Chapter 1

Darryl George panted softly, sweat dripping from his arms. It was the second hour of training and he still had his summer reading to get to and it was the kind of mercilessly hot night that only the last grasps of a Californian summer could deliver. He could hear the faint sounds of his parents cleaning up downstairs – and knew that he wasn’t getting dinner until he was done with his latest routine. He lowered his arms and let the tip of his practice sword touch the ground.

Being a dragon hunter was never going to be easy. But it was a lot harder when the temptation of his PC and unplayed hours of video games bought on the latest Steam summer sale sat right there next to where he was practicing.

Mayyybe I could play just one game ... he thought, looking at his computer.

The clump clump clump of his father coming up the stairs made his ears perk up. Darryl turned to the door of his room just before his father opened the door.

Dad wasn’t the most talkative fellow in the world. Large and burly from years of training, furrowed with scars by encounters with dragons over the years, he looked as if he could read Darryl’s mind with effortless ease. Wordlessly, he walked over and sat down on the bed, which squeaked under his weight. Dad’s flint gray eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips.

“Again.”

Darryl sighed.

Part of him couldn’t wait for summer to be over. Most kids didn’t get why he loved school so much. But six hours a day, where he wasn’t constantly under Dad’s thumb? That sounded damn good to him. He lifted his sword and then started to swing it in the patterns that Dad had taught him. Dad watched him with an utterly critical air, but Darryl didn’t want to miss dinner, or have new bruises to try and conceal during the day. He was utterly focused, and once he was done with the sweep, Dad slowly lowered his head in what might have been a nod. He stood, then put his hands on Darryl’s shoulders. By now, Darryl’s growth spurts had put him nose to nose with his father.

“Remember,” he said. “Dragons won’t give you a second chance. So I can’t.” He punched Darryl in the stomach as hard as he could. Darryl fell to one knee, gasping. His father kicked him in the chest, then, rolling him onto his back. His sword went clattering across the floor. Darryl coughed as his father put his foot on his chest. “Never drop your guard while facing an enemy.”

And with that, he started towards the stairs.

Darryl closed his eyes and let his head rest against the floor.

I fucking hate this family, he thought, wheezing.

When Darryl rejoined his Dad downstairs, Mom had set the table. Their meal could have been called sparse and flavorless, but that might have been insulting to white bread with mayo on it. It was some kind of ‘nutritional’ meal that was made for making people strong and tough and lean, without adding extra fat. It tasted like cardboard, and it left Darryl feel like he was chewing on carpet by the end of the meal. He drank his second glass of water to try and wash the food down. Mom was, in many ways, a polar opposite of Dad. She was curvy and had a slight smile on her face most of the time. Her long, auburn hair hung around her shoulders like a waterfall.

Where Dad taught him the martial side of being a George, Mom taught him the history and what little magic that the family remembered. Dragon hunters had once filled every court in Europe. They had been among the first people to land on the North American continent – though even then, their order had grown increasingly secretive. With the loss of records and the changing attitudes of the world, the very idea of dragons had become ridiculous and ridiculed. Which itself was a massive effort from dragons themselves, according to Mom. Within a few generations, the monsters had convinced the entire planet that they had never existed at all, and the support for dragon hunters had essentially evaporated.

But there were still some families, like the Georges, who remembered their solemn vows.

Dragons were perfidious, shape-shifting monsters. Rapacious, greedy, and vain. The only thing about them that wasn’t downright awful, according to Dad, was their combat skills. And even that was gotten mostly through cheating.

Darryl wouldn’t have believed a word of it, if Mom hadn’t broken the news to him by casting a magical spell in front of his very eyes.

Everything was true.

He had a duty to protect the world.

He just wished duty didn’t involve eating freaking cardboard.

“So, honey,” Mom said, her voice light. “I have some good news.”

Dad grunted. “Yeah. Tell him.”

Mom smiled. “You got into Princeton Prep this year. So, no more Sunnydale High for you – you can go to a real, high quality collegic school. Better education, better opportunities, better everything!”

