,¡± he greets, eyes narrowed, ¡°I see you¡¯ve come to talk to them. Again. On my behalf no doubt.¡±

    I shrug, feigning indifference, but I feel stiff and unnatural.

    ¡°As I should. They are my responsibility,¡± I respond, averting my eyes.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    Silence falls between us, as it always does. I force myself to look at him, to pretend I¡¯m not still thinking about what he felt like inside me.  Or how often I think about it. At what I should have said or done instead. That I should have just looked at him without issue, losing myself to the throes of passion or whatever shit people always whisper about.

    ¡°Well, Versil and Shienon were with you,¡± I babble, ¡°Bamer is somewhere, but I¡¯ve already spoken to Reoa and Gulynia.¡±

    Eagan doesn¡¯t move. It doesn¡¯t even look like he¡¯s breathing.

    ¡°Which one dunked me?¡±

    I smile blandly, my eyes a little hard with warning.

    ¡°I will not say.¡±

    His eyes observe me, taking me in with a slow languid keenness that makes me shrivel up. I¡¯m wearing my usual blue embroidered shirt with long sleeves, and my tatty trousers and leather boots. I look practical and sensible, but when he looks at me like that, I want to look like someone else entirely.

    ¡°Professor Chambers wants you again,¡± he finally says, his tone measured, ¡°Something about the firework display he wants you to orchestrate.¡±

    My smile vanishes.

    The firework display is a prominent feature of the Arcane Symphony Ball and is renowned throughout the history of Everlette Academy for being the most grandiose and impressive event of the evening. The academy aims to showcase its prestige and superiority over other institutions through this spectacular presentation. Appointing me, rather than the child of a significant sponsor, could cause considerable discontent among not only the students but also their influential parents.

    ¡°You¡¯re the only one fluent enough to achieve it,¡± he tells me, eyeing my expression, ¡°If you can magic up a banquet for us every night, do the dorm repairs, and magic things out of thin air, you can make fireworks- ¡°

    I press my lips firmly together, trying not to acknowledge that both Versil and Shienon are either side of him, completely camouflaged apart from their giant floating heads. They look similar, but Versil is more silver-blue whereas Shienon is silver-lilac and paler, and they are currently giving me their best wild-eyed stares with massive snarling grins. Sucking in my cheeks to keep from laughing, Eagan gives me a sidelong look.

    ¡°Are you laughing at me?¡±

    I shake my head slowly.

    ¡°Nope. Not at all. Please, continue,¡± I manage to say, but then snort when Versil unrolls his long tongue out, shaking his head dramatically, his scales fluttering.

    Eagan stares at me. It occurs to me that he¡¯s probably never had a woman laugh at him.  As a dragon morph, he¡¯s had to endure comments and unfair treatment, but women usually melt under his eyes like butter under dragon fire. I can see I¡¯ve stumped him, because instead of saying anything further he gives me a bewildered look and walks away, striding past me with agitation etched across his features.

    Versil and Shienon ripple into being once he¡¯s moved far enough away, looking gleefully unaware of my annoyance. The two of them are the pranksters of the five, majestic and divine looking in theory, but complete gremlins.

    He¡¯s been coming to the lake more often than usual, Versil comments deftly, avoiding my glare, we¡¯ve been eagerly awaiting to try new things, but the circumstances need to be right.

    Very true, the context is most important.  It must work perfectly. A perfect sequence, Shienon pipes up, unfurling her wings excitedly, how about we chase him again?

    ¡°No one is chasing anyone,¡± I shout, ¡°Gods, this stress is going to make me bald.¡±

    You wouldn¡¯t look good bald, Shienon gasps, drawing back, you must meditate immediately, in the lake. Where Eagan got dunked.

    How do you even discipline a dragon?

    I look up at Versil and Shienon, an idea forms, and I splay my hands out, hoping to the gods their magic won¡¯t cancel out mine. They tilt their heads, amused, and confused, before I mutter a simplified incantation that I¡¯ve overheard Linden use on his sisters when they¡¯ve been unruly. I mind map how to weave the spell, focusing on infusing the layers to strengthen a shield to withhold them.

    Versil gives me a stunned look, his head weaving in quarrel.

    You can¡¯t do that! We¡¯re free beings!

    ¡°You are free beings,¡± I agree, suppressing my guilt, ¡°But you''ve caused trouble. You''re in time-out for fifteen minutes to reflect on why you shouldn''t worsen things with Eagan or prank people.¡±

    Shienon lets out an indignant wail, tail lashing against the shield. It simply glistens and ripples, iridescent and unaffected.

    Then what about Gulynia? She challenges, her silvery-blue eyes pinning me, does she get to be caged?

    ¡°Don¡¯t make this sound abusive, you¡¯ve literally been naughty, come on!¡± I huff, and then pause, my eyes adjusting to the shadow looming towards us.

    My senses tingle, and I drop my hands, the spell fading into a thin mist over the forest floor. I hear the branches slithering and coiling in the canopy overhead and in the soil below, an eerie sound as the shadow takes form as a man in the distance.

    Versil and Shienon disappear, melting into the air, but they¡¯re nearby.

    ¡°I thought I was the only one in the woods,¡± calls the man, and my ears prick with awareness that his voice is deep chocolate velvet, all smooth tones and sleepy amorousness.

    My eyes narrow as he steps out the shadows.

    He¡¯s a dragon morph, but no one I¡¯ve ever seen. I take in the glorious bronze-gold curls that coil about his shoulders, and the deeply tanned skin, blemish free. He¡¯s taller than Eagan, broader and more hulking, but with a disarming smile of white teeth and gleaming golden eyes.

    Smiling as he is, I¡¯m still trying to pinpoint why my magic is recoiling from him as though repulsed. He¡¯s certainly not as dark and serious as Eagan, but I feel like I can¡¯t trust him.

    ¡°Well, it¡¯s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Radon Glimmerfell, I¡¯m a first-year student looking for the other dragon morph. Your squadron leader, Eagan Maverick,¡± he tells me, cheery despite my unease, ¡°I want to be friends and hopefully get accepted into squadron thirteen when the time comes.¡±

    ¡°For a first-year you¡¯re built like a shithouse,¡± I comment frankly, ¡°Why doesn¡¯t my magic like you?¡±

    He blinks, smile still in place but frozen now.

    His smile drops a beat later, and his once cheery face becomes hard and annoyed. Ah. Of course. I hear Versil and Shienon inch closer, their bodies radiating heat as they step between me and Radon. Even the trees wind their branches towards him in a slithering warning, their movement hissing through the undergrowth.  Radon observes with an impatient scowl.

