Page 1 of Court of Rivals (Their Dragon Rider #1)

H arper

“Eat a bag of dicks!” I shout at the asshole who had drunkenly knocked into me, sending all the apples in my basket scattering all over the ground.

Billy, the town drunk, blinks stupidly back at me. “S-sorry, Harper,” he slurs.

“Don’t be sorry, stop doing this to yourself!” I grumble at him as I kneel down and begin scooping apples up and putting them back in my basket.

Still, I guess this is better than that time he ran into me completely naked…

It’s midday in Pennyvale and everybody and their dog is out.

I know damn well that constantly having to weave around people is my own fault for not getting into town sooner, but it couldn’t be helped.

I’d been helping my mother all morning with a boy who’d fallen from a tree and broken his arm.

It was a bad break, so it’d taken a lot of work just to save his arm.

Now, I’m exhausted, and want to just get out of here as fast as humanly possible. The quiet of the woods is calling me, as is a good book, and I’m eager to answer that particular call. Luckily, I have just about everything on my mother’s list. The last stop is the baker.

Heaving my bag back onto my shoulder and grabbing the basket full of apples, I head around the blacksmith’s shop and instantly run head first into yet another person. This time it’s someone tall, broad, and all too familiar.

My heart drops. Tesson.

I don’t want to look, gods, I don’t, but my eyes find his, dark and glinting, with that smirk that hits me harder than the collision itself.

Tesson is Lord Montclair’s son. Every girl in the village desperately wants to marry him. Every man, woman, and child thinks the gods themselves blessed him into being as the perfect man.

Everyone, that is, except me.

I hate him.

I’m also betrothed to him.

“Hello, Tesson,” I manage, swallowing around the lump in my throat.

His smirk widens as I step back, creating space between us. “Hello, Harper.”

I start inching around him. “Well, I have a lot of things to do today–”

“You know, I’m beginning to think you don’t like being around me.” He doesn’t think it. He knows it. I’m not allowed to admit it, to say the words, in fear of what his father would do to my family, but we both know down to our cores that I want nothing to do with him. That he disgusts me.

“I’m just busy,” I lie.

As I continue to slide around him, he steps into my path. “Too busy for your betrothed?”

He sweeps a hand through his short brown hair and shakes his head a little. I hear a passing woman literally gasp, fluttering her lashes at him as she walks by us. It’s sick, this power he has over everyone. This mask he wears so carefully.

“What do you want?” I ask, careful to keep the venom out of my voice.

He reaches forward and grabs ahold of my arm, tightening his hold to the point that it’s painful. “Just to talk to you. I haven’t seen you much lately.” Then, he’s hauling me into the alley between the blacksmith’s shop and a clothing shop. “How have you been?” he asks lightly.

“Fine,” I manage.

There’s a flicker of anger in his eyes. A moment of truth. A slipping of the mask. I swear he only shows his true self with me, when we’re alone, because he knows no one would believe me if I told them what he was really like. That he has a soul as black and wicked as a demon’s.

“Why are you so cold to me, Harper? I’m the son of a lord. I’m wealthy and powerful. I could’ve chosen anyone to marry–”

“So choose someone else,” I tell him softly.

He throws back his head and laughs, like a villain in one of my stories.

When his gaze lifts toward the blacksmith’s roof, mine follows, tracking the subtle shift until I spot what’s caught his attention: a bird's nest tucked into the corner.

Inside, pale white eggs gleam. Some of my unease fades at the sight of the pretty eggs.

I have no doubt they belong to love birds.

“There’s no one else for me. From the first moment I saw you, I knew you belonged to me,” he tells me casually, like I’m a thing to claim instead of a person. “Being connected to me has helped you and your family in countless ways. You wouldn’t want to lose all of that, would you?”

The truth is, my family doesn’t truly need anything from this awful man or his father, just for them to not bring trouble our way.

My mother and I are skilled healers. We would have business, coin, and a place in the community, regardless of whether or not I marry Tesson.

I want to say that’s enough, but it’s not.

I hate admitting it, but if I outright reject Tesson, I'm certain he’s evil enough to hurt my family, so I’ve been drawing out the engagement over the past year, buying time, hoping he’ll lose interest in me.

Unfortunately, he hasn’t. If anything, he’s become more determined than ever.