Darryl blinked at her. From the tone of her voice, it sounded like she thought that he was going to be happy. Darryl had made as strenuous an objection as he could – considering Dad and his attitudes towards backtalk, that had basically been Darryl pointing out two vital facts. 1) He liked Sunnydale High School. 2) All of his friends went to Sunnydale. His mouth felt dry, despite having just washed down another chunk of crumbly crap with a glass of water. He shook his head.

“M-Mom!” he said, trying to not sound like a whiny teenager. “All my friends go to SDH!”

“You can make new friends!” Mom said, nodding. “I’ve been trying to get you into Princeton Prep for the past year.”

Dad grunted, spooning more food into his mouth.

Darryl clenched his jaw. His fingers flexed, his whole body starting to quiver with rage. He closed his eyes and tried to keep it back. The last time he had tried to shout back at his father, well ... it hadn’t been pretty. But Mom too? He stood, feeling a lump in his throat.

“I’m going to bed,” he said, his voice blunt.

“Well, um, start packing,” Mom said.

Darryl, who had already started for the door, turned back to look at her. “Huh?”

“Princeton Prep is run like a boarding school,” Mom said. “You’ll be staying there for-”

Darryl gaped at her. Then he turned and stormed away.

Once he was up the stairs, Dad shook his head. “He’ll get over it.”

Mom sighed.

“I hope so,” she said.

Darryl lay in bed, his body quivering with rage. His hands shook as he held his phone, his thumbs tapping away. The primitive flip phone piece of crap was the only kind of phone his dad would buy for him. But it still had some texting functionality. He was tapping the buttons, working through the letter choices until he got his text together. He hit sent, his eyes closing. He couldn’t believe this. He was already sure that Dad would be expecting regular updates on his training program. Unless...

Wait. Unless Princeton Prep was a dragon hunter school?

If it was, then he wasn’t even going to get away from Dad. He could already see dozens of teachers, all of them exactly like Dad.

He shuddered.

The response to his text came back far faster than his had gone out. One of the advantages of having a touch screen, he supposed.

Sasha: wtf, really? Oh my god, what!?

He tapped the message back.

DG: Yeah. I know. They sprung it on me. I never thought it’d actually happen.

Sasha: What are we going to do about it?

Darryl sighed. Sasha...

Well...

Sasha was his girlfriend. Not that his Mom or Dad knew about her. They had made it expressly clear that he wasn’t going to date anyone but another dragon hunter. No one but dragon hunters knew what it was like – and anyone else would think he was insane the instant he mentioned it. But when he and Sasha had started talking, Darryl thought he had met someone that his parents could like. Sasha was very religious. Smart and funny, yes. Pretty? Also yes. But she was as Christian as it was possible to be. Demure and polite and dedicated to everything dragons stood against: Chastity, honesty, charity.

So, she’d be someone he could introduce to his parents and not have them flip.

Right?

Except now all that planning had gone completely fucking down the drain.

There’s also problem number two, a snide part of his brain muttered. Darryl groaned and tried to ignore his own thoughts. But it was a bit impossible.

Sasha wasn’t just ... pretty. She was breath taking, ball shivering, blood ragingly gorgeous. Curvy and bouncy and perky and utterly unaware of what she did to him. And worst, she was utterly and totally committed to being pure until marriage. They held hands. They had kissed twice. But oh, in his imagination. In his imagination, he had peeled her clothes off, swept her off her feet, and showed her why waiting wasn’t always the best idea. He bit his lip slightly, his own cock hard as a rock just thinking about her.

Oh yes, because that’s what girls are for. Your sexual gratification! A different, but equally as snide part of his brain whispered.

Darryl grumbled under his breath. Sasha was going to SDH. He was going to Princeton Prep. And they were going to communicate entirely with text, huh?

Sasha: Maybe I can visit your school after hours?

DG: Maybe...

Sasha: Sounds like a plan to me :)

Darryl smiled slightly. Maybe that was something, after all.

After saying their goodbyes, Darryl shut off his phone and laid in bed. Thinking.