    ¡°Okay,¡± he snarls, his handsome face contorting, ¡°Fine. You¡¯re not as dumb as I was hoping. We¡¯re here for the dragons. Dragons should be with the bloodlines they blessed, and so should be with the dragon morphs. We need them. What would a fae like you be able to do with them? Keep them safe?¡±

    He pulls a face, opening his mouth to continue, but I hold a hand up.

    ¡°We?¡± I question, ¡°We¡¯re here for the dragons, you said?¡±

    He cocks his head to the side.

    ¡°Did you really think you could have them?¡± he laughs, ¡°Keep them away from their nature? They¡¯re lightning struck. They are meant for greater things.¡±

    Sensing where this is heading, I don¡¯t bother to explain they¡¯re protected. I don¡¯t argue that I¡¯ve cared for them since freshly hatched next to their dead mother.  I don¡¯t mention they¡¯ve imprinted on me because he knows those things. He knows, and that¡¯s why he lied before, and that¡¯s why he wanted Eagan.

    ¡°How do you plan to steal them?¡± I ask instead.

    I sound calmer than I look. I can feel the tremor running through my fingers, and I can feel his eyes narrow on the pulse pounding in my neck.

    ¡°We gave him a year to convince you. Gave him time. Then, suddenly, he tells us he can¡¯t join our cause anymore,¡± Radon tells me, a smile growing when he sees he¡¯s struck a nerve, ¡°Oh, baby girl. Did you really think that night was meant to be special? He was using you for us- ¡°

    Versil growls in warning, silencing him, and Shienon whips her tail at the space just before his feet. Radon¡¯s eyes widen, his body frozen as he scans the air around him, searching for the very dragons he means to take from me.

    ¡°That night was never meant to be special,¡± I sigh, glaring at him, ¡°I¡¯m very aware that I was the one girl in the dorm that could scratch the itch. You mean to tell me he went in heat on purpose, just to fuck me and use me to get access to my dragons?¡±

    Radon¡¯s gaze whips up to mine.

    ¡°What do you mean, he went into heat?¡±

    I don¡¯t answer, because Versil and Shienon have both shifted. Versil rests his tail on my shoulder, like a comforting pat.

    He was in heat?

    Not wanting to answer aloud in front of Radon, I give a brief nod. I had not included that part in our conversations because it did not seem necessary. I was available and interested, so I tried to accommodate it, but I am aware that I failed and caused discomfort over the past year. I chose not to add details that might portray me negatively. We are all informed about how uncomfortable heat can be and advised to avoid dragon morphs during such times. The academy provides stabilisers as a precaution.

    Radon makes a noise of dismay, swearing colourfully.

    ¡°That makes more fucking sense. Fucking¡­you,¡± he hisses, pointing, ¡°Did he come to you?¡±

    Flustered, my mouth opens and offers silence, but he takes it as confirmation.

    ¡°And you fucked?¡±

    Versil and Shienon growl again, but Radon barely acknowledges it this time, more intent on discovering the ins and out of my sexual encounter with Eagan.

    "We started," I say, losing my composure, "It wasn''t completed, per se."

    He pales, causing my sense of guilt and embarrassment to intensify significantly. He regards me in a manner I imagine others would if they were aware of the situation, with astonished confusion. It seems inevitable that he will eventually feel repulsed. Everyone will be repulsed if they knew. That I offered to help Eagan Maverick through his heat and completely, utterly messed it up.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to talk about it,¡± I mutter angrily, but Radon laughs again.

    ¡°Oh, we are talking about it. He was in heat with you, and it was never finished? Do you know what that means? What that means for our cause?¡±

    I¡¯m lost and confused, embarrassed and wanting nothing more than to disappear.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not talking about it, and my dragons can eat you now, unless you, you know, fuck off and leave me and my sexual past alone, thank you very much!¡± I shout.

    Versil and Shienon ripple out of their camouflage, eyeing me with a strange intensity I have never seen them wear before.

    Yeah, no, we¡¯re taking you to Eagan, Versil tells me, flicking his tail and flinging Radon back, there is a lot for us to apologise for.

    I barely have time to register what is happening before Shienon flings me over onto her back, giving a short command to hold on. I grip onto her horns, throwing my head back to where Radon had landed. The roots are claiming him, pulling him deep into the soil, and I shudder with unease. There are worse deaths than becoming plant food, but it¡¯s still pretty shitty.

    Dragons don¡¯t much like the winding vines and thorns of brambles and shrubbery, so Versil blasts a path of scorching fire in front as Shienon and I follow from behind. I grimace at the embers, but I can hear the trees knitting things back into place as we move forward.

    ¡°Can anyone explain to me what¡¯s going on?¡± I ask Shienon, adjusting my grasp on her scales.

    She continues to plough ahead, though her long tail slaps lightly on my thigh in acknowledgment before she finally answers.

    Eagan was in heat with you and you only. It never stopped. We thought he was having a tough time with someone else, as sometimes we get that scent, but no. It is you. You¡¯re hi. ate.

    My hands tighten on her scales, at a loss.

    Bullshit. I call steaming hot, rancid bullshit.

    Eagan Maverick could not have me as his mate. Hot, serious, and dangerous Eagan, with me, clumsy, bland, and forgettable? It doesn¡¯t make sense. It didn¡¯t make sense when he approached me to begin with, and I thought his heat was activated by stress, not me being a suitable mate. It makes no sense.

    Shienon taps my thigh with her tail again.

    You okay there?

    I shake my head, silent as my thoughts run rampant.

    Is that why they¡¯re bringing me to him? Do they want us together because his heat demands it?

    Debating with myself over my new circumstances, I hardly notice as we exit the forest until Reoa and Gulynia are beside us, keeping pace as Versil and Shienon provide the relevant information. Gulynia rears her head back, running easily on two legs as she shakes her entire body, her scales rippling with the movement before she flumps down again, her mouth a displeased snarl.

    So, we¡¯re stuck with the bastard, she huffs, casting me a sidelong look, How you holding up with the whole chosen mate thing?

    I stare at her mutely, shaking my head.

    The gravity of my revelation is hitting me at different intervals. Disbelief. Denial. Embarrassment to learn that something so precious and held as sacred was ruined for him, because I was too flustered by a bit of eye contact. I¡¯m also confused.

    Radon mentioned a cause that required the use of my dragons, and that Eagan had refused to join their cause. The original plan was to use me and my dragons all along. The heat simply got in the way of that, complicating the process. I complicated something, thankfully, or else where would we be right now if I fell to his charms and my dragons were taken, but to think that¡¯s what he was going to do originally? I feel betrayed and foolish all at once.

