Page 1 of Beaux and Dragons

Chapter one

First Love

Ashadow zipped across the window, blocking the sunlight and stealing Ana’s attention from her governess’s hard-fought history lesson. For a fifteen-year-old girl waiting for her one opportunity to form an unbreakable riding bond with a soon-to-be-born dragon, Ana couldn’t wait to burst out of the study’s doors.

“Ana Montenegro, how are you to ever find a husband if you’ve always got your head on those beasts?” Governess Paloma’s thin lips pressed together, narrowing her already slender facial features. She smacked her hand on an oversized book on the polished table. “You neither like your studies nor piano or stitching. I am certain your padre keepsme around only to stop you from climbing atop those dragons’ backs all day.”

Ana blushed at the idea of still having a governess at such an age—far too old for someone with a married sister, another sister on the verge of being an old maid, and knowing how to run a house on her own. Then she remembered Padre’s threat to marry her off as soon as Governess Paloma relinquished her duties. She couldn’t stand the idea of being thrown into society to one of the suitors Padre found acceptable anytime soon.

“You worry too much.” Ana shut the book and stood. “I can recite the treaty of Sandoval, I am familiar with the geography of all the realms of Lurin. I assure you that you have been the best teacher any señorita could have asked to accompany her.” She whipped out a fan, splaying bright-red roses and black lace edges. “Perhaps if I took a turn about the gardens some fresh air and sunlight would help me focus.”

Governess Paloma’s dark gaze narrowed. “I should ask what mischief you’re getting yourself into, but I won’t. I have a few letters to write to my family.”

Ana tossed her fan and shot to her feet. Skipping to the doorway, she imagined the wind in her hair and thrill of racing around the isle of Montebella.

Governess Paloma called after her, “If your padre—”

“Don’t worry,” Ana peeked her head into the study and stretched the most pleasant smile she could wrestle onto her face. “I will leave no evidence of any beastly excursion.”

Though Governess Paloma lifted an unbelieving eyebrow halfway up her forehead, the older woman said nothing to stop her. Ana darted straight through the estate, taking the back stairway to prevent the misfortune of running into her sisters or Padre. Bursting from the back servants’ exit, Ana tripped out the door, catching herself before she landed on the muddy path.

Governess Paloma would have whipped me.She righted herself, placed a hand over her racing heart, and marched ahead, careful to avoid the remnant rain from the storm the previous night.

A shadow flickered overhead and dove through the valley behind her home. Glimmers of glossy black and metallic purple shone on the dragon’s scales, growing more distant by the second. The dragon keeper guided the beast to soar up the opposing mountainside with such skillful agility that it took her breath away. A realization struck with the force of a hurricane wind.

Carbón left her nest. That means …Ana gasped.

If she ever wanted to become a dragon racer, she had to run.

She lifted her skirt and sped down the path to the dragons’ stable where the babe must have hatched. Though she’d flown before, she’d never been able to imprint on a dragon herself. The thought had her rushing through the stable door before the rules of imprinting slowed her steps, and she shuffled through the giant entrance.Stay calm. Look the beast in the eye. Pet the snout.

That’s when she caught a beam of light over the lanky Federico Vega Perez, the junior dragon keeper at the Montenegro Estate, and the tiny black dragon curled in his arms. He petted the serpent’s scaly cheek, and the baby gifted him with an adoring gaze from her giant gold orbs. He set the baby on a pile of hay and swept the floors.

Ana Montenegro had never felt her heart flutter at such a common sight, but it did. This was her friend who climbed trees and had taught her how to mount a dragon. Yet her chest swarmed with this new ache she couldn’t quite understand. Yes, Federico still had thesame floppy black hair and too-wide smile as he’d had years ago, but at sixteen years old, his jaw squared out the slightest bit and a shadow of beard formed on his chin.

To remedy the strange sentiment, she grabbed a handful of mud and flung it at her friend. It splattered on the spot just below the neck on his collar bone. In the split second Federico’s shocked expression shifted to a hunter’s, Ana dove into a stall. Retribution was guaranteed, and she didn’t have time to explain that she’d promised to leave no evidence of this excursion.

A scuffling sound shifted across the stable, but nothing too close. Ana clamped the bottom of her skirt and tiptoed to the next stall over. Knowing Federico, he’d already deduced the culprit and planned to coat her hair in soil or ruin her day dress. She sped to the exit and slammed her face into a cold pile of mud.

Federico laughed so hard his outstretched hands shook. “You forget that there’s more than one exit.”

Ana swiped the brown mess from her eyes, feigning anger though a jubilance overtook her. “Aren’t you supposed to be a young man already? Is this how you treat your lady friends?”

“You’re right.” He lifted one of her soiled hands and brushed off some dirt before he kissed her knuckles. “This is no way to treat my future bride.”

“Federico, you go too far with the joke.” She yanked her hand from his hold and flung the clumps of mud off her fingers.

“But this is no game. When you turn eighteen, I’m going to ask your father for a betrothal.” His voice took on a serious note, not the silly one he used to tease her.

Ana swallowed past the lump in her throat. Though eighteen didn’t necessarily mean an automatic betrothal, many families set up arrangements early so as not to allow inheritances to be lost to undeserving suitors.

Ana inhaled a steady breath. “Stop teasing. One day I might take you seriously.”

Federico wiped his hands on the grass and then finished cleaning the mess on his work pants. He squared up to Ana, so sober and mature she barely resisted mud-flinging to lighten the mood.

When he opened his mouth, his deep voice came out in a low and earnest tone. “I hope you do take me seriously. I signed up for the Air Guard.”

Ana gasped. “But you’re too young for war.”