The Scholar Queen

by Renee Carr

  Preview of The Dragon and the Singer

  Prologue

  “I think I’m going vegan,” Natasha said to Ivy, as she looked at her phone. Ivy looked at her colleague with a bit of annoyance. She was trying to do her makeup, and this was the third time Natasha had said something that was completely off-topic.

  Ivy didn’t need total silence to do her makeup, but she did need some sort of concentration. She knew it was an amateur show, and most of the girls in here didn’t care about things like makeup or actual performance. They just thought singing was fun, and they liked the idea of getting up on stage and having people hoot and holler at them.

  Ivy had been performing at this open mic for the past three years, and she sometimes felt like she wasn’t getting anywhere. She loved singing, and she had managed to make it her career, but she still booked a few amateur nights, in hopes of getting scouted for something bigger than the gigs she was booking right now.

  “Why?” she finally asked, when it was clear that Natasha wasn’t going to give up on what she was saying.

  “Because look at this,” Natasha shoved her phone in Ivy’s face. “Some asshole is going around the area killing wolves, and it’s terrible. Look, they are just leaving the bodies lying around, no doubt for a little bit of fur.”

  “Uh...” Ivy didn’t particularly want to look at the picture that Natasha was showing her. She wasn’t exactly squeamish but she was busy. “Who uses wolf fur?”

  “You know these high fashion things, in stores we can’t afford,” Natasha said. “It’s disgusting.”

  “Ok, go vegan if you want,” Ivy said, going back to her makeup.

  “Don’t you care?” Natasha asked her. Ivy shrugged.

  “It isn’t that I don’t care,” Ivy said. “It’s just that I’m trying to look good for the show and I’m sort of busy.”

  “Wow,” Natasha looked at her. “I was told that you were an Ice Queen, but they aren’t kidding.”

  “Oh my God,” Ivy shook her head. “What do you do in your real life when you aren’t looking at your phone?”

  Natasha raised her eyebrow at her. The two girls had known each other for a while, and they were used to each other’s styles and attitudes.

  “You know what I do,” she said. “I just stay at home and take care of the kids.”

  “I could never do that,” Ivy said. “I think that’s far braver than trying to make a career as a singer.”

  Natasha laughed at that.

  “I really don’t think that’s true,” she said. “You have to figure out where your next meal is coming from. At least I know that my husband brings home the bacon.”

  “Yeah, but don’t you feel reliant on him?” Ivy asked. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”

  “Well, I love him, that’s a plus,” Natasha answered. Ivy gave in and laughed.

  “Yes, if you love him, I suppose that’s fine,” she sighed. “Sorry, I’m just...I don’t know, a bit on edge tonight.”

  “Because you don’t have a husband?” Natasha teased

  “I don’t need a husband,” Ivy responded. “I’m never going to get married and rely on some man.”

  “What if he’s the perfect man but he doesn’t want you to sing anymore?”

  “That would be a problem,” Ivy said. “When I get tired of singing, it’s on my own terms.”

  “What if it’s better than singing?”

  “What’s better than singing?” Ivy asked. “Being an Empress?”

  “Sure,” Natasha said. “If that’s what you want.”

  “What I want,” Ivy said. “is to go out there and have someone give me a job for the next three weeks or three months or whatever. I’m just getting sick of traveling around so much.”

  “You can always crash at my place if you want a place like home,” she said. “Where are you staying now?”

  “I have a studio apartment on a sublet deal,” Ivy said. “And it’s fine, it’s just me.”

  “Well,” Natasha said. “I hope that your prince comes.”

  “To be honest, right now, I’d settle for a court jester for the night,” Ivy winked at her. Natasha laughed and Ivy got up, ready to go on stage for her song. The rules of open mic were that she would sing one song, and if the audience cheered, she’d get to sing another one.

  She had worked hard on her look tonight, with her hair down in curls and her eyes smoky and bright. She wore a mini dress with high heels, and she had picked songs that were from a difficult Broadway repertory, to show off her range.

