Page 51 of The Forbidden Dragon King (Shadow Kings #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Parade Ground, Shadow Military Academy

D aire

I pull at the restrictive laces and high collar of the plain leather Shadow Military Academy uniform. How do the dragons breathe in these things? How do they find a way to repress everything?

I shake out my wings, as if I can still feel the wild winds beneath them as I fly over the frost kissed forests.

I glance around the parade ground courtyard casually, while in reality scoping out the single archway through the stone back wall into the dorms, the bars on the narrow windows, and the corridor along the far wall that must lead to an outside training area.

I avoid looking at the tall, wooden whipping post, which is erected in the center of the barren courtyard. I also avoid thinking about the fact I was almost shackled to that and flogged, rather than promoted into becoming a cadet.

But then, what are a few more scars to add to my others?

I can’t make out the details of the courtyard, as my vision is blurry at the edges. Yet it’s sharper than it has been for a while.

Maximinus rewarded me with a double dose of the antidote because he was so pleased with my assassination of Quintus. He especially liked my added rune magic, which sent his rival to the Shadow Devils.

I didn’t do that for Maximinus.

Like the rest of the palace, however, I can sense that the walls here are also lined with iron. It’s why I don’t need to be trapped in iron manacles to be controlled. A veil is permanently drawn between me and my most powerful, primal magic, as well as my flight.

From the moment that Aurelius brought me here, he stole my soul.

I should want to bloody eviscerate him.

I do.

Yet now, he also feels like family.

Is there a way that this game can end without his blood on my hands or mine on his?

I’m slouched in a line in the parade ground with the other dozen cadets, who are a mix of Omegas and Alphas, next to Freya. Her hair has been caught back from her face with the uniform’s dragon clip like mine has.

My smart wolf actually found a way to gain us entry as cadets. Sometimes it’s as if she can read my mind.

My blood runs cold at the thought. What if she can read it through the bond? I don’t know how these golden threads work.

What if she can sense the pain running through my veins from Maximinus’ poison? What if she knows that I can’t properly see her beautiful face? What if she heard my thoughts in the cell about dying?

I stroke over the soul mark, then think as hard as I can.

My wings are fully working again. I’m wrapping them around Freya and flying her into the blue sky.

We’re both naked under the hot sun. I’m rutting her, as fae fuck in the Spring Rite, free and savage.

My thighs piston hard, as she claws at my back.

Her tight pussy feels like heaven around my thick cock.

I kiss her, as I spin her, matching the speed of my deep thrusts, faster and faster…

“Why are you smiling?” Freya sounds suspicious, breaking me out of my happy daydream.

She can’t hear my thoughts, or she wouldn’t be asking that.

Relief surges through me that my secrets — all of them — are safe.

“Am I?” I turn to look at her.

The downside of my test is that my cock is now achingly hard in these leather breeches.

“I can sense how you’re feeling through the bond,” she says in a singsong voice, before glancing significantly down at my crotch. “You’d better be thinking about me.”

“Of course I am, love. You look stunning in all that leather. Did you find a way to hide my feather inside your uniform?”

“I did. Guess where I hid it?”

My smile widens.

My wicked wolf. I can guess.

“You won’t be smiling like that for long,” the dragon Alpha on the other side of me sneers without turning his head.

He’s standing so straight that it looks painful.

But then, Freya and I are the only ones who aren’t standing in perfect parade rest. The dragon shifters are clasping their hands behind them. Their eyes are locked straight ahead.

I turn my unimpressed gaze on the shifter next to me, who appears to be a year or so younger than Freya. His golden hair is long and caught back like mine is. He’s handsome in a cruel way with icy blue eyes and high cheekbones,

Startled, I realize that he reminds me of a shorter, younger Aurelius. Except, this arsehole is only playing at being dominant. He’s a shade of the military leader that Aurelius is.

“And why is that then?” I ask, disinterested.

The cadet is struggling to keep his gaze fixed ahead of him, as if he’s desperate to break position and turn his head.

“You’re a savage fae. A bandit. I’ve heard all about you.

It’s a disgrace for you to wear that uniform.

No dragon will ever want a wolf or a fae to ride them.

When you fail this week, I’ll enjoy watching a criminal like you rightfully sacrificed to the Shadow Gods. ”

I hold back the snarl.

Shadows flutter around my wings, as I break from the line to circle in front of him. “And what does being sacrificed to the Shadow Gods mean?”

