Chapter One

RIONA watched the ebony dragon coast over the rocky hillside just beyond the city walls with envy and curiosity. Jealous of the sleek, dark shape free to drift on the invisible currents and wondering what brought it so close.

Dragons in full form rarely flew so near to the city of Calmoore. Inside the walls, only human form was allowed for dragon shifters. Most preferred to stretch their wings in the natural, wide open spaces of the fields and rolling hills beyond the reach of the city’s shadow.

Not that she would know. To the discomfiture of her family, the Grand Council, and the populace, Riona, Princess of Ardell, was unable to shift forms. And what good was a royal drake with no full dragon form?

Standing at her window and watching the graceful form turn and glide with the vagaries of the wind, Riona tried not to think about her own inadequacies. Tried to forget about the personal and political ramifications of her lackluster existence for a few minutes. Tried to forget the increasingly candid hints and intimations from her father and her aunt that choosing a suitor would make life easier. For everyone.

For this one single moment, Riona just wanted to enjoy the beauty of the ebony dragon in flight.

Ebony was such an unusual color for the drakes of Ardell. The years of intermarriage with humans had mottled and muted the bold, sharp colors of the pure-blood dragon clans they descended from. Even her father’s brilliant bronze form was speckled with mud brown and spotted with dusty grey.

From here, the black of the drake looked glossy and unbroken.

Riona’s stomach turned with a sour twist and she moved away from the window with queasy realization. The drake was probably yet another suitor, invited by her aunt or her father to court her. The vibrant scales implied an impeccable bloodline of dragon ancestry. Exactly the kind of mate her father and aunt were hoping to marry Riona off to.

She knew her duty. Understood that the treaty that had kept them from war with the Sea Clan dragons for over four centuries required a full dragon shifter ruling Ardell. If Riona couldn’t shift, she couldn’t rule.

The only hope for the kingdom was for her to marry someone with a strong bloodline. One that would overcome her deficit and create an heir capable of shifting and, therefore, claiming the throne. Even if a Regent had to be found before her child came of age.

She knew that her family was doing their best to find a match that would make her happy. But Riona still wished the world could be different. That she could be different.

But it wasn’t. And she never would be.

Her father was relatively young and in robust health.

But every day there wasn’t a more suitable heir-in-waiting was another day closer to a broken treaty and the possibility of war.

Riona’s breath shortened into shallow gasps as the specter of her unwelcome future wrapped tighter around her. She grabbed the plain wool cloak from her closet and headed for the door, desperate to get out of her room and out of the palace. To breathe fresh air and pretend to be anyone but the princess of Ardell for a while.

A half dozen secret tunnels, staircases and bolt holes riddled the family annex of the palace, though it seemed they were all but forgotten by everyone. Everyone except Riona.

It was her one indulgence, her one, singular rebellion. When things got to be too much, she wrapped herself in a plain brown cloak and snuck outside. Sometimes to the market, where she could pretend to be any other woman going about her daily errands. Sometimes to the city gardens, where she could take in the peace and beauty of the carefully tended green space meant for noble and commoner alike. And sometimes, she snuck outside the city walls to feel the freedom of wide open space and taste the fresh, unfettered winds.

Today, Riona needed to breathe.

She kept her pace careful and unhurried, not wanting to draw unwanted attention as she moved through the halls.

When she reached the junction where the hallway of the Royal residence led to the more populated public areas of the palace, Riona breathed a sigh of relief.

A sconce, unlit in the bright afternoon sun, sat innocently in an alcove between the corridors, looking exactly like the dozens of others gracing the Palace walls. This one, however, was Riona’s most precious secret. A single pull of the arching brass would reveal a steep staircase.

“Where are you going, dear?”

Riona froze for the space of a breath when her aunt’s raspy voice called out to her. Then she tucked her cloak against her side and moved slightly away from the sconce, turning to face Velia. The step took her closer to the hall leading toward the more public areas of the palace, and she latched onto the thought.

“I was going to sit in the rose garden for a little while,” she answered, grateful her voice didn’t shake on the lie. She’d never been good at equivocation.

“Strange. I would have thought it was still a bit early in the season for the roses to bloom.”

Velia arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and Riona self-consciously tucked a loose curl of hair behind her ear. She and her aunt shared the same black hair, dark eyes, and aristocratic features but Riona always felt frumpy in comparison. Velia’s hair never escaped from its pins, her clothes always fell in pristine lines, and not a single wrinkle dared to disgrace her with untidiness.