  Her conversation with Natasha was playing in her mind as she started her first song. She and Natasha couldn't be more different if they tried. Natasha was happily married and content to stay home with her three children. She was happy to let her husband work and therefore control most of her life. But Ivy could never do that. She needed to live her own life, and she wouldn’t even tolerate a man who suggested what street to walk down while giving directions.

  But at the same time, she was lonely sometimes. Working gig to gig, and flying by the seat of her pants sometimes made her read the trashy romance novels that she pretended to be against.

  It wasn’t that she wanted a Prince Charming to show up and romance her. It was just that she wanted someone who accepted her for who she was and possibly found her interesting rather than abrasive or too strong-willed.

  She ended up getting her second song, and then her third, which was unheard of. She took a bow as they clapped, and threw flowers, and Ivy ended up leaving the stage feeling reasonably good about herself, especially given that Natasha only got two songs.

  “Too bad we don’t get paid for that,” Natasha said, as they left the venue that night.

  “I’m getting paid for the next couple weeks,” Ivy said, shouldering her bag. “And then...I dunno, I guess I’ll figure out the next bit.”

  “Really, you’re living the dream,” Natasha said to her. “You get to sing for a living. And you’re so pretty, everyone stares at you.”

  “Sure,” Ivy said, glancing at Natasha’s wedding ring and watching her friend’s face light up as her husband pulled up in a minivan to pick her up. “See you around.”

  “Do you want a ride?” Natasha asked, and Ivy shook her head.

  “Nah,” she said. “I’m fine. I’m just down the street.”

  “Ok, have a nice night,” she said and got in. Ivy watched her go and then started to walk down the street. It was cold, and she drew her arms around her, wishing she could breathe fire on her path. The cold wind whipped through her hair and she legitimately thought she might get frostbite before she got into her apartment.

  She threw her bag on her bed and headed to the bathroom to wash off her makeup.

  Her phone dinged and she saw that it was one of her online dating apps, pinging her with interested men.

  She had mostly given up on online dating, and this time was no different. There were a few that caught her eye, like a stagehand named James who had almost yellow eyes, but his profile looked sketchy, so she deleted it.

  Once she had showered, Ivy threw herself on her bed, posting on social media about her night. Maintaining an arts career met that she constantly had to be on top of her social media, putting herself out there and hoping that someone picked her up. It was exhausting, and she often felt like she was running a small country.

  Once that was done, she opened her laptop and searched for casting calls looking for singers anywhere in the country. She wasn’t particularly tied to this city; it wasn’t like she had family or a boyfriend here.

  When she was finally done for the night, she closed her laptop and put her phone on the bedside table, her eyes closing like iron gates. She had been out all day in casting calls, and wardrobe fittings for the other bookings she had.

  Maybe tomorrow would be the day everything changed. Or maybe tomorrow would be the day that she finally lost it and decided to change careers.

  The problem was that singing was in her blood. She
didn’t know what else she could possibly do on this planet. She had been singing since she was eight years old, and she had never had a real job. She only knew how to be a singer; to be on stage and live in the moment, in the notes and the songs.

  Ivy had no trouble falling asleep, dreaming of a bigger stage, a better gig; and perhaps, somewhere in the audience, a Prince Charming to stand by her side, and love her for exactly who she was.

  Chapter 1

  “Nathan.”

  “Mmph,” Nathan answered. He recognized that there was a voice calling his name, but he also recognized that it was his youngest brother, Cory, who asked him questions at least a hundred times a day. He could guarantee that whatever Cory wanted did not need to be answered right away.

  “Nathan!”

  He rolled over, his eyes feeling like sandpaper.

  “Yes, Cory,” he said. “Keep in mind that the next words coming out of your mouth better be necessary, or I will attach you to the ceiling.”

  His mischievous younger brother smirked at that.

  “I dunno. Do you want to see Devon or not then?”

