Cracked Open: The Dragon Born Academy Read online

  Pulling out what looked like an old-fashioned shift, I asked, “What’s this?”

  The garment's thin fabric had a scooped neck, no sleeves, and the shape of a pillowcase.

  “That’s for the ritual,” she answered.

  An uncomfortable smile flitted across my lips, but before I had time to make a sarcastic comment, Calla held a hand up to stop me.

  Moving to the doorway, she said, “Breakfast is at 7 a.m. sharp. Please get up early to shower and be ready. Someone will be over to lead you to the Main Hall at 6:40.”

  I nodded, dropping the shift back inside the bag.

  Just when I thought she’d left, she popped back in. “Oh yeah, before you leave here, strip the bedding and put the sheets in the hamper. Fold the blanket and place it on the bed. You may leave your packed suitcase in the living room. Six forty sharp—be ready!”

  I held up the bag with the shift, an incredulous smirk on my lips. “What about this?”

  “Bring it with you tomorrow. Oh! And dress warm, we’ll be outside almost all day. We’ve never done the ritual in winter, so you’ll be hiking through the snow. Dr. Weaver, myself and a few others will be with you, so don’t be afraid.”

  I breathed out a laugh, “I’m not. I’ve been all over the world, seen a lot of crazy stuff. I’ve been to dangerous countries and worked with deadly viruses. I’m not afraid of some silly ritual.” I actually felt sorry for this woman—all these superstitions and silly beliefs. “We both know that I’m just biding my time until my dad gets here—which he will. This will be like living with that tribe again in the Amazon. I’m not going to buy into whatever you’re selling. I’ve been there, done that... got the t-shirt. So, don’t expect me to share your beliefs.”

  I don’t like being treated like a child. At sixteen and a half, I had more life experience than most adults. However, I’m not usually this blunt and ill-mannered, and as soon as the words left my tongue, I felt terrible about being so rude.

  I blame the jet lag.

  But in the end, Calla didn’t look mad, she just looked worried. Her hand tightened on the doorknob, and she sucked in an audible breath. “Let’s hope for your sake that you aren’t Dragonborn.”

  2

  Insistent knocking brought me out of a deep, dreamless sleep.

  “All right already! What?” I groaned. My head pounded like a hangover and brought to mind Lori’s homemade mead. She was another scientist who worked with my dad. The two had an on again off again type of relationship.

  A masculine voice answered me from the other side of the door, “I’ve been sent to bring you to the Main Hall... Are you sleeping?”

  “I was… until you woke me up!” I checked my phone, still plugged into the wall. “It’s only 6:25! I thought Breakfast was at seven?”

  His footsteps led away, and I could hear a muffled, “Kids… I don’t need this right now.” Then when he returned, he yelled out, “You ready yet?”

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, I yawned and stretched. “Well, you can calm down, because I’m going to need about thirty minutes…”

  The door barged inward and then… he filled the frame.

  Tall, dark & deadly sexy.

  For several seconds I forgot how to breathe.

  The stranger’s jet black hair curled slightly onto his forehead, giving him a roguish appearance. Pale blue eyes rimmed with thick black lashes stared into my own.

  My heart caught in my throat.

  Something passed between us, and I felt frozen in place.

  His initial annoyance had been replaced with confusion until a more primal expression settled on his features.

  The stranger wore a black military uniform with a white dragon insignia. I wondered if he could be a senior or part of the academy’s ROTC program.

  Hello, Private Pantydropper.

  Whatever his age or rank, it worked for me, making me shiver.

  After we’d been staring at each other for an amount of time that was well past awkward, he blinked and seemed to break the spell.

  “We need to go—get dressed.” He told me, standing in my doorway and piercing me with those eyes.

  It was as if he couldn’t bring himself to turn away.

  Trying to repress a self-satisfied smirk, I made a shooing motion. “Well? Get out! Are you just going to stand there and watch?”

  A chagrined expression crossed his chiseled features as he turned on his heel, closing the door behind his tall frame.