“Did you forget you agreed to join Lady Eleanor’s reading circle today?”

Riona winced. Lady Eleanor was a hereditary member of the Royal Council and took her station extremely seriously. She considered it her duty to enlighten the younger generations of ladies on proper literature and poetry for well-bred young women. Attendance was voluntary. Except of course, that the eagle-eyed matriarch never forgot who skipped even a single meeting. And her political reach was long and powerful. No lady with any aspirations or connections dared miss her gatherings.

Even if Riona would never be queen, it was her responsibility to bolster an alliance that had served both families well for generations. She had a part to play in the politics of her kingdom and she owed it to her family and her people to work twice as hard. She would never rule, but she could still do a lot of good behind the scenes.

“Of course, I haven’t forgotten,” Riona insisted, the waver in her voice contradicting her assurance. She cleared her throat and kept talking, hoping to bluff her way out of a lecture. “I was just going to stop for a few minutes on my way to the library.”

Velia’s gaze shaded with doubt, but she apparently decided to ignore the obvious falsehood. “Fine. Just don’t get dirty. You know how fastidious Lady Eleanor is.”

Velia turned away with a last, admonishing look.

The beauty of the flashing ebony scale hovered in the back of her mind and Riona asked impulsively, “Is there another suitor coming for dinner tonight?”

She wanted to call the words back, afraid that simply speaking the possibility would make it a reality. But it was too late.

“No,” Velia answered with a frown. “I don’t believe anyone is due to visit until next week. Is there someone you were considering? Someone you’d like us to invite back for a second meal?”

There was a hopeful, yet cautious lilt in the question. As well as a hint of censure. So far, Riona hadn’t been interested in a single one of the young, eligible nobles her family had paraded in front of her.

Riona fought not to let her flinch show at the subtle reminder that she was shirking her duty. Unlike Velia, who never once complained about the political marriage she’d been forced to endure. Or how much that ill-fated match had cost her.

“No. I just thought I—”

Just thought I saw a beautiful dragon outside my window.

Riona cut the thought off before it escaped her lips. She wasn’t quite certain why. A single glimpse of the drake had intrigued her more than any of her suitors had. But if she mentioned him, no doubt he’d show up dinner, eventually. And reveal himself to be as vapid, arrogant, or insufferable as all the others so far had been.

For now, Riona wanted to wallow in the pleasant memory of the lovely drake, content that he wasn’t simply another chore she needed to endure.

“I thought I’d double check. Sometimes the readings can run long, and if I might miss dinner…”

Velia pinched her lips, no doubt wanting to lecture Riona on the importance of appearances and family dinners, even when there wasn’t a suitor waiting in the wings.

But Eleanor’s readings had been Velia’s responsibility before Riona came of age. Her aunt knew exactly how long the woman could drone on for. And how exhausting a toll those gatherings could take on body and mind.

“If you miss tonight, I’ll make excuses with your father. Be sure it’s the only night this week.”

Riona bobbed her head in silent agreement, longing for escape. But Velia pressed her lips tightly together and contemplated Riona.

“I know this isn’t easy for you. And my own arranged marriage is a cautionary tale better forgotten. But Haden is nothing like my father. He will ensure, at the very least, that you won’t be miserable. He wants you to be happy. But the longer this drags on, the less choice any of us have. You need to truly consider what is necessary to your happiness. Before time runs.”

Without giving Riona a chance to respond or even absorb everything she’d said, her aunt turned and walked away.

When Velia disappeared down the corridor, Riona looked longingly at the sconce and the promise of escape it represented. But, as much as she’d love those few, precious moments of freedom, she had responsibilities that couldn’t be ignored. Being a member of the Royal House of Ardell meant sacrificing one’s own needs for the good of the kingdom.

And, after their conversation, she didn’t really have time to even visit the palace rose garden for a few, freeing breaths of fresh air. Lady Eleanor considered tardiness one of the more egregious sins.

Squaring her shoulders, Riona headed reluctantly toward the library and the eternal afternoon of Eleanor’s dry voice reading from the most boring poetry ever set to paper.

***

The short flight of stairs was dark and dusty and Riona pressed her fingers to her nose to stifle the threatening sneeze. The tunnel at the bottom was worse. Damp, musty and filled with the occasional scurrying sounds of things Riona really didn’t want to come face to face with.