  “Devon’s here?” Nathan nearly fell out of bed in his haste to sit up. “What? Why?”

  “Something to discuss with you,” Cory said with a shrug. “I asked him what he wanted, but he said he would only discuss it with the great Dragon King himself. Something about Kings only business.”

  “Alright,” Nathan ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll be out in a moment.”

  “So to be clear,” Cory said. “The next time the werewolf Alpha comes to visit without telling us, you want me to let you sleep?”

  “Go away,” Nathan growled at him and Cory grinned and scampered off. As soon as he was gone, Nathan put his head in his hands. He had gotten to sleep only two hours before, and he felt like he was walking under water. There had been far too many days when he was working until the sun rose lately. He didn’t mind when he was in the thick of it, dealing with matters of the Kingdom. But when he woke up the next morning, he certainly wondered why he couldn’t seem to balance his time a little better.

  As King of the Dragon Kingdom, Nathan’s crown was the largest of all the supernatural creatures. Dragons were on top of the hierarchy of the other shifters, and they acted as the top of the courts whenever there was a dispute.

  Nathan’s rule was fairly new, having only sat on the throne for the last five years. As the King, he ruled with an iron fist of justice. No one was above the law, and he didn’t hesitate if someone went against him. He preferred order and elegance, rather than chaos and showmanship. Those who knew him said that he was a strong leader, never swayed by any external factors. The Kingdom and his crown came first, before anything else. He was known for working through pain and hardship, as long as the Kingdom still benefited from his work.

  Despite all the praise he received, he often felt like he was just the stand-in, a King who never should have been.

  His older brother, John, had been the heir to the throne. From birth, John was trained, educated, prepped and shown everything about being a King. In Nathan’s opinion, John would have been the greatest King the Dragon Kingdom would have ever seen.

  Unfortunately, for the Kingdom and for Nathan, John’s battle was internal, not external. He suffered under the weight of the crown, and his own demons eventually overtook him. Nathan missed his brother dearly, and he tried every day to do what he thought would make John proud.

  Part of that was not killing the other two remaining brothers, no matter how annoying they were. The middle brother, Joshua, was the captain of the guards, a moody and reckless force who would obliterate anyone who came within arm’s length of his brothers. Joshua’s moods were unpredictable, and often gave Nathan emotional whiplash.

  Cory, the youngest brother, was technically supposed to be more protected than the King. He was considered the last hope for the throne, and whenever there was any threat, he was immediately pulled into safety, in case the rest of the line failed in battle. As a result, Cory pushed boundaries, often looking for ways to taunt his brothers and the royal court. He knew that the consequences against him could never be too severe, and he took advantage of it. His choice of words this morning were just a small sample of what he was capable of.

  Nathan eventually dragged himself out of bed. Under normal circumstances, he would be thrilled to learn that Devon had arrived. Devon was the werewolf alpha, and one of the things that Nathan had accomplished during his rule was to unite the two races, who previously were always at war with each other. Devon and Nathan always shared a secret smile whenever someone congratulated them on ending the feud between their two races. It hadn’t been intentional, although they nodded like it was. Their lack of feuding came from a friendship born out of common struggles, both on the throne and in their families. They found themselves too similar to argue about almost anything.

  The fact that he had shown up without warning, however, worried Nathan. Like himself, Devon loved schedules and routines. An unannounced arrival meant bad news.

  Nathan made it to the library where Devon was waiting within a few minutes. The werewolf alpha stood upon the arrival of his superior, but he held out his hand rather than bowing.

  “You look exhausted,” he said to Nathan, who gave him a wry smile.

  “You mean two hours of sleep isn’t enough?” he answered. “You look frazzled yourself. Have I forgotten we had a meeting?”

  “No,” Devon said. “Unfortunately, I come under....frustrating circumstances.”

  “Sit,” Nathan said. “Tell me.”

