Chapter One
Ethan
The world was wide and open, and I couldn’t wait to spend the rest of my life exploring every inch of it… savoring every slip through reality.
My powerful legs propelled me forward, though the tall pine trees that towered hundreds of feet above me. My paws landed on the lush, rich ground, thudding a pagan war sound that signaled to the world we were hunting. My tail flew out from behind me as my white fur blended into the thick ferns that coated the area. My sharp ears could pick out the sound of waterfalls in the distance, birds chirping, lake churning with fish. My nose caught onto the scent of the mountains… fresh rain… and I enjoyed the blissful sun rays as they beamed onto my back.
This forest was old… very old. Probably as ancient as the world itself. The original Founders had come here millennia ago to form the country of Malovia in Eastern Europe, and had left the wilderness mostly untouched. They took only what they needed to survive and build the community. That was the way of the Arcanea. Our world was one from medieval times, a living, breathing monument in the modern, digital age, passed down from our fae ancestors. We stuck to the old ways, as was our tradition.
My name was Prince Ethan, and one day, I would be King of the Arcanea. I wanted to follow in the footsteps of my fore rulers. I wished to protect nature and my people equally. Arcanea, magic, and the land, living together in perfect harmony. It was my dream.
I ran for a mile more before I came to an open clearing. I paused to catch my breath. I wanted to give an experimental howl, to see if any other wolvens were nearby, but that might scare the monster off. I stayed put, trying to figure out where to go next. I’d run all around the nature preserve, but it went on for hundreds of miles. Even working together, my father’s entire hunting brigade probably hadn’t covered a tenth of what was out here.
I heard the roar of a dragon above, along with a long shadow. I searched the skies, and changed into my human form. Fur became clothes, and I went from standing on four legs to two. I sat on a nearby boulder to wait.
There was a loud sound nearby like a creature was landing, and the ground shook. I heard a rustle in the trees, and the scent of scales and smoke. A few moments later, a man stepped out of the trees and stood beside me, smirking.
“Miss me, white wolf?”
I tossed a rock at the dragon shifter. “I just saw you this morning. Far too soon, in my opinion.”
Stefan dodged the rock, and it hit a nearby tree. It made a blasting sound and shattered off a chunk of the trunk, sending bark and splinters everywhere. I suppose I must’ve thrown it too hard.
Stefan gave a sarcastic noise. “Your temper’s getting worse than mine. You could’ve killed me.”
“It would’ve bounced off your thick skull. Nothing can penetrate that boulder you call a head.”
“That’s not the only part of me rumored to be harder than stone,” Stefan boasted.
I would’ve laughed if I knew that wouldn’t encourage him, so I forced the grin off my face. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my time out here listening to crude jokes from my buddy. We had a job to do.
Stefan was the same age as I was, twenty now, and was taller and broader than me. He had black hair, black eyes, and a look that dared someone to try and piss him off. And oh, how he enjoyed himself when they did. He liked toying with his prey, human or animal. We were in the same grade at Arcanea University, both about to head into our Third Year.
“Did you see any trace of it?” I asked him, specifically referencing the monster in question.
Stefan shook his head before he drew out his cell phone. He sent a quick text, probably to his commander, before shoving it back in his pocket.
Although our race made use of modern technology alongside our ancient customs, we kept our society hidden from humans to ensure our survival. After all, if the human world found out there were sorceresses mated to men who could change into dragons, wolves, alicorns and griffins, they’d surely kill us all. There were a lot more of them than there were of us. Our sorceresses kept our city hidden from humans with their magical illusions and wards, to prevent such a chaotic event.
But sometimes, there were mistakes. And if whatever we were hunting got out into the human world, it could expose us. Which meant we needed to kill it. Fast.
“I lost whatever we’re trailing somewhere over the falls,” Stefan said. “It just up and vanished.”
“Dammit.” This was concerning. The monster had already slain three people, and we had yet to discover what it was. This forest was huge— one of the largest in modern Europe. It could be anywhere.
“Sure you’re not losing your touch, High Prince of the Arcanea?” Stefan asked in a scathing tease.
I smiled. Stefan was a prick. But it was always good to have a dragon as a best friend, so I kept him around. No one liked to argue when you had muscle to back you up, and in the land of the Arcanea, violence was the only language people knew.
“I’m quite bored. Want to race?” Stefan asked.
I laughed. “Not much of a contest, with me stuck on the ground and you using your wings.”
“Better run fast, then.” Stefan pounced, and rose into the air. His body shifted mid-jump to become a large black dragon’s, nearly twenty-five feet in length. He tore down trees as he ascended, spreading his leathery and spiny wings to their full span. His scales were the color of obsidian rock, and sunlight bounced off his scales, as if light couldn’t bear to touch the inky-blackness. Long, curved horns grew out of his head, and white, sharp fangs hung over the lips of his mouth. Spines grew along his back, ending in a sharp barb at the end of his tail that he’d threatened to stick me with one too many times. He gave a roar that sounded like an insult. I gave him a rude gesture in response. He was already several lengths ahead of me.
We were supposed to be working, but we’d been trailing the mysterious monster now for three days now, and we were exhausted. So what was the harm in having a little fun?
I bounded back into my shifter-skin and chased after him. I increased my strides in order to catch up, and found that I had to push myself to retain speed. Stefan was more or less gliding effortlessly over the trees. I was no small wolf by any means— nearly twelve feet in length myself and half that in height— but I had yet to gain my wings as an Arcanea, and therefore had to run everywhere I went. Asshole.