    He had originally planned to use me.

    His room near mine? It wasn¡¯t for the practical purpose of keeping an eye on us all because of the fucking stairs. It was to seduce me and fuck me. To brainwash me into helpless dicked joy in the hopes of taking them from me. When he had knocked on my door that night, he was still reeling from discovering his heat had been triggered by my scent. He knocked on my door in the hopes it played in his favour.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to see him.¡±

    Shienon throws a look at me from over her shoulder, and upon seeing my expression slows to a trot, before finally stopping altogether. The others look back, impatient to hurry to my mate, but I shake my head.

    I can¡¯t look at him. To think I was only a means to an end, despite being his mate. He knocked on my door and knew everything. He knew what he wanted to achieve. It¡¯s worse than me agreeing to sleep with him to help ease his symptoms. He wanted to use our bond against me to get what he wanted.

    ¡°We don¡¯t know what this cause is that Radon ranted about,¡± I begin, ¡°All we know is originally he meant to take you from me.¡±

    Reoa nudges my foot lightly, her narrow face looming towards me, insistent.

    But then he refused.

    ¡°But how can we trust him?¡± I counter, unconvinced.

    We still into a deep silence, unsure where this leaves us.

    I can see that the dragon in them wants to fulfil the heat of a dragon morph because it¡¯s their natural order of things, but they are conflicted with their loyalty to me.

    ¡°And where¡¯s Bamer?¡± I ask softly.

    I haven¡¯t seen him for the entire day.

    He¡¯s the quietest of the dragons. He mulls over his words, takes time to think and deliberate, and is a bit of an old soul.

    My question, however, is answered when in the distance, I see a glimmer of bronze erupt into the sky, met with a flash of deep magenta. Stunned, we watch. My fists clench onto Shienon¡¯s scales, expecting the worst, but as they near, I see that Bamer is flying alongside a dragon I have never seen before.  She¡¯s long and wiry like Gulynia, with a flash of azure colouring splayed over her underbelly and back. Her horns are short, but over the frill of her neck, is Eagan.

    My eyes do not leave his, my body stiff with trepidation, expecting anything.

    He looks worse for wear, still damp from earlier, but this time grimy with dirt and sweat. His eyes flicker over us, looking for something or someone.

    ¡°Radon is dead,¡± I call out, observing his reaction, ¡°The roots took him.¡±

    Eagan looks bewildered, his gaze flashing over me quickly, before catching my eyes and realisation sets in. Stilling, he looks away immediately.

    ¡°I knew you¡¯d find out eventually. I just wished you wouldn¡¯t,¡± he says softly, glancing at the large female dragon beside Bamer. ¡°I wanted to celebrate their bond with you first, but I sense you¡¯re not thrilled to be my mate.¡±

    I look at the female dragon, my suspicions confirmed.

    ¡°So, you¡¯ve had a secret dragon mated to mine, and didn¡¯t think to mention anything earlier?¡±

    I look at Bamer, but he says nothing.

    ¡°Her name is Tanmehga,¡± he says sternly, but then sighs in defeat, ¡°I had hoped it would soften you towards me.¡±

    I compose myself with considerable effort, suppressing my initial surge of anger.

    ¡°You mean after you meant to use me to get to my dragons, by sleeping with me?¡± I offer bitterly, giving him a chilled smile, ¡°By using me. You wanted to use me.¡±

    Eagan doesn¡¯t answer, but he doesn¡¯t get a chance to.

    There¡¯s an explosion up ahead, from our dormitory, causing our gazes to swing up and over the hill.

 Forced Bonds

    A thick plume of black smoke billows skywards, and vibrations rock the earth.  It¡¯s the fortification charms I had used to reinforce the protection shield projectors.  I had infused those charms for months, imbuing them daily, and now?  Something¡¯s happened, and Axel, Hugo and Linden are still there.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know the extent of your intentions,¡± I snarl at Eagan, ¡°But I¡¯ve got better things to do that don¡¯t include you, like saving our squadron members.  I don¡¯t know if you¡¯ve ever truly cared about the squadron- ¡°

    Eagan pins me with a look so dark I feel my bones shiver in retreat.

    ¡°You don¡¯t know a damn thing about me,¡± he shouts, his voice splitting the air.

    I swallow back my emotion, staring out towards the plume of smoke.

    ¡°You¡¯re right. I don¡¯t.¡±

    I nudge Shienon to move forwards, and we begin our fast march towards the chaos.  I give Bamer a long look as we move off, but I know better than to expect a mated dragon now bonded to be away from each other.  It pulls on their hearts.  Makes them ill.  It¡¯s a slow death to keep them separately.

    Instead, I give Bamer a nod, hoping to convey the depth of my feelings on my face.

    Eagan is shouting something, his voice loud, and no sooner had I glanced his way than a hand unexpectedly curls around my throat, crushing my windpipe.  Thrown from Shienon¡¯s back, I barely have time to register a floating form gliding above me.  It¡¯s a woman with long ebony hair, but I can¡¯t make out much more as my sight starts to blur.

    Unable to move, my body flares with pain at my abrupt crash landing.  There¡¯s chaos around me.

    There¡¯s a chorus of growls and snarls as I slowly inch myself into a sitting position, but my mind is foggy.  Hands grasp me, hauling me backwards and away from the commotion.  Hot breath breathes into my ear, and I catch the familiar scent of pheromones permeating the air.

    ¡°I have a lot to explain,¡± Eagan growls in my ear, and I stir at the panic in his voice, ¡°And though you don¡¯t trust me, I beg you to try.¡±

    I open my mouth to argue, but my words still as his hands flutter over my scalp, cursing.  My head does hurt.  It¡¯s sore and it feels wet.  There¡¯s a blur of red hands as Eagan wraps his arms around me, scurrying me backwards further until his back hits a tree. I gaze dazedly at the green canopy, warm tucked against the hard strength of his body.  It should disgust me, I realise dimly, but laying there, all I can really focus on through the pain and laboured breathing is his warmth.

    ¡°I could really use your magic right now, Margo,¡± he whispers.

    I¡¯m struck by how long it¡¯s been since he¡¯s spoken my name.

    He must be talking about healing magic.  Mine is faint, nowhere near useful compared to my practical magic.  I¡¯m dimly amused by how he could be thinking such things when suddenly I feel and hear the slithering of tree roots.  Closing my eyes, I¡¯m aware when the roots climb up my body.  I¡¯m aware when Eagan shouts at the roots for trying to take me, and I¡¯m aware when abruptly, I¡¯m immersed in white light.

    I wake later in a room that¡¯s dark and dank. It smells of smoke and rancid things, and there¡¯s a chill in the air but a scorching heat at my back.

