RELUCTANCE

4

Aria looked across the Sanctum River at the multiple shifters from each of the provinces, some in their animal forms, some in their mortal bodies. Her own family and friends stood around her. Both sides were bloody and battered from the battle that had prefaced the splicing of the river in two.

Through the slight blur of the border wall, she noticed Luka, the dragon general's son, pacing near the edge of the water. She had only seen him once before at last year's Solstice Sanctum meeting. But she recognized his wide chest and shoulder-length, dark brown wavy hair that flowed into a manicured beard trimmed close to his face. A large black dragon laid behind Luka, unmoving.

A sickened moan came from behind her. She turned to find the Allarian army, weapons drawn, fronted by the rest of the Royal Assembly. Her parents stood at the head, her mother's face in her hands while her father paced beside his wife.

"What—" Aria started. But she was interrupted as the earth shook under her feet. A terrible voice boomed from all around them, everywhere and nowhere at once.

"My children of Wren," it started, "you shall no longer cross into each other's lands in the name of conflict. Any who try shall meet their end. Until you can make peace with one another, this wall will stand."

She looked toward the water. The glimmering wall stretched as far as the river flowed and as high as the sky, looming and shimmering above them. She expected more words, more explanation from the ominous voice of Mallium, unhappy with the battles that had raged for nearly the entirety of their history. But she got no further context from the angry god.

More than scared, she felt curiously drawn to the water. To the wall. She felt her feet moving but couldn't understand why. The water creeped up her shins, to her knees, hips, chest, until she was almost overtaken by it. She was so close, almost close enough to touch the barrier. She reached for it—

"Aria, no!"

She woke suddenly, bolting upright in a cold sweat, her sheets balled at her feet from tossing and turning. It was just a dream. A dream that had felt so lifelike it took her a few blinks to realize she was safe in her own room. It wasn't real. Just a dream , she repeated, calming herself.

The balcony doors to her left were still shut, as was the door to the hallway. Thunder rumbled beyond the walls. She let out a shallow sigh of relief, brushing damp wisps of hair out of her face.

Aria grabbed the ends of her sheets and flapped them furiously until they straightened out so she could lay them properly along the sides of the bed again. She hated sleeping exposed, so she must have really slept fitfully to have kicked the covers completely away. It was quite a feat to tangle up the entire length of the fabric considering her bed was sprawling enough to fit at least three others. Something, she admitted, she knew from experience .

She glanced again to the balcony. The drizzling rain that had lulled her quickly to sleep still pattered against the windows. Dawn had not yet started to break across the horizon, so she decided it was worth trying to rest a bit longer. Tomorrow— or today? —was going to be a long one, accompanying her parents to the Solstice Sanctum. A full day's flight.

Each year during the Solstice Festival, the seers delivered sacrifices for Mallium into the vast abyss of the molten center at the peak of the tallest mountain that had erupted three centuries ago. In exchange, he provided a prophetic vision for the head seer, Selene, to share with the people of Wren—fae and shifter alike.

So, one week after the festival, both realms sent their leaders to hear the decree. Last year's prophecy was nothing special, mostly just more of the same empty threats to stop fighting amongst yourselves they had heard every year prior. But because there had been no physical fighting—save that one scuffle a few years ago—no one really took his decrees seriously anymore. It felt more like a parent asking their children to play nicely than an ancient, all-powerful deity's threatening demands.

Thus, every year, the Allarian King and Queen, along with the rest of the Royal Assembly, made the mostly ceremonious trip. Though Aria had never spoken to anyone from the democratically ruled Legion Council of Denover about their opinion on the annual gathering, she assumed they also felt like the trip was a waste of time. No one liked traveling all day just to sit in a room with their enemies and then journey back home with nothing changed, nothing gained.

Even though she wasn't necessarily looking forward to the trip, it did provide a good opportunity for her to glimpse her future duties. That was the whole reason her parents let her tag along, starting last year, even though she wasn't an official member of the Royal Assembly yet. Although, considering her parents still hopefully had centuries left to rule—gods forbid anything happened to them—she'd have plenty of time to learn those things.