  “Don’t take all day,” he growled.

  “I’ll be ready!” I yelled back, then cringed when my head throbbed again. Flying always made me dehydrated.

  Crap! I’d wanted a shower! Instead, I sniffed the hoodie and jeans I’d worn yesterday and groaned. They stunk of airport and body odor. Stuffing the jeans into my bag, I pulled out a pair of clean leggings. Donning those with the dirty hoodie over my lace bralette and underwear, I cringed. At least my bottoms were clean.

  Once dressed, I yanked the sheets and threw them into the hamper before scooping the duvet out of its cover. I gave the blanket a quick fold before tossing it onto the bed.

  It was messy, but I didn’t trust the soldier not to drag me away when the time was up.

  I tugged at my still unopened suitcase and jerked it through the door, down the hallway, and down the stairs.

  The soldier stood, hands clasped behind his back, staring out the front window.

  I laughed and tried to make conversation, “Holy crap! What a way to wake up! That wasn’t exactly the warmest of welcomes. I’m guessing you know who I am, but who are you?”

  “Ashe Carrick,” the soldier told me crisply before turning back to meet my eye. Taking the case from my hand, he parked it by the front door. “Don’t you have a coat?” He asked, judgment on his face.

  “Nope, I just came from a no snow zone,” I replied, motioning him to lead the way.

  His long strides ate up the steps off the porch and onto the path as I followed behind.

  “Hey, Ashe? Can we slow down a little?”

  Saying nothing, he reduced his pace.

  I cleared my throat and caught up to him, gazing up at his profile as we walked. “Why are you leading me around. I mean, it’s not that I don’t appreciate your help... but, this just doesn’t seem like your jam.”

  Looking at me from the corner of his eye, he said, “I’m visiting the campus today and was asked to bring you to the main hall.”

  “Oh,” I breathed out a laugh and felt a twinge of regret that he wasn’t another student.

  Continuing with extra ice in his tone, he ignored my mirth. “I don’t know who you’re related to, or how you got into Balaur at the age you are… but respect and decorum are important here.”

  “Yeah, it was super respectful when you barged into my room,” I told him, a bit breathy from cold and exertion.

  Ashe stopped abruptly, his expression blank again. I thought that maybe his disapproving face was better than the poker face he gave me. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I was under the impression that you were, one, eleven years old and two, male.”

  I rolled my eyes and shook my head, muttering, “What? Why?”

  His gloved fingers produced a mobile phone and opened to a text. “This is what I was sent.”

  Glancing down at the phone I saw a text from “❤️Lacy❤️”

  * * *

  ❤️Lacy❤️: Babe, new student staying with you in the guest house needs to be led to the Main Hall by 7

  Ashe: name?

  ❤️Lacy❤️: Syd

  * * *

  Private Pantydropper raised an eyebrow at me, and I couldn’t help but think of his face when he first saw me. The thought made me smile, but I bit my lip to keep the smirk from my face.

  “You find this amusing?” He asked.

  I raised an eyebrow, the laugh escaping my lips. “The look on your face when you barged in was priceless.”

  He just looked at me, making me laugh even more. I had to gr
ab his arm to keep from falling over, I was laughing so hard.

  Ashe simply stood there, unmoved, arrogant, and too proper, until I settled down.

  “Come on, it’s funny!” I told him, reluctantly releasing him and wiping my eyes.

  Expression stony, he spoke barely above a whisper, “I’m trying to be polite, and not embarrass you more.”

  “I don’t have anything to be embarrassed about. I think you’re the embarrassed one.” I broke out into another giggle, giddy from the strange morning… and maybe a bit dizzy from being near such a hot guy.

  It wasn’t every day someone gave me butterflies… let alone this many. My time with him would end soon enough, and he’d go back to gag-Lacy-gag. So why not make the most of it? I knew I was acting silly, but I couldn’t help myself.

  Standing there, he shook his head, barely perceptible, while giving me an excellent imitation of adult disapproval.

  After I met his glare with a shrug and smile, he finally turned from me to continue on.