    ¡°Keep still.¡±

    Eagan.

    Alert, I make a move to dart forward, but he holds fast, grunting when I fling an elbow into his ribs.  His grip doesn¡¯t let up, and when I pause for breath, I look around, seeing nothing but darkness and shadows.

    ¡°They caught us,¡± Eagan tells me, oddly composed, ¡°You¡¯re in dragon morph territory.  Your dragons are safe for now.  I¡¯ve got you.¡±

    I feel anything but safe.

    My body no longer hurts, oddly enough.  Despite the disgusting man at my back, I feel pretty good.  Refreshed. You know, even though I got flung to the ground by a flying crazy bitch.

    ¡°Who the fuck was that?¡± I croak, throat dry.

    He knows exactly who I¡¯m talking about.  He shifts, hands gentle as he sweeps my hair back.  My veins slither in repulsion, and I grasp the knife at my hip, flipping the tip until it points up between his ribs.

    ¡°They say the way to a man¡¯s heart is his stomach,¡± I growl in warning, ¡°But I prefer between the ribs.  Much more efficient.¡±

    Eagan doesn¡¯t react.  Doesn¡¯t flinch.

    ¡°That flying crazy bitch is my mother,¡± he admits softly, albeit reluctantly.

    I inch the knife higher, and this time he grasps the hilt in warning, his lips at my ear.

    ¡°She is hateful,¡± he tells me, forcing the knife out my hand, ¡°She knows who you are to me and that you refuse the cause taking flight because you deny us the dragons.¡±

    I try to elbow him again, but he grasps both arms down and tight to my sides.

    ¡°Then I am equally as hateful,¡± I tell him.

    He laughs.

    ¡°You could never.¡±

    We sit in silence for a bit.  Now my eyes have adjusted, I can make out the bars holding us captive.  We¡¯re sat on a flat stone bed made up of thin sheets, and that¡¯s hopefully the only reason he refuses to let go of me.

    ¡°The tree roots?¡± I ask finally, my body stiff from nervous tension.

    Eagan makes a move to touch my hair again, but then seems to think better of it.

    ¡°Healed you.  It seems you have a natural affinity for wood magic, or they just really like you,¡± he answers simply.

    ¡°Axel, Hugo and Linden?¡±

    My voice breaks, because I might very well break if they¡¯re gone.  They¡¯re the brothers and family I¡¯ve never had before joining squadron thirteen, and I have no strength left in me to handle their deaths.

    ¡°Over here.¡±

    I jolt, hearing Hugo¡¯s unimpressed voice from the far corner of the cell we¡¯re stuck in.

    He doesn¡¯t look good.  All three of them are battered, bruised and look about as lively as rocks.  They all three look uncomfortable with how Eagan is sitting with me, and my cheeks flood with colour.

    Linden holds up a hand, his fair features marred with dirt.

    ¡°We¡¯re heard plenty about the heat and dragon mating,¡± he imparts flatly, ¡°His mother is religious about it.  Wants him to do it under ceremony in celebration.¡±

    I try to lunge forward, and this time Eagan lets go of me, sighing heavily.  He gives Linden a frustrated look, but Linden glares back, his stubborn jaw set. Axel strides over to me and holds me to him, casting a dark look at Eagan before ushering me to their corner, standing protectively at my back to shield me from view.

    ¡°I don¡¯t want to do anything under ceremony,¡± Eagan argues, his gaze wary, ¡°I would never do anything like that to Margo.¡±

    Axel and Hugo stand in front of me, arms crossed, and Linden, short as he is, stands further in front, his poise undeterred and unmoving.  Axel and Hugo may be the big muscle-bound warriors, but Linden has a hard edge to him that comes from being an older brother used to protecting his sisters.

    ¡°But you do want her,¡± Linden counters, and I peer between Axel and Hugo at Eagan¡¯s face.

    His eyes find mine, and I look away, unnerved.

    ¡°Yes.  She is my mate.¡±

    Axel makes an impatient sound, disgusted.

    ¡°She¡¯s not your fucking anything after this.  She has a say in what she wants.  She has control over this, and that means that if she does not want you near her, you don¡¯t fucking touch her,¡± he thunders, and I¡¯m appreciative of his fierce protection and support.

    I feel so wary and far stretched that I¡¯m wavering on my feet, unable to get my bearings.  They¡¯re still arguing, so I grasp at a thin blanket and haul it over my shoulders, trying to calm myself.  Hugo puts a hand on my shoulder, his eyes full of compassion and understanding.

    "This is a difficult time," he says, wrapping another blanket around me, "but we will keep you safe, ¡°If anything, I¡¯m more frightened of his mother.¡±

    I nod, remembering the horrifying moment my windpipe had been crushed, and I had been flung from Shienon¡¯s back.  Memory of the pain makes my body ache.  I swallow to push the memories away, to focus on the now, and turn my gaze up to him.

    ¡°She was in here?¡± I ask, shivering.

    Hugo nods, though his face clouds.

    ¡°Unfortunately. There¡¯s a lot I wish she hadn¡¯t told us, that needed to be said.  Yet, she¡¯s unhinged.  Impulsive.  She threatens us regularly and tells Eagan to complete his mating.  I have to say, I¡¯m glad he had you in his arms.  She wouldn¡¯t risk harming you when you were in his arms.¡±

    He informed me about the situation. The dormitory had been reduced to rubble and dust. She had easily breached the protection shield projectors and my fortifications, and after searching for me and Eagan, she left, only to return shortly with me unconscious and injured, and Eagan carrying me. Apparently, the protection shields projectors served a secondary purpose that I had not realised. They were old travel posts for teleportation, and she moved them to dragon morph territory effortlessly, placing them in the cell and explaining why we were there and what she expected from us.

    It''s been days, and they¡¯re kept as separate from Eagan as possible, unsure what to make of his part in all this, and why his mother was so intent on us fulfilling the mating process.

    I shiver again.

    ¡°I thought she only wanted my dragons?¡± I whisper to Hugo, grateful that he¡¯s keeping me informed.

    ¡°She does.  Your dragons are the strength she needs, or so she says.  But she¡­¡± He frowns, throwing a cautious look towards Eagan, ¡°I think they look alike.  She looks high status.¡±

    Puzzled, I try to remember what she had looked like.  Ebony hair.  Could fly.  Is Eagan¡¯s mother.

    Glancing at Eagan, I jolt with unease when I find his eyes are already on me.

    ¡°Who is she?  Apart from just being your mother?¡± I ask.

    The four of us stare at him expectantly, but he looks away.

