Page 17 of Court of Rivals (Their Dragon Rider #1)

H arper

We’ve finished lunch, and the men have completely ignored me.

The ones surrounding me at the table made a point to not include me in any of the conversation, and even catching their eyes resulted in glares.

It’s weird. I’ve never been treated like this in my life.

In Pennyvale, everyone loves me. They’re constantly grateful to me for helping them with their healing needs.

They laugh at my stories. They seek me out for gifts and conversation.

I have to keep reminding myself that this isn’t about me.

This is about their fragile male egos. Me just existing is enough to rock their pathetic worlds.

So they can treat me like shit. They can leave me out.

But nothing they do is going to make me forget that I’m Harper Fucking Nightborne.

Daughter of two strong parents. Sister to four crazy brothers.

I’m tougher than anyone they’ve ever encountered before.

The princes are seated separately throughout the room.

All of them constantly being pulled into conversation by the other dragon riders.

Prince Lucien seems to be the center of attention, always having some kind of antidote or story that sends the whole group of men laughing.

Prince Alaric seems to offer a lot of advice and direction, which the men listen to earnestly.

And Prince Gareth seems quiet, but speaks to the others when he’s pulled into the conversation.

Three such different men. How could they possibly be brothers?

Except that they all seem to be in equal agreement that they don’t like me. Which, again, is weird. Men usually seem to like me.

I try not to stare at them. To even look in their directions.

But there’s just something about them… something that makes me feel connected to them in a way that I don’t understand.

It’s like our hearts are all beating in the same rhythm, but it’s the only thing we have in common.

This weird connection, this string between us.

I’ve never felt this way before… it makes me uneasy.

Prince Lucien is laughing at something. Light dances in his piercing green eyes, making him even more handsome. Our gazes catch and hold. His smile vanishes, and for a long second we just look at each other, before he glances away.

A shiver rolls down my spine, and I release a deep breath.

Prince Alaric glances in my direction, his spine stiffens, and he looks away frantically. I wonder what he sees that makes him so reluctant to make eye contact with me. Maybe my bruised up face? But whatever it is, it doesn’t stop his gaze from swinging back to me over and over again.

For Prince Gareth’s part, he doesn’t look in my direction, but is it weird that I think he senses me? His back is straight. His hand is clenched around his fork, and there are small lines at the corners of his eyes that suggest he’s feeling tense.

I’m just thankful that he doesn’t look in my direction, because us not looking at each other feels really intense already.

Thankfully, lunch finishes. We go out to the practice yards and the men start removing their shirts like they always do.

As much as I hate all of them, it’s not a bad sight.

Especially the princes. All this practicing might have made their brains small, but it’s done a lot for their muscles.

They don’t make men like them in Pennyvale.

And maybe that’s a good thing.

Prince Gareth stands on a lifting bench. “Today, we’ll be running training sessions with our dragons. Remember, we can have fun out there, but you need to take this seriously. Today it’s just us in the sky, but one day it’ll be us with the Hollowborn.”

I’m not one hundred percent sure what training in the sky looks like.

Whatever we did last time certainly just seemed to piss them off.

Today, I’ll make sure Ebron and I fall back and learn what we need to learn.

I might be feeling competitive with these guys, but first and foremost I’m here to learn how to fight the Hollowborn.

I told Ebron I would be the warrior he needs, and I plan to follow through with my word.

“Call your dragons to you!” Prince Gareth orders.

I’m about to start shouting when I remember that I can communicate with him through my mind by directing my thoughts. Right. That’s a thing.

Taking a deep breath, I focus on him and say, time for training. They want you in the practice yard.

No response.

I try again. Ebron! I need you!

Still, no response. Maybe I’m not doing this right. I try again, this time shouting into my mind, Ebron, you there? We’re supposed to practice today.

His lazy, happy voice comes into my mind. We’ll be there shortly. No need to shout.

Humm. I wonder what he’s been up to.

Around me, I can tell the men are getting irritated, although I don’t know why. Then, Prince Alaric says, “I don’t remember it ever taking this long to get a dragon's attention before.”

Prince Lucien glances over at me, his long blond hair now tied back from his face. “It probably has something to do with her dragon.”