A bolthole built during the Dragon Wars centuries ago, the passage opened outside of Calmoore on an expanse of flat land. Once covered in dense forest, it had given perfect cover for fleeing inhabitants to disappear into the nearby cave system.

Except for a handful of copses of ancient trees still growing close to the thick stone walls, the land itself had long since been cleared. In recent years, the roughly oval-shaped flat expanse between the caves and the high road had been used for festivals, exhibitions, and the occasional challenge or tournament. Large enough for dozens of dragons to gather, it was the only place some of the more ancient rituals and rites could be performed properly.

The second she emerged from the tunnel, tucked into the jutting rocks that housed the rest of the caves, Riona inhaled deeply.

Spring flowers scented the wind and filled her lungs with a fresh, clean breath unlike anything she ever experienced among the heavy press of population filling Calmoore’s walls. The setting sun cast long spikes of gold and yellow light over the rippling grass.

It was one of her favorite places to come as a child. Every summer, drakes arrived from all over the kingdom to enter tournaments or show off skills and feats of talent and daring for eager crowds.

As much as she wanted to run through the wide-open space of the festival field, anyone on the walls or glancing out of the palace would see her frolicking. It would only add to the whispers and head shaking and questioning.

Instead, Riona stuck to the long shadow cast by the wall, using the intermittent trees as further cover. Skirting the edge of the city, she followed the fortifications until they butted up against rocky hills that protected the back side of the Calmoore. But she kept her eyes turned toward the beckoning expanse of the festival field, wishing that things were different. That her world wasn’t quickly narrowing to series of choices, each more restricting than the last.

As a child, she’d been fascinated by the variety of hues and the dexterity, the ingenuity and the shows of strength. Back then, she couldn’t wait until her first shift to find out her own colors. To stretch her wings and learn all the phenomenal abilities her full form possessed.

She couldn’t wait to fly.

Traditionally, a drake would attempt to shift for the first time on their thirteenth birthday. Some took a few more years before their form came to them. Some would accidentally shift early in times of stress or excitement.

But for Riona, neither of those things happened. Each year, she’d eagerly, expectantly, attempted to change her form. And each year, the whispers got louder when she failed.

Unsuitable. Weak. Defective.

Out of habit, Riona brushed her thumb over the pendant she wore. An oval cabochon of bloodstone engraved with a dragon rampant standing on the crest of the Royal Family.

Every drake’s first gift was a similar sigil. Sometimes a ring or brooch. But always a stone carved with a dragon’s image. It proudly declared their dragon bloodline and all that came with that ancestry. Her aunt had placed the family heirloom around her neck on the day she was born.

Despite her parentage and lineage, some whispered that she shouldn’t wear it at all, considering her… disadvantage.

Now, Riona kept it on a long chain, always tucked beneath the neckline of her dress. But she refused to take it off. Refused to give it up. Refused to forsake her dream of flying.

Deep down, she was certain she was a drake. That she had a full form within her demanding release. She only needed to find a way to let it out.

And that was why she was here.

She no longer made attempts on her birthday. No longer put herself on display to show the world her disappointment.

Instead, whenever she could sneak away, she came here, alone and unobserved, to wrestle with whatever demon or defect kept her from her full potential.

Breathing deep, Riona remembered the colorful flash of wings and flashy exhibitions of the last festival. The prism of scales as drakes of every hue swooped and spiraled and soared in a nonstop parade of spectacles. She remembered the grace and strength and command of aerial acrobatics. The ferocity and exhilaration of mock tournaments as contenders fought to be champion.

And she remembered the elusive, silvery bite in the air. The way her blood pulsed with excitement and affinity. Riona let the elation flow through her again. Energy sparked along her skin and cracked in the atmosphere with a metallic hum. The pull of ancestors and clan chased through her veins.

Overwhelming sensations raced toward her core in a roar of power and certainty.

Only to stop.

Abrupt and sharp, everything ended. Like the tidal wave hit a wall around her heart and just…

Melted into nothing.

Like it never had been.

Like she’d imagined it all, but couldn’t quite hold on to the fantasy in the face of the reality of her body’s stubborn refusal to change.

A scream of frustration bubbled in her throat. A dozen words she wasn’t supposed to know trembled on her tongue. But training and upbringing stilled the urge.