    ¡°What are you hiding?¡± Linden demands, scowling, ¡°We deserve to know what¡¯s going on.  Margo got thrown off her dragon and nearly died.  We deserve to know.¡±

    I glance at Hugo, not realising how close to death I had been, but he just shakes his head mutely, his gaze intent on Eagan.

    ¡°You do deserve to know,¡± Eagan agrees, his face dark, ¡°I don¡¯t know how to say it.  I don¡¯t want to say it.  It¡¯s bad enough as it is, and I¡¯m reluctant to worsen the situation further.  What we need to do is find a way out.¡±

    Axel storms forward.

    ¡°We?  What part of this means we¡¯ll be escaping with you?¡±

    Eagan stands, meeting Axel in the middle of the cell, gripping the front of his shirt and lifting him off the ground.

    ¡°The part where I¡¯m not leaving Margo here,¡± Eagan snarls, and then freezes, his face a mask of panic, ¡°Margo, you need to get behind me.¡±

    There¡¯s the sound of a door opening, and the clicking of heels.  Eagan sets Axel down, his eyes finding mine with an imploring look.  He motions me to come to him, but in what world would I trust him now?  I weigh my options as the steps edge closer.  Hugo and Axel step in front of me, and Linden warns Eagan to keep away from us.  I feel safe with my squadron around me, or as safe as I can in dragon morph territory with Eagan¡¯s crazy mother.

    When she comes into view I¡¯m peering between Axel and Hugo, and I¡¯m caught off guard by the similarity between them.  She¡¯s all ebony black hair, tanned unblemished skin and burgundy eyes.  She¡¯s beautiful and otherworldly, but there¡¯s a hard glint to her face despite her smile.

    ¡°And how are my guests?¡± she asks somewhat sweetly, peering between Axel and Hugo to see me, ¡°I don¡¯t smell consummation in the air, Eagan.  Why delay the inevitable?¡±

    Her gaze sweeps to Eagan, the expression hardening.

    ¡°Must I separate the bonded dragons?¡± she enquires, her gaze finding me again, ¡°Or should I start removing fingers and toes?¡±

    Pushing forward before I can think better of it, I feel Axel and Hugo try to hold me back, but I¡¯ve already slipped through.

    ¡°You mean to torture the very dragons you wish to use?¡±

    Her laughter resonates in the air, resembling the clear, melodious sound of bells.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s his dragon too, which is why I¡¯m flummoxed over why he hasn¡¯t mounted you yet, little sweet,¡± she replies, striding to stand before me, ¡°If he just deposits the required means in you, we can move on to the real plan.¡±

    I blink, pretty flummoxed myself as I understand what ¡®required means¡¯ entails.  My cheeks colour at her bold demands.  She talks as if it¡¯s expected and normal.  As if in the time we¡¯ve been locked in a cell we would have thrown caution to the wind, mounting each other like crazed rabbits with an audience.

    ¡°You won¡¯t get any cooperation from my dragons.  Not without my say so,¡± I tell her firmly, choosing to ignore her previous statement.

    She laughs again, sounding unhinged.

    ¡°You can¡¯t deny me.  This is all what fate has decided.  I am the queen of the dragon morph kingdom, and that there is my bastard son Eagan.  If he needs his heat fulfilling, you better spread those skinny white legs and do it, or I will start taking fingers and toes.¡±

    As if on command, the shadows within the cell swarm into figures, grasping at Hugo, Axel and Linden, blades flashing as suddenly, they all have a knife at their throat.  A shadow captures my wrists, and a flash of pain erupts down my hand as my little finger gets cleanly sliced off.  It was so sudden and abrupt that at first the pain felt as though I had simply caught it against something, or trapped it in a door, but upon seeing the digit fall limp and bloodied on the ground my pain seems to intensify all at once, as though confronted with the reality awakened my pain receptors tenfold.

    Eagan is at my side, his face flushed with anger as he grips the bleeding digit and proceeds to wrap it to stem the bleeding.  No sound leaves me, apart from heavy breathing.  I glare at her.  At her deeply bejewelled gown shimmering with elaborate embroidery and golden threads.  At her sick amusement as she stares at my reaction.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°You want me to fuck him that bad?¡± I ask her, my voice thick with pain, ¡°Fine.  I¡¯ll fuck him.  You leave my friends alone, and you leave my dragons alone.¡±

    Eagan stills at my side before dragging a hand down his face.  The shadows retreat, and Linden reaches for Axel, swearing at the line of blood beading there.  My own anger ebbs and flows in time with the agony of having a finger sliced off, but the queen is no longer smiling.

    ¡°Of course you are.  It is the way it will be.  And then I¡¯ll have my dragons,¡± she tells me, her eyes narrowed on Eagan, ¡°I think I¡¯ll plan the ceremony for tonight, so that we may all witness the royal mounting of the future queen.  Perhaps a babe will be inside you before the human kingdom is taken, yes?  You better eat well then.  You have breeding to do.¡±

    Eagan fixes her with a dark glare, standing up abruptly.

    ¡°We will not have the ceremony.  I will not have a fucking circus witness something that¡¯s supposed to be sacred.  She¡¯s scared.  She¡¯s bleeding.  She does not want me,¡± he roars, shaking the bars, ¡°I will not make this worse for her than it already is.  We will succeed, but by our means, not yours.¡±

    His mother smiles again, a broad smile full of teeth, before reaching out and pinching his cheek.

    ¡°See to it that you do,¡± she says smugly, pursing her lips in mock pity, ¡°By the end of the week.  I¡¯ll transfer the two of you to a lovely chamber built for newlyweds, though¡­you¡¯re not yet married by dragon morph standards.  Still time for that too.¡±

    My skin crawls, but the adrenaline must have kicked in, as now the pain is dulled.  Instead, I¡¯m overwhelmed with the need for her to get as far away from me as possible.  My eyes stare at the bloodied cloth wrapped around the stump where my little finger had been, and I peer up at Hugo, Axel and Linden, seeing the line of blood on Axel¡¯s neck with a new wave of rage. I shudder, using my right hand to cast a glow to warm myself, and with a quick twist and flick of my good wrist I draw a thick brick wall down, shuttering her out from our cell, and it lands with a ground rumbling slam, wafting dust into the air.

    Panting, I magic up torchlight and a fire, a basic toilet with a wall for privacy, and an array of food with bowls for each one of us.

    ¡°Everyone eat,¡± I murmur, fatigued, ¡°Whatever we have to deal with, we should be well fed enough to be ready.¡±

    Hugo throws a blanket across my shoulders again, muttering as he turns my left hand over carefully to inspect the damage, and Axel and Linden hurry to the food, ladling out a hot bowl of soup for me.  Eagan stands motionless by the wall I¡¯ve erected and doesn¡¯t stir until I start to stand.  When he comes to my side I slap him away.