“Besides,” he adds on. “You’re thirty-fucking-years-old. Almost a damn spinster. You should be glad I ever asked for your hand.”

I don’t know what he wants from me. I don’t know what he wants me to say. “Tesson, we’re already betrothed…”

Although, in name only. We haven’t had an official fasting ceremony yet. Luckily.

His smirk fades and a warning flashes in his eyes. “If you’re mine, why doesn’t it feel like you’re mine?”

“I don’t know.”

He studies me, and I imagine what he’s thinking.

This man chose me for a reason. He claims it’s because I’m beautiful and smart, but there are a hundred girls in this village alone who are just as beautiful and clever that actually want him.

Despite that, he's set his sights on me, someone who doesn't want him, for a reason.

He wants to take something wild and break it into pieces, then put those pieces back together in a way he likes.

“Harper.” He grasps my chin and tilts my face up to meet his eyes. “We're having dinner with your family this weekend. We’re picking a date for our wedding and we’re having our fasting ceremony after the meal. And don’t you fucking dare test me on this.” Then, he releases me.

I stare at him, wracking my brain for a way out of this marriage, for another excuse to delay the inevitable, but nothing comes to mind. The silence in my head is louder than his voice. I just… can’t marry him. I can’t. Marrying a man like him would destroy me.

He crosses the alley, eyes locked onto mine, until he reaches the bird’s nest. With a quick movement, he knocks the nest off the roof. It lands in a pile at his feet, and then he snaps his foot out, crushing the eggs beneath his boot, while my stomach lurches.

“The wedding will be planned this weekend, the fasting ceremony will take place, and you will be my bride.”

The fasting ceremony will take place this weekend? We’ll officially become engaged? No. Absolutely not.

He presses a light kiss to my cheek, before turning and walking out of the alley, disappearing from sight. I stare at the destroyed bird’s nest, feeling my legs shaking. If that wasn’t a warning, I don’t know what is.

Drawing my shoulders back, I leave the alley and go to the baker and trade my apples and basket for the bread I need, then load it into the bag on my back with the other goodies I picked up in town, trying not to think of Tesson.

Or his threat. Finally finished, I head for the little pathway that leads toward my house, waving at the villagers in town as I do so and trying not to seem too eager to escape them.

I’ve finally reached the little path that leads into the woods when someone grabs my shoulders from behind. Without thinking, I grab one of the hands, spin around, and kick the person directly in the stomach before flipping them over my back and onto the ground.

Panting, I spot Arthur sprawled on the ground in front of me. He groans, and I grin, relaxing. “Idiot. Do you never learn?”

My father can’t talk about it to people outside our family, but his father was once an assassin for the king. He taught my dad everything he knew, and my dad made sure we learned the same. We’re a lethal bunch, in ways no one in this village could possibly understand.

Arthur holds his stomach, wiggling around pathetically. His beloved sandy blond hair rubs against the dirty ground in a way I know he’ll regret later, but right now he’s too busy playing the part of the terribly injured fellow.

Which is oh so pathetic to see from a thirty-year-old man.

Arthur is my best friend. He has been my best friend since we were in diapers, but as I grew up, his maturity stayed about the same as it had been when he was fourteen. Still, no one ever makes me laugh as much as he does.

Blinking up at me with his big brown eyes, he says, “What? I thought I’d finally be faster than you.”

I snort. “Did you inhale fairy dust? You thought farting glitter and sunbeams would make you beat me?”

He gives me a look and lifts up a sad hand for help. I roll my eyes and grab his hand, planning to help him up. Instead, he yanks me down, pulling me down on top of him with my heavy bag on my back.

“Arthur!” I shout.

He’s laughing in glee. “You see everything coming, but not that, did you, Buttercup ?”

As I try to get up, he wraps his legs around me and farts. It’s a fart that echoes around us. A fart that sends birds flying from all the trees.

“Arthur!” I scream, pounding my hands against his chest. “You’re disgusting!”

In response, he farts again as I struggle to escape him. A terrible scent washes over the whole clearing that reminds me of the community poop hole in town. I’d never used it before, but you could smell it from several buildings over.

He finally lets me go, and I spring to my feet, leaping back, trying to escape the putrid scent as he laughs hysterically.

“Grow up!” I tell him. This kind of stuff wasn’t even funny when we were in our twenties.