Anger and harsh language revealed too much. Were a poor reflection on her status and her family. They only fueled rancor and escalated situations. They never resolved or helped.

Riona needed to be calm. To think.

But years of calmness hadn’t freed her from her bound existence.

Doubt and guilt and anxiety settled leadenly in her stomach. Maybe there was nothing to be free of. Maybe she was unsuitable, weak, and defective.

Shoulders slumped and head hanging, Riona turned away from the hopeful happy memories of the festival grounds, ready to trudge back to the damp tunnel.

A flash stopped her halfway, though. Something glimmered in the cave, reflecting the last rays of the setting sun.

Riona knew she should return to her room before anyone realized she’d left the city. Back to all the reminders of who she was supposed to be. Of what she’d never become. The raw disappointment of yet another failure made the thought unbearable.

So she let curiosity draw her across the field. Inside the cave, a sleeping dragon curled around itself, body rising and falling with each steady breath.

Not just any dragon.

The ebony dragon.

Pure black scales so glossy they took on a silvered hue. Like polished hematite.

Not near enough to touch, Riona’s hand stretched out anyway. An involuntary urge to stroke over the smooth surface and feel the warm give of scales under her fingers.

With a gasp, she snatched her hand back, shocked at her own impulsive audaciousness. The soft sound echoed loudly off the cave’s walls.

The dragon’s head jerked toward the mouth of the cave and his eyes snapped open. For a moment, Riona felt like she was drowning in blue as deep as the sea.

Then his eyelids lowered, shadowing the color and a faint puff of smoke trickled out of his snout with a startled, irritated huff. It roused her from her shocked daze and she stumbled backward. But the drake surged to his feet and rushed toward her.

She ducked instinctively but it was unnecessary. The dragon launched himself out of the cave, his powerful leap easily clearing her. Two determined thrusts of strong wings catapulted him high into the air.

“Wait!”

It surprised her when he did, hovering above her uncertainly.

“I just want…” Riona started but trailed off. She had no idea what she wanted. It was simply that he was beautiful and commanding and she’d never seen a full form like his. His eyes had been startled and, even now, he looked wary and uncertain. A bright spark of empathy tugged deep inside of Riona to reassure him.

But she couldn’t find any words. A moment later, it didn’t matter. He flexed his wings in another hard push, propelling himself straight up before turning southward and rushing away.

He was beautiful. Powerful. One of the biggest forms she’d ever seen, yet he floated on the currents with an easy agility that belied his size.

Riona stood in the clearing, head thrown back and eyes locked on the retreating form, absorbing the beauty of his flight until she could longer see him.

A vicious tangle knotted her in place. Sheer appreciation of his grace and strength. A hot spike of jealousy that she’d never fly at all, let alone with his ease. And a small twinge of intrigue. A burning ember of curiosity about the strange dragon.

One that would probably never be appeased.

With a last glance at the disappearing speck no longer recognizable as the ebony dragon, Riona trudged back across the field.

She should tell someone the encounter. Duty and responsibility demanded it of her.

But honestly, what was there to tell?

There was no law against a dragon sleeping in the cave. There were a dozen reasons for him to be out there. Perhaps he was traveling and needed rest. Or perhaps he lived within the city and wanted a chance to stretch his wings and indulge in his full form. Her window overlooked the field and she watched drakes out there all the time. Shifting forms for the freedom of a few hours flight beyond the confines of the city’s laws and walls.

The fact that she’d stumbled on one was not momentous.

And, if someone had startled her awake in the middle of the night in a strange place, she would probably have run away, too.

She knew she was stretching for excuses, but it was true all the same. She really didn’t have anything dangerous or suspicious to report.

And reporting what she saw, admitting how she knew, meant explaining how she’d gotten to the fields in the first place. And her father, adoring as he was, was also extremely overprotective of his only child. The secret stairwell would be blocked.

And no doubt, he’d find the handful of other ways she knew in and out of the palace as well. Riona would be trapped. Without even the occasional chance to escape.

She loved her family, respected the honor and duty and responsibility of her position.

But, every once in a while, she needed to breathe. To forget who and what she was and just be nobody for a time.

Soon, if her father and aunt had their way, she’d be married off to a suitable mate, and her freedom would be curtailed even more.

So she’d forget about the black dragon and keep the secret to herself. For the time being, she would cling to the little freedom she had left.