Page 17 of Stolen By Dragons

I sighed, pushing myself up in bed. The events of the previous day swirled in my mind, a confusing mix of fear, wonder, and uncertainty. After dinner, I'd sat with Chris and Zephyr for what felt like hours, trying to process everything we'd learned. Lydia had left early, the weight of separation from her family clearly heavy on her shoulders.

I’d wanted to comfort her, hating how lost she had looked as she'd walked away.

Chris's words echoed in my memory: "Let her go. She'll likely find another feline shifter to grieve with. Sometimes, it's easier to be with your own kind in moments like these."

We'd talked late into the night, dissecting every bit of information we'd gleaned. Chris had mentioned overhearing some Dracarians referring to us as "tainted ones" when they thought we couldn't hear. Something Eirian had called us as well.

"There's some clear disdain for us," he'd said, his jaw clenching. "Which is absurd, considering they want our help."

Eventually, we'd all retreated to our rooms. I'd found myself standing on the balcony, feeling just as lost and overwhelmed as everyone else. That's when I'd decided to go back to the communal area, hoping to find... well, I wasn't sure what. Company? Comfort? Instead, I'd ended up crying alone by the fire. Until Ossian appeared.

A sharp knock on my door jolted me from my thoughts. "Dining hall for breakfast!" a voice called out. "All must attend!"

Great, now we were on a damn schedule. Then again, being around others sounded good right about now. Anything to distract me from it all, and my embarrassment with Ossian.

I clambered out of my bed, casting a look outside to the fantasy world I was now in before I hurried to the shower. As the warm water washed over me, I tried to focus on the day ahead,pushing thoughts of vampire kisses and world-ending threats to the back of my mind.

Yeah right, there was no way I could shove that shit aside.

After drying off, I noticed a stack of fresh clothes on the bed - they hadn't been there the night before. It looked like some kind of uniform or gym outfit, all in shades of gray and blue.

Had someone come in while I was in the shower? Not creepy at all.

I pulled them on, surprised at how well they fit.

The dining hall was buzzing with nervous energy when I arrived. Everyone was dressed in similar outfits, creating an odd sense of unity among our diverse group. I spotted Chris and Zephyr at a table and made my way over to them, feeling a flutter in my stomach as Chris smiled at me.

"Morning," he said, his hazel eyes warm. "Sleep okay?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. There was something growing between us, a connection I couldn't quite name. It made my moment with Ossian fade away.

As I sat down, I caught sight of Ossian across the room. So much for the memory fading away. Our eyes met for a brief moment before I quickly looked away, heat rising to my cheeks. I could’ve sworn he’d smiled at me, but I wasn’t about to check. My heart had skipped a beat, and right now, it felt like I was back at high school.

I glanced around, spotting Lydia with some others at another table, including the tiger shifter who’d snapped at Chris when we’d first arrived. So she was with other shifters like her.

She caught my gaze and offered me a small smile.

Elowen's voice cut through the chatter, commanding everyone's attention. "Good morning," she said, her otherworldly beauty somehow enhanced by the simple training clothes she wore. So unfair, but I couldn’t hate on those blessed naturally. Mine didn’t exactly fit terribly.

“Today, we begin your training. Being in Dracaria means you now have access to the magic lying dormant in your blood. Our studies indicate that you should be of the same tier as soft-blood Dracarians."

"What does that mean?" Zephyr asked, voicing the question we were all thinking.

Elowen paused, seemingly considering how much to reveal. "In Dracaria, there are different classes of blood. The high-borne, like myself and Eirian, are descendants of the purest lines from the first dragons. We possess the strongest abilities, including the power to shift into dragon form. Soft-bloods have diluted but still potent Dracarian heritage, although not quite that of the ancients. They cannot shift, but they possess enhanced strength, speed, advanced senses, and the ability to manifest claws when needed. Then there are the low-borne, who have the least Dracarian blood. They've lost all supernatural abilities.”

She paused, letting the information sink in. "Our belief is that most of you should have abilities similar to soft-bloods, though the mixing with various supernatural races may produce some... unexpected results."

A hand shot up from the crowd. It belonged to a tall, lanky man. "If we're supposed to be like soft-bloods, what makes us special? How are we different from the soft-bloods and low-borne already here in Dracaria?"

Elowen nodded, as if she'd been expecting this question. "An excellent inquiry. Despite the dilution of your bloodlines over generations, you somehow carry strong traces of pure Dracarian lines within you. It's these traces that allowed our magic to track you when we opened the portals to seek you out. In essence, you have the potential to access abilities that have been lost to most soft-bloods and all low-borne in Dracaria."

A murmur rippled through the crowd at this revelation. I caught Chris's eye, seeing my own mix of surprise and skepticism reflected there.

Another voice called out, this time from a woman near the back. "How long do we have? Before we have to... you know, battle this Void thing?"

For the first time, I saw a flicker of uncertainty cross Elowen's face. She quickly masked it, but not before I caught it.

"Based on our calculations and the increasing frequency of shadow creature sightings, we estimate we have several months before a full-scale invasion begins," she said, her voice steady. "It's not as much time as we'd like, but it should be sufficient for your training. We will make every day count."

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