The car banked around the corner of the mountain high way as Darryl’s suit case bumped against his hip. He felt queasy. Not just because he was leaving behind his home, his family, his friends and his high school, but also because he had had no idea that Princeton Prep was quite so high up in the mountains. Sunnydale was settled right near Silicon Valley, but there were mountains aplenty within only a few hours drive. The redwood forests surrounding the road seemed vast and primeval and ominous – cutting off the early morning sunlight and blocking any view of the valley between them.

“If you’re feeling carsick,” Mom said. “Try turning on the vent.”

Darryl sighed. His hand reached out and he flicked on the vents. It actually did kind of help.

“So...” Mom started. “I know this isn’t really what you wanted. But I do think you’ll...” she paused. “Y-You’ll do well. Here. I mean.”

She seemed nervous. Darryl sighed quietly. He felt the faint bruise from his last training session twinge under his shirt. Dad had taught him to ignore pain a long time ago. It was a useful skill, even if Darryl didn’t like to remember how he had been taught that. He put his hand on the small sunscreen above his part of the front seat and flipped it down. The mirror on the screen let him get a good look at himself. He had dressed himself in the best clothes Dad could scrounge up for him. Since most of the family fund went to highly expensive munitions and replica swords, it wasn’t exactly fancy.

Still.

At least there were some upsides to being trained from the age ten upwards to be a dragon hunter. Even under the rumpled clothes, Darryl looked lean and muscular. The only thing he wasn’t happy with was his eyes. Mom had told him that his grandfather had had the same eye color, but Darryl had always wished that he had Dad’s normal, unremarkable brown eyes. Much better than purple. It made him feel like a walking cliché.

Brooding, teenage dragon hunter, born with purple eyes?

Come on.

The car came around another curve in the road and Mom banked to the left, taking a side-path that led off the highway and onto an incredibly steep road. She came to a thick metal gate that looked far too fancy for this part of California, blocking off the road. A small intercom was set nearby. Mom rolled down her window. She coughed. “Uh, Mary George, here to drop off Darryl George.”

“Welcome to Princeton Prep,” a bored sounding voice came from the intercom.

The gate rattled open. Mom looked at Darryl.

“You’ll love it,” she said. “A year here and ... and college will seem real easy.”

Darryl grunted.

The car’s wheels crunched as it finally crested the hill and Darryl had to admit he was impressed. Someone had leveled off a few acres of hill-top, leaving a mostly flat area that was dominated by a single three wing mansion. A huge amount of green surrounded it. A few other students were standing near their cars – all dressed incredibly fancy. There were some girls, some boys. Their parents were standing nearby, most of them chatting happily with one another. Darryl saw no other sign of other students.

Were there only ten students?

Or were they just here first?

Mom parked the car and Darryl stepped out. He tugged his suitcase free as Mom smiled. “Want to go say hi to the other new students?” she asked.

Darryl shrugged.

He dragged his suitcase across the grass, the small wheels utterly and completely inadequate to the task of rolling over the lawn. Once he was near the other students, he started to realize just how fancy they were. One boy – a slender white boy with pure blond hair and green eyes – had a fucking Rolex. Each of them looked like they had the best kind of phone, and their clothes were clean and well made. One of the girls hurried over to meet him. She was dressed in a skirt and blouse, and her hair was raven black. It framed a cute, angular face, offset by her pair of thick, rectangular glasses. They almost fell off her nose as she grabbed his hand, shaking it.

“Ohmygosh,” she said, her words tumbling together in her excitement. “I can’t believe I’m here! Can you?”

Darryl made a show of looking down at his feet, then up at her. He grinned ever so slightly. “Guess I have to.”

She laughed. It was more of a nervous giggle, actually. She seemed to realize that she was still holding his hand. “Oh! Sorry! My name is Ataxia!” she said, letting go of his hand, her hands going behind her back. “Most people call me Xia. I mean, some of my friends back in England called me At-At, after Rogue One came out. But I always called them Ay-Tee-Ay-Tees, not At-Ats, you know?”

Darryl blinked. “You’re English?”

She didn’t sound English.