Maybe I'll skip next year's, she thought, drifting back to sleep.

***

Luka landed with a soft thud outside the entrance of the Legion Academy as the sun threatened over the horizon, his dragon-scaled armor replacing his full coat of scales as he resumed his mortal form. It would have taken a fae twice the time it took him to fly from the Zephyr castle back to the Academy, but his expansive wings allowed him to travel swiftly through the night sky, camouflaged by the storm clouds against his black scales, hiding him from view of the Allarian guards.

Going around the wall and past the heavily-guarded coastline was his only option, aside from traveling through the neutral territory of the Solstice Sanctum on the west side of the continent, where express permission from the other realm was needed to enter.

The option he chose was obviously much riskier and seen as an act of war, if caught. Which, of course, he was not.

The dragon shifter sauntered up to the familiar gates of the Academy, the place he'd lived for much of his life. Home.

Like the fae, the shifters enlisted their young into military training. Unlike the fae, shifters could be sent to the Academy as soon as their parents felt they were ready. Also unlike the fae, Academy training was mandatory. Shifters had to enlist and graduate, and then they could pursue other things if they wanted .

With Luka's mother being Head General of the Legion Council, and leader of the Dragon Province, he was pre-trained and ready to enter the Academy when he was just fourteen. And after the death of his father… Well, he would have entered even earlier if his mother had let him. Enlisting wasn't always required, but because of the battle at the border, the Council voted to make it so. The fae outnumbered the shifters by a significant margin, so they wanted to make sure every civilian was prepared to fight in case war broke out.

The Legion Council, made up of the three provincial Generals, ruled Denover as democratically as possible to maintain peace among their realm. Each of the Academy's captains, like Luka, reported to the Council and led their own squadron consisting of a small group of shifters from each province.

As the most senior captain, Luka focused most of his time on training other captains, and some of the younger students, whenever he wasn't on missions—like last night.

"Captain Fulgara, welcome back," the entry guard on duty greeted him.

Luka nodded to the wolf shifter, "Alert the Council that the Zephyr family is preparing for departure, as expected. Including the princess. I have other duties to attend to before meeting them for our own flight." He eyed the sun, now peeking out over the landscape. He would have to be quick. His mother hated tardiness.

The Academy began to wake, showing the first signs of morning activity. He headed to the dining hall where he assumed he would find his target, who refused to be seen in the mornings until she'd had at least three cups of coffee.

Luka grabbed a cup of his own from the coffee cart against the wall, stifling a yawn. He would need it after an all-night watch that was stretching into a sleepless flight to the Sanctum. He thought he might have been able to grab a few hours of rest, but that fucking princess didn't start packing for the trip until the moon was high in the sky and he couldn't risk her being there —

"Hey, handsome," Evelyn purred behind Luka's ear, jolting him out of his thoughts. He turned to find the panther shifter, still in her nightgown, coffee in hand, as he'd expected.

"Just who I was looking for," he smiled easily. Evelyn looked stunning this morning, even just having rolled out of bed. Her pale skin and bright gold eyes heavily contrasted the long, black waves that cascaded—albeit a bit messily—down to her waist.

"Are we set for today?" she asked, searching Luka's eyes as she took a sip from her steaming mug. Despite dragon shifters being much taller than most wolves or panthers, Evelyn stood nearly the same height as him, making her intense stare and broad curves that much more commanding. And her panther stealth all the more impressive.

"Yeah, I saw the princess packing for the flight last night. And the king and queen's guards should be attending with them," he explained, letting a small yawn escape. "Why aren't you in your training gear?"

"Malachi gave me the day off to prepare for tonight's mission," she said, eyeing him with concern at his sign of fatigue. "Which you should have done yesterday, by the looks of it. Did you get any sleep?"

"No. I just got back a few minutes ago and I'm supposed to meet the Council at the gates soon," he explained, taking a deep gulp of the hot, brown liquid he hoped might provide some relief from the exhaustion threatening to drag him under.

