Shadows Stirring
Lord Dranin
“My lord!” Stavros, my best friend and second, called out. I paused my walk and turned toward his call. It was a lovely, cool evening in the mountains of northern Greece. I’d left Stavros’s home only a few minutes ago, and I wondered what could have caused my oldest friend to chase after me.
“My lord, we just received a call from the king,” he said, out of breath, as he stepped in front of me.
That caught my attention. I hadn’t heard from the king in the months, since his reappearance at the council. He had reclaimed his rightful place and assumed his role as the leader of our people. I was the leader and representative of the Black Caste dragons, and I’d sworn allegiance to my king.
“What did he want?” I asked.
“He’s ordered you to Colorado. He said that he requires the Black Caste.” Stavros scrunched his eyes, appearing to contemplate what exactly the king might want.
The Black Caste dragons were guardians, but because we held shadow magic—the ability to hide in the shadows—we were traditionally assassins.
“Call and prepare my jet. You’ll handle things here. Tell Dimitri to be ready to leave within the hour,” I commanded.
“Alex,” Stavros said, using my first name. He never called me by it, even though he was my best friend. He was always formal, calling me Lord Dranin. It made me realize that what he had to say was serious. “You need to be careful. I don’t think the king called you for guard duty.”
I thought for a moment. Stavros was right. I didn’t think the king needed a guard. I nodded my head. “Whatever he wants, I will do,” I said, pausing. “And I’ll be careful.”
I patted his shoulder and turned to leave. My dragon was eager and pacing in my mind. Something big was going to happen to us, and he was ready.