“Welsh, actually,” she said.

She sounded American.

“Well, uh, I’m Californian,” he said, a bit awkwardly. “I didn’t know, um, this was an international school.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re Californian? What color are you?”

Darryl blinked again. “Excuse me?” he looked down at himself. “ ... white?”

Xia looked just as confused as he felt. Then she gasped. “Oh my gosh. I’m ... no, wait, that would be condescending. I’m...” She paused. “I want to say I’m super proud of you, but ... no. Ugh! I’m being so racist!” She put her hands over her face.

Darryl was starting to wonder if she was insane.

One of the boys walked over. He was the biggest, buffest, blackest looking man that Darryl had ever seen in a suit. He looked good in a suit. But he was still in a suit for the first day of what was basically just fancy high school. His arm went around Xia’s shoulder and he laughed. “Next you’re going to say you’re surprised to see me here, huh?” he asked, sounding amused.

“Noooo!” she said, turning bright red. “Oh! Um, what is your name? So I can introduce you to Geotaxis...”

Darryl held his hand out to the black boy. “I’m Darryl.”

“Darryl?” Geotaxis – what the fuck kind of name was Geotaxis? - looked amused. “That’s awesome. So, you’re from Californian? And a white?” He shook his head. “Black, myself.”

“Is it rude to say no shit?” Darryl asked, trying for a smile.

“Welcome one and all!”

The booming voice that drew their attention came from a teacher striding from the front doors to the school. He was tall and limber and Asian looking and seemed to be utterly gorgeous. Darryl was totally straight, and he thought the guy looked good. He was limber and tightly muscled and wore a fine white shirt and long black khaki pants. His shoes were shined to a mirror finish. He also just sounded like the kind of person that Darryl could see being a ... well ... a Dad. A real one. Everything about his face said: Hey, I got your back.

Once he was about five feet away from the line of new students, he bowed to them. “My name is Mr. Lung,” he said, pronouncing it ‘loong.’

“Hi Mr. Lung!” one of the other students – a short, frizzy haired girl who seemed to be fifty percent boob, considering her size and her breast cups. Mr. Lung seemed mildly amused by her excited wave.

“Are you all ready for your tour of the grounds?” he asked. “This is your last chance to say goodbye to your parents, so, be sure to do so.”

Darryl looked back at Mom. She was looking at him – her face filled with nerves and hope. She waved at him. He waved at her, a bit limply. But he still waved. Then he turned and followed Mr. Lung towards the front doors of the school. As they walked across the lawn, Darryl started to really grasp just how big the school was. The front doors weren’t actually the normal five, six feet tall that he expected. They were twelve feet tall, and they opened with a smooth creak – drawn apart by a pair of girls wearing frilly maid outfits. Like...

Revealing frilly maid outfits.

Darryl’s eyes widened.

“I think we might like this school,” Geotaxis murmured.

“Shush!” Xia hissed.

Mr. Lung turned to face them once they were inside the main lobby. Darryl’s brow furrowed slightly. The inside of the room was stranger than he had expected. What he had expected was there – marble floors, fine paintings, a general air of opulence and beauty. There were corridors leading into the side wings, and doors leading out into the expansive grounds behind the mansion. But what wasn’t there were fucking stairs. The corridors leading into the second and third floor of the mansion just opened into empty space, as if they expected people to just will themselves up or down. Every doorway was built far too wide, and far too tall.

“Now!” Mr. Lung said. “Now that the courtesans and servants are leaving, I believe we can get more comfortable.”

He rolled his shoulders.

And before Darryl’s eyes, Mr. Lung changed. A silvery white mustache grew underneath his nose, which stretched outwards, joined by his lips. His skin turned a pale gold as his hair turned pure white, exploding outwards in a mane of white fur. His neck lengthened and his clothes tore apart as his back suddenly expanded outwards. A pair of wings snapped free, fanning out, while his hands grew foot long talons. His pants dropped as a massive tail bust from behind him, while his legs grew longer and talons exploded between his shoes. He shook himself, sighing and stretching his arms and wings at the same time.

Mr. Lung.

