Page 7 of Court of Rivals (Their Dragon Rider #1)

G areth

I take another bite of my apple as I watch the fools below.

My two younger brothers, Lucien and Alaric, are showing the other dragon riders proper hand-to-hand battle technique.

The problem? The three of us hate each other, so a simple practice fight between the two of them has turned into a real one pretty damn quick, and right now they’ve changed from simple moves to brutal attacks on each other.

Grinning, I wonder which will win. Lucien doesn’t take anything seriously, anything except the rivalry my father has so carefully crafted between us.

When he gets going, he can actually stand his own against the two of us.

Studying the two battling idiots, I take another bite of my apple.

Lucien’s shoulder-length blond hair wasn’t properly secured back, so it’s tossing around as they roll on the ground.

Something I’m sure he’ll be upset by later, since he loves his golden good looks.

Alaric suddenly manages to get on top of him.

Alaric, as the youngest, always has something to prove.

He acts tough as nails, as tough as I am, but he’s soft and gooey on the inside.

He might have the balls to deliver fatal blows in battle, but he controls himself down on the practice yard, and that control is going to cost him the win.

All around them, dozens of dragon riders are chanting and screaming.

They love to see their princes in action.

There’s something about knowing their rulers are fighting alongside them that drives them to push themselves harder and faster.

It’s one of the reasons father raised us from birth to be dragon riders.

We must do everything in our power to keep our people safe from the Hollowborn, regardless of what it costs us personally, and that includes leading them into battle.

A few of our dragons cling to the walls that surround the practice yard, watching the fight beneath with hooded lids.

Our dragons find us mildly interesting, at least enough so that they don’t toss us from their backs while we ride them.

They care enough not to let us die, but to step in when we’re being hurt?

Not so much. Our problems are our own concerns.

Overhead more of our dragons circle the academy grounds, but also fly all over Elarwyn, our great city.

The academy hugs the side of a cliff that drops down into a dangerous ocean far below.

In front of us, the academy connects to the castle, and beyond that to the great city.

To our sides are woods that press in around Stormwrath Academy and the city.

It’s the most beautiful place on earth. And the perfect place to be training dragons.

Lucien is about to knock out one of Alaric’s teeth when the dragons suddenly go mad, flapping, making strange noises that fill the air.

I freeze and watch as the dragons on the castle walls launch into the air.

Squawking sounds fill the air, a sound I’ve never heard them make before.

Everything inside me tenses, and I reach out to Sylvara, my dragon, through my mind.

What is it? What’s the matter?

But she ignores me, as she often does. Dragons tend to treat all information like it’s on a need to know basis, and, apparently, I don’t need to know this.

I rise from the castle wall and race down until I reach the practice yard.

The fight has long-since finished, because this new chaos is far more interesting.

The men are all standing around in the dirt, probably calling to their dragons, wondering why the hell they’re all flying around frantically making such strange noises.

“Have any of your dragons said a word?” I ask, my tone as sharp as my gaze on the sky.

“No,” I hear from a few of them, quickly echoed by the others.

Lucien combs his fingers through his long blond hair, his blue eyes full of worry even as he says, “Are they all constipated? Do dragons get constipated?”

“This isn’t funny,” Alaric says on my other side. “Something’s wrong. We should tell father.”

I glance down at my brother in annoyance. At six-two, Alaric is hardly a shrimp, but he is compared to me. From his neatly trimmed brown hair, to his well-cared-for brown-leathers, he screams “rule follower” in every way possible. One of his many irritating traits.

“Right now there’s nothing to tell father. Just a bunch of dragons being dragons.”

“Surely this is more than that?” Alaria challenges, his brown eyes locking onto me.

“Doesn’t look like it,” I tell him shortly.

I’m about ready to head in and find something more to eat when my gaze catches something dark in the sky.

Every muscle in my body tenses, and I wonder if it’s a bone wyrm.

It’s been many years since one was stupid enough to get this close to Elarwyn, but things could get messy fast if we don’t launch into action.

Except… none of the dragons prepare for battle. None of them rush to get their riders on. They just continue circling and squawking as the unknown, dark creature grows closer.

“There’s something out there,” Lucien says softly.

“A bone wyrm?” Alaric asks.

“The dragons would react to that,” I snap.

Still, the creature draws closer at an alarming rate. Closer and closer. Some of the dragon riders move back under the protection of the castle walls, others just continue to point and stare, but all of us watch with growing concern as it draws closer.

“It’s a dragon, but I don’t think it’s one of ours!” Alaric shouts, sounding shocked.

“It’s too big to be a dragon,” Lucien murmurs.

“Too big to be a dragon?” I snort. “Nothing’s bigger than a dragon.”

Still… it does look bigger. And it does look to be a dragon.

“Call your dragons to you,” I command, realizing that whatever it is it’s heading straight for us.

Sylvara, it’s time to ride! I shout into her mind.

There’s no response back.

Sylvara!

Still, nothing.

“Our dragons aren’t responding. There’s something wrong with them,” someone says.

He’s right. It’s like they’re under some kind of spell. Some power beyond anything we’ve seen before. Is this some new danger from the Hollowborn?

“Prepare yourself!”I tell them, withdrawing my sword, even though I don’t know what good it’ll do against this creature.

It comes even closer, so close I can make out small details. It’s definitely a dragon. A black dragon. But it’s bigger than any I’ve seen before. Easily four times the size of Sylvara.

Could it be…? No, it couldn’t. It’s impossible. But whatever it is, it’s coming in fast.

My eyes narrow. “Holy shit! Get out of the way! It’s heading straight for us!”

All of us scramble out of the open training yard, racing to get beneath the shelter of the roofs that are the walkways surrounding the open training yard.

Within seconds of the last rider diving beneath the wall, the massive beast comes crashing into the training yard.

Dust rises up around it, and it throws back its head and roars, flames leaping from its mouth.

Then, it lowers itself and the woman on its back comes into view.

A woman. Riding a dragon. The largest dragon I’ve ever seen.

She has long blonde hair swept back from her face, the strands tangled by the wind.

A face more beautiful than any woman I’ve ever seen, big hazel eyes, and sharp cheekbones.

She looks tiny on the dragon, but she’s tall and well-built for a woman.

Who is this woman?

And what in the hell is going on? None of this makes sense. And I don’t like things that don’t make sense.

Her eyes sweep over all of us, then connect with me. Her voice comes out soft, feminine, but sure. “Uh, hi. Is this where the… the dragon riders come to train?”