“Nerds always hiding the good stuff,” I murmur under my breath, struggling to maintain my concentration on the energy flowing through the pillar.
“Shift!” Penn's command echoes against the walls.
I hear their growls as they rip wide open, bones crackling, skin stretching and muscle fibers lashing out until they’re fully transformed. I can't breathe. Where two men stood moments ago, dragons now tower, their shadows falling across the arena floor. Meraxis's scales catch the light, deep brown with purple undertones that shimmer when he moves. Beside him, Harding's body gleams crimson, edged in gold like embers.
I remember Dayn's form—even larger, more terrible in its majesty—but both are still huge in my eyes. Their gazes burn with ancient intelligence, fangs longer than my forearm curve from powerful jaws. I grip the pillar harder. These creatures have been here all along, hidden beneath our feet.What happens when they decide the underground isn't enough anymore? What happens to humanity when dragons reclaim the sky?
“Volunteers, focus!” Penn’s voice booms across the arena. “Dragons! Fight! Go easy, you’re just getting used to this place. Practice your stances and springs first!”
I hold my focus, inwardly in awe at what I’m witnessing.
Meraxis is shy. He doesn’t attack first. Harding, on the other hand, is eager to prove himself—or put the nerd down. Either way, he’s got plenty of spunk. But he’s big and brawny, heavy and nowhere near as agile as Meraxis. The brown dragon dodges each of Harding’s sprints.
When Harding lands, Meraxis swerves to the side, claws scratching harshly across the thick, stone floor.
“Keep at it, Harding. You’ll get him!” Penn encourages the red dragon.
Meraxis huffs and gives the instructor a glare, golden fires burning in his eyes. I see a smile stretch across Penn’s face. He’s riling Meraxis up on purpose, and it works. Meraxis lunges first, this time, and I’m mesmerized by his grace and agility.
He pounces like a cat. A big, brown cat.
Harding greets him with his jaw wide open.
He bites into his throat.
“Harding, don’t!” Penn shouts, quick to realize that Harding had different plans. “Harding!”
Meraxis shrieks, his neck elongating so he can clamp down on Harding in return. Penn is already unbuttoning his tunic, ready to leap in, as the younger dragons turn what was supposed to be light sparring into a dangerous brawl.
Some students cheer. Others gasp in shock.
I stare, watching as the dragons become entangled. They roll on the ground, over and over until they reach a dangerous speed, and they’re both hurtling toward my side of the arena.
“Esme, hold the shield!” I hear Nyssa scream.
But I lost track of that. I’m frozen as the incredible beasts hurtle. I catch a glimpse of the shield cracking open between us. The shimmers fade.
“Esme!”
“Darkblood!” Penn growls. “Focus!”
It’s too late. The thought is a cold, sharp point in my mind. My focus is gone, scattered by the overwhelming spectacle of tooth and claw. The dragons are a blur of crimson and brown, a tumbling massof fury and pain, and they’re coming right for me. My hand is still in the pillar, but the energy is gone, the connection severed.
Then heat slams into my back. A solid presence, caging me against the pillar. A large, warm hand covers mine inside the stone opening, engulfing it completely. The scent of ozone and ancient fire fills my senses. Dayn.
Power surges through me, a raw, blistering torrent that isn't mine. It floods the pillar, and the shield before us erupts in a blinding sheet of golden light just as two tons of dragon flesh slams into it. The impact shudders through the stone, through Dayn’s body, into mine. The shield holds.
“I told you to be careful,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear, his voice a low vibration that resonates in my bones. “Seems you're still not very good at listening.”
On the other side of the now-flickering shield, Harding lies in a heap of crimson scales, a ragged gash in his shoulder weeping dark, sluggish blood onto the floor. Meraxis, his own brown hide scored with claw and fang marks, stumbles back, shifting into human form with a shuddering gasp. He’s naked, shaking, and staring at the blood on his hands as if he can’t comprehend what he’s done.
Around the arena, the other students yank their hands from the pillars as if burned. The shield dissolves into nothing.
“You!” Commander Penn’s roar cuts through the stunned silence. He storms across the arena floor, his face a thundercloud of fury, his accusing finger leveled directly at me. “This is your doing, darkblood! Your weakness compromised the field! You endangered everyone!”
Before he can take another step, Dayn moves, placing himself between me and the commander, a wall of black leather and silent authority. His heat is a furnace in front of me, his presence an absolute.
“Her doing, Commander?” Dayn’s voice is deceptively soft, yet it commands the attention of the entire hall. “Or was it yours? You pitted a scholar against a brute. A Meraxis against a Harding.” His gaze sweeps the room, cold and sharp. “Did you truly believecenturies of bad blood between their houses would evaporate because you ordered a light spar?”