Was.

A fucking.

Dragon.

Then Darryl realized he could hear ripping and tearing sounds around him. A big, black, scaled arm wrapped around his shoulder and he found himself looking up at Geotaxis – his belly was dark red, but his back, shoulders, and arms were all bright red. His wings closed behind his back as he grinned down at Darryl. “Come on, white boy, aren’t you sick of being in that form?”

“Don’t call him white boy! That’s so offensive!” Xia said – her voice higher pitched and more musical. Looking at her, Darryl’s eyes widened. She had become a slender, elegant fusion of human and dragon as well. Her silver scales were counterpointed by a sky blue belly. Her breasts – large and firm – were also entirely bared. Her nipples were silver and slightly hard. Her tail twitched from side to side and she seemed to notice where his eyeline was. She blushed a bright gold, her long tail whipping around to cover her chest. “He c-can change when he wants to!”

Darryl snapped his head around. Every other student had shifted – a riot of colors and scales and wings and tails. They were also all naked. Gleefully naked. He started to become aware of just how fucking hung Geotaxis was when the black dragon stepped back, his ruby red shaft hanging down along two balls as large and firm as Darryl’s clenched fists.

“Well, he is one,” Geo said.

Mr. Lung chuckled, stepping forward. His cock was black and just as big as Geo’s.

Darryl wasn’t sure if he should scream, run away, drop to the ground in the fetal position, or cover his eyes to protect himself from all the junk surrounding him. But Dad’s training took hold. When you were in a hopeless situation, do what bought you the most time. When you were in a burning building, jump out of a window to buy yourself ten more seconds to think of your next step. When you were surrounded by a bunch of fucking dragons, you pretend to be a dragon.

He opened his mouth, about to lie, but then Mr. Lung shook his head.

“Oh, I’m an idiot. You’re Darryl George.” He put his clawed hand over half his face, looking flustered. “When you’re two thousand years old, the memory gets a bit cluttered sometimes.” He shook his head, then waved his hands. “Everyone, give Darryl some space.”

Darryl blinked.

“Darryl thinks he’s human,” Mr. Lung said.

Every dragon gasped.

“Thinks!?” Darryl exploded. “What the fuck are you-”

Mr. Lung opened his mouth and breathed out a blast of searing hot flames. It flashed over Darryl’s body before he even had time to react, let alone scream or dodge. He felt his clothes crisping, turning into ash, crumbling away. He felt his skin prickling and coiling away – but rather than pain, he felt something closer to exquisite pleasure. Surging energies crackled along his spine and he felt his cock growing rock hard, pushing aside folds of ash. He staggered backwards and the flames faded, leaving a scent of burnt pork in the air.

Darryl collapsed to the ground, gasping.

“Everyone, stand back ... give him time...”

His head rang. His head spun.

Darryl slowly shook his head. He felt something bump against his nose. He groaned and reached up – about to rub his face. But his hand stopped about a foot away from where his nose should have been. Touching his nose. He opened his eyes. His clawed hand was resting on a snout. His fingers were covered with blue scaling, and his fingertips were graced by long, sharp looking claws. Darryl pushed himself backwards. He felt something get trapped under his rump and opened his mouth – and a roar of shock came from it. His wings spread behind him as he realized he was dragging his tail along the floor. His toe-claws dug into the marble and he fell on his back. He scrabbled a bit more – kicking up dust.

Everyone around him had backed up a good few feet.

“You can do it, Darryl!” Xia said.

“Try to remain calm!” Mr. Lung added.

Darryl got his feet under himself and shoved himself to his feet. He looked down at his hands. His body. He was...

He was a dragon.

Scales glittered under the sunlight that shone down through the windows. His belly was a bright golden hue, while his arms and his shoulders looked to be pure blue. His wings fanned out behind him – just as blue as the rest of him. His tail was twitching from side to side, and he found that it was working to counter balance his motions and movements, keeping him on his feet despite his spinning head. That strange pleasure he had felt during the transformation remained – his cock thrust out between his thighs.

It was a dark, rich black.