    ¡°You keep away from me until we have to do it,¡± I snap at him, using my good hand to shove him, ¡°This is all your fault.  If you weren¡¯t at Everlette Academy, if I had never been on this squadron¡­I¡¯m plain and ugly and this shit should not be happening.  I was meant to marry someone humble and kind.  I was meant to be loved, at least a little, but all my experiences will be with you, and it kills me.  It kills me and I don¡¯t want it to be you.¡±

    My voice breaks, and my shoulders heave as tears overwhelm me.  Eagan¡¯s face loses all emotion, becoming a hard mask.

    Linden ushers me to the corner to eat, pressing the bowl gently between my hands.

    ¡°When you¡¯re ready, focus some healing into that finger,¡± he tells me, ¡°For now, just eat and sleep when you can.¡±

    It¡¯s easier said than done, but I do as he says.

    The soup is hot, a steaming bowl of beefy potatoes, vegetables and strips of meat.  It¡¯s my go to magic meal; the easiest to conjure up.  It¡¯s what I lived on growing up, and it¡¯s what I would make when there was no food left at Everlette Academy dining hall.  Only the elite would eat first, and they ate more than their fair share.

    This soup is my comfort, and as I shovel it in my face I will the comfort to wash over me, but it never comes.

    ¡°Why is she so focused on your heat being fulfilled,¡± Linden asks Eagan, breaking the tense silence, ¡°She is obsessed by it.¡±

    I glance up.

    Eagan is at the far wall on his own again, his back to us, arms crossed.

    ¡°My father fulfilled their heat, but he then denied her and consequently, myself. She has no patience for refusal to fulfil the heat.  She knows how it feels to go without.¡±

    His words are matter of fact, but there¡¯s a hollowness to them that I find unnerving.

    ¡°But it¡¯s...rape,¡± Axel interjects, his face a hard mixture of worry and revulsion.

    Eagan turns, barely enough to acknowledge the statement, but his eyes manage to find mine across the room.

    ¡°Margo has full control over how it will go,¡± He says aloud, but it feels like he¡¯s talking to me and me only, ¡°She decides everything.¡±

    My traitor of a body flutters, and I shake off the fleeting moment of arousal, turning away and focusing on my soup with absolute concentration.

    However, I can never be quiet with my loathing.

    ¡°If I¡¯m in full control, it wouldn¡¯t be you,¡± I mutter darkly.

    ¡°But it is me,¡± He answers quietly, ¡°As much as you hate me, you¡¯re stuck with me.¡±

    I grimace, accidentally nudging my stump against the bowl.

    Axel makes a sound of distress, Linden having to take him aside.  Hugo simply stares at Eagan, his gaze calculating and sharp.

    ¡°You don¡¯t like this either,¡± Hugo states.

    Eagan stares at him for a long moment.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like the circumstances, no,¡± he clarifies, and then sighs, ¡°I don¡¯t like how my mother is behaving.  Nor the fact we¡¯re all here.  Or that Margo looks at me with disgust.  I don¡¯t like any of this.¡±

    I flinch, looking away, my cheeks heating with the accusation.  It¡¯s true though.  I¡¯ve not looked at him with a appalled expression since Radon appeared.

    ¡°Do you care for her?¡± Hugo asks, splitting the uneasy silence once again, ¡°Not just because of the heat?  In general.¡±

    Remaining composed, I distance myself from the discussion. There is no romantic involvement between us. While I find him attractive, there are no feelings of love, liking, or genuine care. It is simply a one-sided attraction based on physical appeal.  Unfortunately, his heat is a bitch and wants to mate him to me forever.

    Unfortunately, for the safety of us all and the dragons, I must do it.

    ¡°Does it matter?¡±

    I close my eyes.

    Eagan¡¯s answer is barely audible, but I hear it in the silence in the cell.  He sounds defeated, and it¡¯s exactly how I feel.  His response settles in my bones like a chill, confirming once again that I, Margo Earthen, is never going to charm the likes of Eagan Maverick.  Not that I¡¯d want to, but it would be nice if there was some softness to him.  Some kind of gentle side where it wouldn¡¯t feel so wrong to be forced into an intimate act with him.

    How am I going to go about it?

    Finishing my soup grimly, I ponder the best way to fulfil his heat with the least amount of vulnerability, embarrassment and coercion.  My stump throbs again, raw in the cold air as my gaze lingers ahead at the wall I had erected.  I could always tie him up and blind fold him so he can¡¯t touch me as he likes or make me look at him?  I would think about from behind, but after last time it was far too intense and was the reason why we had to change positions.

    My eyes feel heavy after a time of contemplating, and it feels like it takes eons to blink, and then abruptly, I¡¯m in a bed.

    Frozen, I peer above me at the new ceiling of startling white mouldings of dragons, before realising that there¡¯s sunlight streaming through a large window.  Sitting up, I eye the clean luscious blankets and the new nightdress hugging my figure with trepidation.

    Teleportation?  While I was sleeping?

    I feel as though I was only just awake.

    There¡¯s a dressing table with an intricate white mirror embellished with silver and rubies, and I catch my reflection with stunned horror.  Next to me, his obsidian black hair rumpled, is Eagan.  He¡¯s not moving, and when I swing my gaze down to study him, he¡¯s breathing soundly, his chest rising and falling steadily.

    The fawning girl inside me is weak, wide-eyed over his softened features.

    The betrayed bitch in me, however, smacks him across the head to wake him up, before bolting out of bed and creating distance between us.

    ¡°That hurt,¡± Eagan deadpans, his eyes settling on me through his drowsiness.

    I glare at him, annoyed that my body still insists on reacting to him.  He¡¯s sexy.  His hair is everywhere, and whoever put us here, made sure to leave him bare chested and glorious.

    ¡°Your mother did this?¡± I guess, crossing my arms as he sits up.

    The blankets pool down to his hips, which for whatever reason, look suspiciously bare.  Eagan catches my gaze, realising his state of undress, before thankfully covering himself.

    ¡°Probably,¡± he grunts, his gaze lowered, ¡°The clothing too, I¡¯m guessing.¡±

    I look down at the nightdress, and then grip a heavy velvet curtain, wrapping it around myself for coverage.  It¡¯s barely a dress.  It¡¯s white sheer lace, looking like nothing more than spiderweb thin threads.  It frames my non-existent cleavage, and barely covers the tops of my thighs. He must have gotten an eyeball of pink areola.