  “I’d rather show you,” Devon said, pulling out his tablet. He opened up a picture gallery, and Nathan’s heart sank, as soon as he saw the thumbnails.

  They were gruesome images of corpses, complete with fresh blood. However, these weren’t regular murders that Devon was showcasing. Each picture contained what was clearly a werewolf corpse. They were fully transformed, but Nathan could identify them as werewolves by their size. They were on the sides of roads, mostly, or in forested areas. What bothered Nathan the most was ones lying in some sort of old warehouse, freshly dead.

  “Who is that?” Nathan squinted at the surrounding corpses, trying to see if he recognized any of them.

  “....They are Ben’s parents,” Devon answered and Nathan sucked in a breath. Ben was a descendant of the other royal werewolf line. Depending on the descendants of each line, the two families seemed to trade the throne every few generations.

  “You don’t have the bodies?” Nathan asked.

  “No,” he said. “By the time we went back for them, they were gone. We have people on it, but... here...”

  He scrolled in on one image.

  “What do those wounds look like you to you?”

  “Those are dragon wounds,” Nathan said. “At least, from what I can see. There’s no other creature that has claws that size.”

  “Yeah,” Devon shut down the tablet. “That’s what I thought too.”

  Nathan sighed, glancing at his best friend.

  “I’m sorry,” Devon said, at last. “I knew I had to come to you.”

  “No, I’m sorry,” Nathan apologized. “I will find who did this, and they will be held responsible.”

  “It might be hard to track down,” Devon said. “If I can’t find the bodies. Did you want to put resources towards it?”

  “Yes, of course,” Nathan said. “Whatever resources you need, feel free to ask for. We’ll find who did this.”

  “I know,” Devon said. “I don’t blame you for it. I’m just worried that it will restart a feud.”

  “One more thing on top of a never-ending pile,” Nathan answered.

  “Tell me about it,” Devon said, as he leaned back. “I wanted to come right to you though. Sending those pictures through the wires could mean they were leaked somewhere along the way. And that would mean disaster.”

  “How is Ben doing?” Nathan asked. He had met the young prince a few times, and he thought
he was a well-spoken and intelligent young wolf. Devon’s crown prince, Connor, was rough around the edges and likely to rule with an iron fist. But Ben was calmer and less opinionated, more interested in the world around him and always curious as to what the next step in life was going to be.

  “He’s...alright,” Devon said. “Considering.”

  “Obviously, he’ll want revenge,” Nathan said.

  “He does,” Devon replied. “But he understands that things must be taken slowly, to not damage this fragile relationship that has been built. Connor is more difficult to control than Ben if I’m honest.”

  Connor was Devon’s son and was anticipated to be the next werewolf Alpha. At the moment, though, Nathan and Devon struggled with thinking beyond their own generation.

  “You were right to come,” Nathan assured him. “Are you considering going back tonight, then?”

  “To Earth?” Devon replied. “In the morning, actually. I have other business here on Knorpp that I thought I could take care of today.”

  “Do you want a room, then?” Nathan asked.

  “Yes, that’d be lovely,” Devon replied. “And preferably at least 8 hours to sleep, but I know that you can’t guarantee that.”

  “That’s a fantasy that does not come with wearing a crown,” Nathan said. “Especially when your youngest prince shouts your eardrums apart at the crack of dawn.”

  “I did tell him to be respectful,” Devon answered, with a grin. “I’m enjoying the quiet of being away from mine.”

  “Don’t rub it in,” Nathan said. “Will you be back in time for a royal feast, at least?”

  “I can be,” Devon said. “Now is the best time to show that we are still united.”

  “I’ll make sure that the press is alerted,” Nathan said. “So that it can go out on the wires and show that we are condemning this attack together.”

  “Oh, I didn’t bring...” Devon looked down at his traveling clothes, and Nathan smiled.

  “We can do something about that,” he said. “But tomorrow morning, I’m going to come with you.”

  “To Earth?” Devon answered, surprised. “That’s not like you.”