  “So, Ashe Carrick, tell me about yourself. Are you in college, or are you like a security guard?”

  He shook his head, a baffled expression taking up residence on his face before pointing to the dragon emblem on his uniform. “You really don’t know what that means?”

  “No…” I trailed off, rubbing my hands together and blowing on them.

  He groaned, his tone dripping with disdain, “And for some reason, your parents thought that Balaur Academy would be a good fit for you? This is ridiculous. You shouldn’t be here.”

  I grabbed his arm to stop him, anger coursing through my body. “Look, you don’t need to be a jerk. I don’t want to be here either. I had a feeling that this entire thing was going to be shit, and you’re just reinforcing my opinion! The least you could do is be a decent human being.”

  I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of my sob story—the whole, mom’s dead and dad’s in the hospital bullshit right now.

  Our gazes locked, and something flickered behind his eyes.

  “Let’s just go,” he said as he picked up his pace.

  We said nothing for a long time, following the path that had been plowed between walls of snow. Stars twinkled in the dark, cloudless sky above the thick walls of evergreens that surrounded us.

  Finally, he broke the silence. “Syd…”

  “It’s Sydney.”

  He cleared his throat. “Sydney. I’m sorry about coming into your room without knocking.” And just when I thought Ashe Carrick might be a decent guy, he continued to talk. “Maybe your parents will see that this boarding school isn’t for you. This is a demanding place—it’s for Dragonborn.”

  I sighed heavily while he made his ‘sorry, not sorry’ speech to me.

  I had a lot to get through today.

  New country, new people, a ritual I was told not to be afraid of, and all of this without my dad.

  “So, this ritual slash sorting hat type of situation. What goes on during it?”

  He raised his brows, “The ritual?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I’m supposed to do it today.”

  “You’re doing the ritual? At your age?”

  “Yeah, so it’s some type of sorting mechanism.”

  He stopped and blew out an exasperated laugh, “No… well, kind of.”

  “Not Slytherin,” I leaned in and whispered to him.

  “Oh my god, don’t do that joke…” The soldier cringed, but the corner of his lips curved into a smile.

  I’d gone from the world I knew with logic and security to a bullshit boarding school. I hadn’t even had breakfast, and I was already dealing with juvenile judgments based on my gender, looks, and age.

  Ashe seemed to embrace his diplomatic duties and had begun telling me about the school. However, I struggled to walk in a straight line with the soldier as eye candy.

  Nicknames for him were coming to mind, like the Luscious Lieutenant, Arrogant Asshole, or Sergeant Sexy. I love alliterations and laughed at my nicknames for stuck-up Ashe Carrick.

  I couldn’t not think about him. His presence took up every corner of my brain.

  He began to tick things off with each finger of his gloved hand. “Respect, Responsibility, Integrity…”

  Sergeant Sexy stopped speaking and was apparently waiting for a response from me.

  “Huh? What?” I asked, checking my mobile phone for a signal.

  Then I ran full walking speed into his back.

  This was a car and mountain situation—me being the car, Ashe the mountain. I bounced off his back and landed sprawled out on the pavers.

  Groaning, and with the breath knocked out of me, I blinked up at him.

  We must’ve been nearing the main hall because several titters of laughter could be heard around the quad. I was pretty sure they were for me.

  Ashe, for all his faults, reached down to me, his face actually full of concern.

  “Are you okay?” He asked as he took my fingers—red with cold—into his warm hands. His intense gaze met mine, and I sucked in a shaky breath.

  Nodding, I let him pull me up.

  As soon as I was on my feet, his look of irritation returned.

  “There’s no cell service here,” he said.

  I frowned and sniffed before pocketing the device. “Seriously?”

  He held up a hand and gestured toward the building. “Anyway, we’re here. This is it, Main Hall. Go through those large doors, and into the vestibule.”

  Before I could say another word, Private Pantydropper was gone.

  I rolled my eyes.

  Of course, he took off.