    ¡°Gods,¡± I swear heatedly, wrapping the curtain tighter, ¡°What kind of magic does she have?¡±

    He stands, dragging the blankets with him in a makeshift robe.

    ¡°It¡¯s not all her.  She has various people doing the work for her.  She can fly.  She is strong.  She influences the shadows.  She can teleport easily herself, but I¡¯ve never known her to teleport people to a new location and then change their clothing, not without the use of travel posts. Someone is working with her.¡±

    I stare at him.

    We both know why she¡¯s put us here, but we needn¡¯t be surprised.  It¡¯s exactly what she said she would do, and now?  We must hold up our end of the deal before the week is over.

    I try to manage my breathing, but the draft from the window warns me I¡¯m without underwear and my arse is bare.  Completely bare.  Not only must he had seen the pink of my areola¡¯s, but he must have seen the thicket of hair between my legs too.

    ¡°Well,¡± I try to say, my voice faint, ¡°Shall we?¡±

    Eagan gives me a bewildered stare, before his brows lower into a frown.

    ¡°Not when you¡¯re gripping the curtain like you¡¯re a pure maiden scared for her virginity,¡± he states tartly, and moves away, ¡°I said you¡¯re in control.  I¡¯m not going to touch you.¡±

    He sits on the edge of the bed facing me, letting the blanket slip from his shoulder and pool at his waist.  His gaze holds challenge, but I¡¯m too chicken to take the bait.  I remember every second of the last time he touched me.  Of how he tasted between my legs.  Parted me to see how he fit inside me.  How he wanted me to look at him.

    It did feel good.

    But it was intense.

    And it¡¯s Eagan.

    My fingers fidget along the curtain, my mind making war.

    He¡¯s seen it all before.  Literally.  While there¡¯s nothing especially wrong with my body, there¡¯s nothing especially right with it either.  Not that it stopped his tongue doing things to me that I never imagined a man would do to me.

    ¡°It¡¯s too bright in here.¡±

    He blinks at me, and I reach carefully for the other curtain, drawing it closed. With a deep breath, I let the material fall away, stepping out from the curtain and adjusting it closed properly behind me, keeping the light out.

    I can still make him out in the dark, as it¡¯s bright outside and it¡¯s turned the room into a dark shade of grey rather than my much-preferred pitch black.

    Eagan is motionless as I carefully make my way forward.  My hands wring together anxiously, and for all my bravado and hatred, I¡¯m still shy and awkward about sex.  I almost jolt back when his hand comes out to soothe over my hands, his skin meltingly warm over my frozen digits.

    ¡°Your finger,¡± he murmurs, and I realise that the stump is cleanly healed.

    Not even a bruise or a scab.

    ¡°It would get in the way if it still hurt,¡± I answer lamely, imagining what the queen would plan for things to go smoothly, ¡°She thought of everything.¡±

    I flinch when his fingers ghost over my wrists.  His fingers drop away.

    ¡°Am I supposed to call you by your title?¡± I ask abruptly, ¡°Prince Eagan?  Your Highness?  Your royal¡­?¡±

    ¡°Just Eagan.¡±

    Nodding, I eye his hands.  I don¡¯t want him to touch me.  If he touches me, I¡¯ll get all breathless and anxious and I need to get this done.  Closing my eyes, I untie the ribbon from my waist, my cheeks flooding with colour when I realise it¡¯s not a nightdress, but a robe.  It hangs open, draping over my breasts, and Eagan¡¯s eyes fixate on the strip of flesh exposed.

    ¡°Close your eyes,¡± I say quickly, fumbling to tie his hands, ¡°Keep them closed.¡±

    He obeys, mute, but I hear his intake of breath as I tie his hands.  My eyes narrow, but I don¡¯t comment, instead scanning the room for something to cover his eyes.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡±

    ¡°Shush,¡± I hiss, opening a drawer and finding a long white stocking, ¡°Just sit there and don¡¯t move.¡±

    Quietly and quickly, I wrap the stocking over his eyes, and it must be my imagination, but the tips of his ears are red.

    ¡°You¡¯re not going to¡­¡±

    His words trail off, and I¡¯m hesitating, eyeing him with a mixture of arousal and unease.  Nerves are making my hands shake.

    ¡°Margo?  Talk to me.¡±

    I clamp my hand over his mouth impulsively and regret it instantly.  I can feel the heat and size of him this close.  The scent of pheromones hits me strong, heady and demanding, making my thighs slick with moisture.

    Eagan holds so still when I mount him that I remove my hand just to hear him breathe.  My robe trails down his chest, and his chest heaves and then shudders as my skin brushes against his.  He feels amazing.  I could stab him right now, but it won¡¯t be as pleasing as just enjoying how he feels.

    ¡°If it¡¯s alright with you,¡± I say quietly, moving my knees either side of him for better leverage, ¡°I¡¯m going to just¡­do it.  You okay being-¡°

    ¡°Used?¡± he interrupts, though his voice is rough, ¡°No problem.  Use me however you¡¯d like.  I¡¯m loaded with stabilisers, so I can control myself.  But are you¡­ready?¡±

    Frowning, it takes a moment to understand what he¡¯s referring to, and I reach between my legs, feeling the slickness of my cunt with shock.

    ¡°Not a problem,¡± I say, rushing my words, and Eagan cocks his head.

    It looks like he¡¯s waiting for something, his head tilted to mine.  I eye his lips, the fullness of them, but kissing isn¡¯t needed for this.  I don¡¯t want to kiss him.  It¡¯s too much to ask on top of what we¡¯re already being forced to do, and I don¡¯t want to give him the wrong idea.  Kissing is far too personal and loving. This isn¡¯t love.

    This is giving in to a crazed bitch threatening my dragons.

    Instead, I balance myself, lifting on my knees while my hand seeks under the blankets for his cock.  Momentary concern envelops me over whether he¡¯ll be hard or not, because I have no idea how to make a man hard, but thankfully I find the hot flesh of his cock easily, and it¡¯s practically throbbing. Precum glazes the tip, and I pause.  Last time I didn¡¯t have a chance to look at it, or even appreciate it for more than how big it felt inside me.

    Now I¡¯m looking at it, and it¡¯s perfect.

    There¡¯s a thickness and heftiness to it that entrances me.  The heat of it baffles me, and as I grasp it for inspection, more precum seeps out the slit at the top.  Eagan inhales deeply, waiting, so I take advantage of how he can¡¯t see what I¡¯m doing, and swipe the precum with my thumb, before giving it a quick taste.

    He moans.

    ¡°Did you just taste me?¡±

    I push my hand against his mouth again.