"What took you so long to get back?" she teased in that deeply seductive voice of hers. "Did big ol' Captain Fulgara finally get deterred by a little storm?" Evelyn feigned a pout behind her mug.

" Ha, ha ," he faked a laugh at the mockery of his family's powers—the only clan of dragons able to navigate safely into thunder clouds. For other dragons, being accidentally struck by lightning was a death sentence. But not him.

When lightning struck a dragon from the Fulgara family line, it was channeled, shooting out of their tail. If timed right, it could be harnessed as a weapon against enemies. This power, which Luka still didn't quite understand why or how their family had obtained, made them the most powerful shifters in Denover.

It was also the reason why, for centuries, they had been elected to serve as the generals of the Dragon Province, and heads of the Legion Council, his mother assuming the title after his father's death.

"Unfortunately our little princess came home late and decided not to pack until the very last minute. I wanted to be sure she was planning on leaving so you wouldn't have to deal with her or her staff," he explained. "You're welcome."

"I could have handled it," she said, rolling her eyes. "Points of entry?"

"Her room is on the top floor of the southeast corner so it should be a straight shot from the coast. And she has a balcony, so if you can get up to it, going through her room might be the fastest way to navigate to her parents' chambers," he said before finishing off the last of his coffee. "The princess may not have any intel, but she's got a ton of papers and books strewn around. Might be worth checking while you're there."

"Got it. I've got a date tomorrow so I'm planning to get in, get information, and get back," Evelyn explained. Luka's eyebrows raised. "Oh, don't act so shocked," she grinned, "A girl has needs. "

"Whatever you say," he smiled. "Just be careful."

"Always," she confirmed. "Now go bathe before you leave. You reek of Allar." Evelyn walked away with her nose wrinkled, wide hips swishing, drawing attention from anyone with eyes as she made her way back to her room.

Luka shook his head. So dramatic .

He refilled his cup and headed toward his own room, planning to take Evelyn up on her suggestion. He may not have literally smelled like the fae, but he had definitely worked up a sweat on the racing flight home.

Draining his second cup before he reached his room, he placed the empty mug on his desk, which was covered in piles of papers filled with Legion Council meeting notes, next to a few books on battle strategy that were stacked on one side. His one experience with battle wasn't much to go off, but he'd be damned if he ever had to experience what his father went through. Luka was determined to be prepared for every scenario, often studying late into the night when others were asleep so he could focus without being interrupted.

Luka stripped out of his flight armor and trekked across the cold floor to the tub. As it filled, he blew a gentle fire around the metal basin to warm the water within. He hated having to heat the water over a stove. Or worse, asking the Academy staff to do it. One of the many perks of his flames.

He sank into the warmth, clouds of steam rising from the water, wishing he had time to fully enjoy the sensation. He scrubbed soap over his body, lathering the hair on his head and the tufts that spread across his broad chest and down his stomach. As he wandered lower, his mind conjured the image of Evelyn's thin nightgown before he quickly stanched the thought. She's not yours , he reminded himself with a short sigh. Not anymore, at least .

Things had ended on good terms a while ago, but he still found himself missing her. Evelyn wasn't really one for relationships, and he wasn't going to force her hand. As the successor to his mother's seat on the Council, he needed someone who wanted to commit to a true partnership. Evelyn wasn't ready for that. She might never be. And he had to be okay with that.

They had both taken other partners to bed since, but none had proven a good match for him. Not emotionally, anyway. And he was more interested in romantic attachment than physical. But it was hard finding someone who he was sure wouldn't take advantage of his status. So he finally stopped bothering.

Reluctantly raising himself out of the water, he dried off with the nearest towel and dressed in a fresh set of flight armor—a set he'd sewn himself from his own shed scales over the years. Most other dragon shifters didn't bother with armor, but Luka preferred to be prepared. Especially around the fae.

Luka gathered his things, sheathed his sword across his back, and made his way to the gates.