  There is a rule about hot guys: they know they’re hot; therefore, they’re always assholes.

  3

  Stained glass windows glowed warmly, beckoning me into the cathedral-like Main Hall. My hands and face were now numb and I was ready to be out of the cold. Mounting the steps, I pushed on the long handle, and the door swung inward into a vestibule between the Main Hall and the main school building, Wyvern Hall. Hesitating, I was jostled and stumbled a few feet only to bump into several younger, uniformed kids as they made their way toward breakfast.

  Some of the students blatantly stared at me, while others snuck curious glances. My mouth watered as I too followed the smells of sausages and syrup. After missing dinner, I was starving.

  However, just as I entered, I was stopped by a red-faced woman. Pushing her way through the mass of students toward me, she asked in a thick Scottish brogue, "Sydney? You need to get going! Everyone's heading to the parking lot to head out for your ritual."

  Her eyes met mine, and my heart sank. She held a thermos and brown paper bag. Smiling, she pressed the items into my hands.

  "I don't even get to sit down for breakfast?" I asked. Whatever was in that bag could not be as good as the Main Hall smelled with its fresh coffee, fluffy pancakes, thick syrup, and warm sausages.

  "Come along, I've got to take you to Dr. Weaver." Her command brokered no alternative, and I followed her away from the crowd of hungry students.

  She led the way into the other building and up three flights of stairs. We ended in a narrow, dark-paneled hallway.

  Wyvern Hall reminded me of buildings from the early 1900s, with tall windows and high ceilings. Intricate woodwork surrounded the ceilings, floors, and wood partitions.

  Piles of stacked papers, books, and mismatched antiques led me to believe these were all teacher offices. The place smelled of furniture polish and pencils.

  The sun had begun to rise, and its rays shone through the transoms above each door, creating stripes of bright light in the dim space. Finally, our trek ended at one of the last doors in the hallway.

  "Here ya go. Dr. Weaver?" The red-faced woman wheezed into the lone office where light spilled into the hallway.

  Then the Scottish woman hurried away without even a goodbye.

  "Thanks… Mrs…" I called after my guide, but she was already gone.

  Frowning, I took a few steps into
the small room, the scent of books and leather filling my nose. I was met with a wiry thin woman in thermal underwear. Her face was weathered like old leather, probably from decades of being outdoors.

  Dr. Weaver motioned me to come inside before turning to sift through some papers on her desk. "This is all hypothetical, you know. The ritual may not even work on you—even if you are part Dragonborn."

  I stumbled over my words, "I, I don't even know what that means."

  When the Dr. said nothing more, I sat down in one of the large chairs across from her desk. I watched as she bent, digging into an old chest that lay open on one side of her office.

  "You know, we don't even need to do the ritual. It seems like so much trouble. I don't care where you place me in the school… anywhere is fine…"

  She cut me off, her deep-set brown eyes boring into me. "No. Here, put this on." She cleared her throat before handing me an old purple and aqua ski suit.

  Taking the impossibly ancient garment from her, I shook it out. "The soldier guy said that students never start as old as I am. But I can't be the only student to start late."

  Beginning to jam my socked feet into the suit's legs, I glanced up at the professor, waiting for an answer.

  Watching me, she said, "You are an extraordinary exception. These are very, very unusual circumstances. Besides, your mother was a beloved member of our community. Her dragon was so strong… so strong."

  After she'd outfitted me for apparently an arctic journey, we made our way quickly down another narrower set of stairs on the opposite side of Wyvern Hall. At the bottom of the staircase, she pointed me in the direction of an exterior door.

  We stepped outside into a parking area wedged between buildings and piled up snow. Near the rear of the space, several people stood around an old garage that I imagined could've been a carriage house in another time. Smog and the sound of motors drifted from the large barn door that sat ajar.

  At first, I thought there must be motorcycles, but as I neared, and my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw four snowmobiles loaded with gear.

  Calla stood strapping a tarp over a load on one machine. As if sensing my presence, she turned and met my gaze, her eyes narrowed with worry or fear.