He snorts between his laughter, his voice becoming as high as it had been when he was thirteen and it was cracking and screeching. “ You. Should’ve. Seen. Your. Face. ”

I kick him lightly, but that only makes him laugh harder.

“I’m going to pee!” he shouts, and then after way too much laughter, he continues, “A little pee came out!”

I plant my hands on my hips. “If you’re so damn cocky, how about we run The Gauntlet together and see if you’re still so damn cocky.”

His expression sobers up. “Wait, is that an official challenge?”

I reach out a hand.

He leaps to his feet, and we shake. “Challenge accepted,” he tells me in a formal voice.

We turn toward the woods, but then he notices my bag. “That’s going to slow you down.”

“So maybe you’ll be able to catch me today,” I say, like the badass bitch I am.

He lifts a brow. “I’ll take any help I can get.”

We get into our race positions. The air seems to still. A heaviness hangs over the clearing we’re in, the town behind us, my home, and the woods ahead of us.

“One,” I begin. “Two. Three. Go!”

We take off into the woods like crazed rabbits, both of us skipping the path and driving right into the woods.

We scale up a hill, then run back down the other side.

Ahead of us is a river. Some days it’s almost non-existent, but today it’s flowing fast, carrying melted snow from the nearby mountains.

It’s dangerously fast. I know damn well if we end up in that river we’ll be tossed around for miles through the icy cold water.

Something I’ve, unfortunately, done before.

But I run straight at it, hands outstretched, timing things perfectly…

and then I leap onto a huge rock beside the water and jump again to grasp the rope that’s hanging from a tree branch.

With a wild scream, I swing across the water, then come down on the other side, jumping onto another big rock.

Arthur lands beside me, and we’re neck-and-neck.

Ahead of us is an area filled with jagged rocks. We start across them, having to be careful with each step we take. One wrong move, and we’ve got a broken ankle. We don’t let it slow us down though. We keep running like we’ve lost our minds, huffing and puffing until we make it to the other side.

“This time, I’ve got you!” Arthur shouts, diving to his right.

“Not a chance!” I shout back, diving to my left.

I find the cave with ease. The opening’s small enough that I have to duck down below the tangled roots of the trees that grow above it, but it’s massive on the inside.

I hurry ahead, only slowing a bit when darkness swallows me whole.

But I know this cave. I know the rocks, cracks, and holes.

I just keep running, knowing this is a far faster way to go than to climb the hill overhead.

Exploding out into the sunlight, I make a mad dash for the fence around my house, pushing myself with all my might as the heavy bag bounces on my shoulders.

I sense movement behind me. I know it’s him, but I can’t take the time to slow down and find out.

My outstretched hand reaches for the fence as it comes into view. He’s right at my heel. I can feel him.

And then my hand grasps the fence, and Arthur smashes into me from behind nearly sending us both tumbling over the short fence.

“Watch it!” I shout.

“But I was so close.” He’s pouting now.

I grin and push him away, spinning around. “And yet you lost .”

He glares.

I smile and start my victory dance, leaping around like a bird trying to mate. “I’m the winner, and you’re the loser. The lo-o-o-s-e-r.”

He folds his arms in front of his chest. “I’d say you’re a poor loser, but you’re a far worse winner. Just… absolutely obnoxious when you win.”

“A l-o-s-er. An l-o-s-e-r, loser.” I say, cocking my head back and forth, kicking my legs out.

“I’m going to go home where people aren’t jerks,” he pouts, turning and heading back down the path.

I grin, stopping my obnoxious dancing. “There’s a cake inside. One of our customers made it for us…”

His pout softens as he looks back at me. “Is it a chocolate cake?”

My grin widens. “Maybe.”

He pumps his fist. “ Yes !”

“Race you inside?” I ask.

He starts to climb over the fence, and I grab his foot, yank off his shoe, and throw it into the woods. Then, I open the gate and race toward my house, ignoring the angry shouts of my best friend.

Life is good.

But it’s strange, the second the thought enters my mind a chilly wind sweeps over me. I freeze in the middle of my yard and look around in confusion, every hair on my arms prickling. Is it magic? Is it an approaching storm?

I don’t know.

“But something’s in the air,” I whisper to myself, unease crawling down my spine.