Oh, hell no! It’s too early for me to already be taking the blame for these idiots and their dragons.

I shrug. “I can’t help it if your dragons are easily distracted by a pair of balls.”

Multiple eyes lock onto me, but I just cross my arms in front of my chest, trying to look casual. I might not go looking for a fight with these men, but if they bring one to my door, I’m not about to back down.

Prince Gareth strides over to me, and his brothers are suddenly at his heel. “Today in practice, things are going to go my way.”

I cast him my best I don’t give a fuck look.

He moves forward, so that he’s crowding my space. “My dragon leads. Their dragons follow. You? You’re at the way back. You understand? I want you so far back you can barely see what’s going on.”

“Seems like a great way to learn,” I reply dryly.

“This is serious,” Prince Alaric says, stepping closer. “This whole thing might be a game to you, but it’s not to us. Training properly can be the difference between life and death out on the battlefield.”

“And I’m sure the safest place to be on a battlefield is in the far back away from the rest of the pack,” I counter.

Prince Alaric’s face shifts into a startled expression.

That’s one thing I’m starting to notice about him, whatever he’s thinking is always right on his face.

Not so much with the other two. Prince Gareth likes to hide any emotion behind a scowl, and Prince Lucien tends to have an easy smile that never reaches his eyes, like he’s playing a part, but not doing it well.

“Back of the pack,” Prince Gareth tells me curtly. “Keep your fucking dragon in line.”

A shadow passes overhead, and then the earth shakes as Ebron lands roughly in the center of the practice area, his dark scales are beautiful against the afternoon sunlight.

Moments later, Prince Gareth’s silver dragon lands, followed by Prince Lucien’s gold dragon, and Prince Alaric’s white dragon.

Again, I’m struck by how much smaller they are than Ebron, nearly a fourth of the size.

I’m much smaller than the princes, but I’m not even less than half their size.

I can’t even imagine having sex with a man four times my size.

Not that I’m thinking about having sex with them.

It’s also strange how much more delicate the female dragons seem.

Even their wings look more like butterfly wings and less like bat wings, like Ebron’s.

Their snouts are thinner, their scales placed, almost as if to be more beautiful than durable, like Ebron’s.

It’s a bit of a shock to me that these are the dragons that fight in the wars rather than the males.

Although, I guess it makes sense when there are fewer males, and the males tend to want to be left alone.

“Ebron,” I call and hurry toward him. He lowers his head so I can pet his scales gently.

Beside us, the females roll onto their bellies, offering their bellies to Ebron as they make strange sounds that remind me of geese. As sophisticated and beautiful as they’ve seemed before, now they remind me of cats rolling around in the sunlight. The whole thing is strange.

“What are they doing?” I ask.

Trying to show me that they would make good mates. All the females are. They know that this time around I’m not just selecting mates for when they’re in heat, but mates for life, and they all want to be a part of my harem. But not to worry, I’ll choose our mates well.

“Did he answer you?”

I jerk, and find Prince Alaric close behind me, eyeing my dragon cautiously.

Without thinking, I touch my face. The bruise from his fist. My black eye, and I stare at him, wondering if he really expects us to just have a normal conversation.

His gaze snaps to where my hand touches my face, and he winces. “It wasn’t personal.”

“Wasn’t it?” I ask, softly.

He licks his bottom lip, his gaze moving from my eyes to my mouth. “We’ve all hit each other plenty of times. In battle, our enemies won’t go easy on us.”

“So that’s why you did it, to prepare me for battle?”

He can’t answer.

I turn away from him. “Ebron says the females are all trying to show that they’d make good mates.”

“Fuck,” he mutters.

“Is that a big deal?”

He sighs. “It just means our dragons are going to be distracted.”

“You’re big, bad dragon riders, I’m sure you can handle it,” I say, flashing a smile.

His gaze lingers on my smile like it’s something foreign he doesn’t understand. What? Hasn’t he ever seen a woman smile before?

Probably not, given his personality.

“On your dragons,” Prince Gareth orders.

Ebron uses his wing to help me up, and then the four of us are on our dragons. The men, I notice, are sitting in saddles of a sort that are strapped to the backs of the females. Man, I’m going to have to get a saddle like that. It’s probably a lot safer.