    ¡°You weren¡¯t supposed to know that,¡± I hiss, my skin feeling blistering hot as my embarrassment courses over me, ¡°I was just curious.¡±

    He nods, slowly, and I lower myself, reaching for his cock. Fumbling, I find my entrance, hesitating over how huge he feels. I can¡¯t bring myself to look at him when I finally slide down, but I hear him.  I feel him.  He tenses all over, before giving a shuddering breath, and he leans forward, his head lowered as I inch him inside.

    It¡¯s big.

    Despite how wet I was, it doesn¡¯t stop his size being something to overcome, per say.  My thighs tremble with the effort to pace myself slowly, before I grit my teeth and bare down on him all at once, feeling myself stretch to accommodate.

    ¡°Easy,¡± he tells me, one of his bound hands patting my thigh, ¡°Easy.  It¡¯s just us here.  Do what you want to me.¡±

    That shouldn¡¯t arouse me as much as it does, but it dulls the throbbing sensation in my pussy.  The heat of him inside me overwhelms, but I grind down, moving instinctively to get my balance for movement, before gasping as his cock nudges a particular sweet spot inside me.  I pause, daring myself to look at his face as I grind my hips down again. His face is strained, his brow furrowed.  When my hips roll again his hands flex.

    A small seed of confidence blooms over how I can see exactly what I can do to him, how it can affect him, so I chase my own pleasure, grinding and rolling my hips on his cock as I please.  I reach behind me, bracing my hands on his knees for support, moaning as I work harder and faster, I hear him swear under his breath.  It¡¯s a risky move with our position on the edge of the bed, but his legs are long and strong with muscle, so I throw caution to the wind as I pick up the pace and do as he had instructed me: to use him as I want.

    ¡°Margo, you¡¯ll be the death of me,¡± he hisses, his words hurried, ¡°Slow down, my cherished star, please.¡±

    The shock of the pet name has me lurch forwards, my pace thrown off, and the movement has me roll hard and fast, making me grimace, before Eagan shudders.  Something hot bursts inside me, and I stare at him as his seed spills out of me.  His face looks tight, and I get the sense he¡¯s embarrassed.

    I move off him quickly, stumbling awkwardly as I regain my footing.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I mutter, unsure how to talk to him, ¡°I¡¯ll untie you now.¡±

    He¡¯s eerily silent as I remove the ribbon, his jaw tense.  I hesitate before moving the blindfold.  He turns his head away from me.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± I ask him.

    I keep hearing what he had called me in my head.  My cherished star.  Never in a million years would I have guessed he would call me something like that.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he snaps, awakening me from my puzzled awe, ¡°Just give me a moment.¡±

    Hurt, I retreat, silently moving to the dresser to change.

    However evil his mother appears to be, she doesn¡¯t hold back with fashion. I try and distract myself from Eagan by pondering through the gowns, dismayed that they¡¯re all intricately ornate and embellished or heavily embroidered.  I¡¯m gazing at a pale dusky rose-pink gown with cornflower blue accents.  I finger the delicate material, my cheeks flushing at the stars embroidered into the fabric.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for snapping,¡± Eagan finally says from behind me, ¡°After last time I wanted it to go better, and then I ruined it again.  I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    I look at him, holding the gown in my hands, before remembering my nakedness and using the gown to hide myself. His arms are crossed, and he¡¯s stood with the blankets wrapped around him again, but his eyes are fixed on the gown in a strange wary way, gazing over it multiple times.

    ¡°Where did you find that?¡±

    I look down at it, baffled at the astonished look on his face.  It can¡¯t be because I¡¯m holding it.  Or that it looks beautiful against me.  His surprise must be over how thoroughly his mother thought to prepare this room.  Nothing more.

    ¡°The dresser,¡± I answer carefully, ¡°I know it won¡¯t suit me, don¡¯t worry.  I¡¯m not trying to dress above my station, I assure you.¡±

    He frowns at me, looking distressed.

    ¡°Do you like it?¡±

    Looking down at the material again, I nod.  It is gorgeous.  I recognise it too.  It¡¯s the very gown that was applauded in my first year, made by a talented student who loved to sew magic into her projects. This one is made from protection spells, the threads humming with enchantment.  My fingers run over the embroidered stars again, and a new spell flares, more potent and alarmingly obvious.

    ¡°This spell wasn¡¯t here before,¡± I mutter, frowning as my fingertips trace the spell, ¡°It¡¯s more than the protection spell. It¡¯s almost like a shielding spell?  Defence magic?¡±

    ¡°But do you like it?¡± He asks again, urgently.

    My eyes meet his.

    ¡°This was at Everlette Academy.  The original spell has been boosted by a powerful defence spell, and your mother has no qualms about harming me, so she wouldn¡¯t have knowingly left this here for me?  Which means the dresses were here before.  From someone else.¡±

    Eagan flinches, his head turning away again, but he nods.

    ¡°Yes.  They were here before, just not in this room.¡±

    ¡°Then what room?¡±

    ¡°Mine.¡±

    Carefully observing him again, I note how he fidgets.  Eagan Maverick, fidgeting.

    ¡°Why do you have dresses in your room, Eagan?¡± I ask quietly, unsure where this is going.

    He drags a hand down his face.

    "You were never part of the original plan, Margo," he states, with a tone of exhaustion. "My dragon, along with the eggs, were intended for us to utilize the hatchlings as we deemed appropriate since she was my dragon. However, as you are aware, your involvement changed the circumstances."

    I¡¯m about to speak, confused, but he raises a hand.

    ¡°It got difficult, because I knew as soon as I saw you.  Initial orders were to kill anyone who discovered the nest, but I knew that you were mine that night. I just didn¡¯t know what to do about it.  You were obviously good.  You were hiding them out of the goodness of your own heart, and my intentions were never good.  Then the hatchlings imprinted on you, and I was forced to observe until enfolding you into the squadron.¡±

    He swallows, lowering his hand and finally looking at me.

    "I''ve been buying gowns since your first day at Everlette Academy, hoping you''d be mine. I keep messing up. After the first time, I was too worried to approach you, but I wanted to. I don''t know how to talk to you or navigate this, and you hate me, but I want to do right by you. I''m not good at this."

    I blink at him, holding the gown up again, seeing the stars and feeling the realisation creep in.  I don¡¯t quite believe it, mind you, because it doesn¡¯t feel real.  No way has Eagan being buying me gowns because he knew he was mated to me since before I enrolled at Everlette Academy.

    ¡°I do like it,¡± I say quietly, ¡°But why gowns?¡±

    He looks at me as if it¡¯s clear.

    ¡°Because you would look beautiful in them.¡±