“Frightened?” He sniffs. “You should prepare yourself. I can extend even a courtesan pet like you this courtesy, despite the fact that you should never have been allowed to enter this academy. It’s laughable that you’re pretending to have more worth, now that you’ve been defeated, than spreading your legs.

I enjoyed watching you being dragged through the streets in your golden cage, while being pelted with rotten cabbage; it suited you.

Now, being sacrificed to the Shadow Gods means being dragged to the lands beyond even those of the Shadow Elves to the merciless mermen.

Then being bound to the cliffs and left as an offering for the gods to devour. ”

“Oh good, nothing to worry about then,” I mutter.

I ignore the humiliation of the rest of the bastard’s speech.

I led an army. I know that he’s using this chance to make himself appear the strongest member of the group by tearing me down as the weakest. To him, he’s the hunter, and I’m the prey.

I’ll make him regret that. The cadet stiffens, as I study his face. “And who are you, kid?”

Finally, the cadet’s furious gaze snaps to mine. “I am a noble silver dragon, Ignatius Messalla. The King’s cousin.”

“Distant cousin, you mean?” Freya corrects with faked sweetness.

This arsehole has just insulted me and tried to scare us both.

He’s fucked. “It’s just that I haven’t served you with the rest of the King’s family and friends at breakfast. You weren’t even invited to King Tarquin’s deathday banquet. ”

Ignatius reddens.

None of the other cadets move or speak, but from the tension in the air, it’s clear that they’re listening intently.

You don’t need a dagger to kill someone. In the Shadow Court, you can murder someone by slashing their reputation with sharp words.

I lean closer, and Ignatius flinches. “Aye, he looks the type. A distant relative sent here from the borderlands by an overly ambitious family to make his mark in court. A puffed up hanger-on.”

Someone snickers.

Ignatius looks like he wants the earth to open up and swallow him.

Is he going to cry?

I can only hope.

“Wait, Ignatius…?” Freya taps her chin in thought. “Aurelius has mentioned you.”

Ignatius looks hopeful.

“Nope, he hasn’t.” Freya breaks her position to loop her arms around my neck possessively, before pulling me back next to her. “Because you’re a nobody. On the other hand, we’re both his precious pets. He talks about us every day. Fucking remember that.”

“Attention!” A voice bellows from the archway.

Immediately, the cadets snap to attention .

I shrug, crossing my arms.

Freya lets go of me and does her best to copy the other cadets.

I squint across the courtyard.

A large Alpha is crossing the parade ground. I sniff, trying to get a sense of him, before I can see him properly.

My nose wrinkles in disgust: rusted iron.

His scent is powerful, dominant, and bloody disgusting.

I choke, as my eyes burn.

I listen to his footsteps: the sharp, clipped march of someone who has never been anything but a soldier.

The instructor stops just in front of the line of cadets.

I can make out now that he’s almost a foot taller than me and muscled. He is dressed in full golden armor, as if he’s stuck in a permanent battle.

In his fifties, he has steel threading through his short blond hair. His large features are striking, in the same way that Tiberius’ were.

There is no doubt that this is Tiberius’ brother, Caligo.

I straighten, sizing up the Chief Instructor.

He is the right age to have fought in the First Fae War… to have led the dragons against my parents.

Did he?

Caligo walks up and down the line of tense cadets in intimidating silence, examining their uniforms. When he stops on Freya, I can hear how fast her breathing has become.

When he leans to brush what I’m certain is imaginary fluff from the arm of her uniform, I hold myself back with difficulty.

I stiffen, when he walks past me.

Caligo ignores me, however, stopping on Ignatius. “Messalla.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I guess you believe that you are something special? A silver dragon who is related to the King? Expecting to be treated with kid gloves?”

My eyes widen at the level of venom in Caligo’s voice.

I’ve just found someone who the instructor may hate more than me, which is useful. But why? Is it because Ignatius is connected to Aurelius?

Did Caligo target Aurelius, when he was trained here?

“No, sir.” Ignatius’ voice doesn’t waver; he continues to look straight ahead.

Are Shadow Dragons trained from birth into good little soldier boys?

Caligo backhands Ignatius, and finally the cadet’s shocked gaze meets the instructor’s.

“Look at me, fucker.” Caligo’s voice is low and hard. “I’m a ruby dragon and proud of being a proper veteran soldier. Once you entered my academy, you became nobody. Just another cadet. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Repeat it. I am a nobody .”