And it was easily sixteen inches fucking long.

Darryl’s eyes widened.

He clapped his claws over his junk, looking around himself, his wings snapping to his back.

Geo laughed. “You’ll have to get over that, blueberry!”

“Geo!” Xia hissed.

Mr. Lung meanwhile was stepping forward. His hands were spread, in a calming gesture. “It’s better you get your first change out of the way now,” he said, his voice gentle. “Can you breathe? Do you-”

Darryl punched Mr. Lung in the nose. His head jerked backwards and he stepped back on one foot. Geo and two of the other dragon men started to charge forward, but before they could, Mr. Lung bellowed.

“Stop.”

His voice boomed out, filling the room. The other males stopped. Even Darryl found his own urge to punch Mr. Lung in the nose clamped down. He froze as Mr. Lung looked right at him. His hand rubbed along his nose, and Darryl was a bit proud to see that a tiny line of black blood was dripping from his snout. He had bloodied a dragon’s noise with his bare hands, no magical weapons or anything. That was better than his Dad had done, as far as he knew.

“You get one,” Mr. Lung said, holding up his finger. Then he grinned. “Or ... two. Or three. We’re not really big on punishments for understandable reactions. Seriously, though, are you okay?”

Darryl blinked.

“Um...” he tried his voice. It was slightly deeper, more sibilant than what he was used too. His muzzle could form the words – he had lips, after all. His tongue felt longer, more flexible. “I don’t know. But I ... I’m not ... I can’t be here, I’m a fucking dragon hunter! We’re enemies! My Dad might have killed some of your friends! Your family!”

He tensed, ready for glares. Claws. Fire. Magic. Death.

Every single dragon burst out laughing. Even Xia giggled, her hands grabbing her belly as she ducked her head forward. Mr. Lung shook his head and grinned, slapping his shoulder.

“Darryl,” he said. “A dragon hunter hasn’t killed a dragon in almost a thousand years.”

Darryl gaped.

“Come on,” Mr. Lung said, pushing Darryl forward. “Lets get you to the kitchen. I hope no one minds getting some food while I fill Darryl in on the truth.”

“Turn down food? I wouldn’t dream of it!” Geo said – and he seemed to speak for the whole group. They were soon all seated at a table in the kitchen – it seemed that the school was built around serving a few people very well. The table was large, but there were only twenty or so chairs, each one with a hole in the bottom of the back for a tail. It was actually quite comfortable. One of those french maids flounced out and set down what looked like ten tons of steak before Darryl. He hadn’t realized until the instant he breathed in the scent of the food just how ravenously hungry he was. He picked up a chunk of meat without thinking about it and popped it into his mouth. As he chewed, Mr. Lung sat down across from him. His tail whipped out and cracked across the maid’s rump, causing her to jump, squeak, and giggle.

Darryl watched her go with wide eyes, his mouth frozen between chews.

“So,” Mr. Lung said. “Lets start with why you are here, Darryl.” He paused. “There’s no delicate way to put this but ... your mother fucked a dragon.”

Darryl choked on his breakfast.

“Likely more than once,” Mr. Lung said, nodding sagely.

“Nice,” Geo said, grinning and fist bumping the dragon next to him.

Darryl shook his head. “That’s impossible! My- I- that-” He spluttered, his tongue flicking out of his muzzle. His tail lashed from side to side, hard enough to almost slap into the dragons sitting to his left and right. He finally got his mouth working again: “My mom – never! With a dragon!? What!?”

“I dunno,” Geo said, shrugging broadly. “Dragon cock is pretty great.”

“Dude!” Darryl turned his head to face the large black dragon. “That’s my Mom.”

“No, that’s your Dad,” Geo said, his gold eyes gleaming. “Your Mom was the one riding the dragon cock repeatedly.”

Darryl trembled. He felt something surging inside of his body. Then, before he could stop himself, he felt the thing inside his belly and his throat surge upwards. It felt a bit like throwing up, but infinitely more pleasant. There was no burning, no sensation of queasiness. There was just a sudden pressure, then a rush of something coming out of his throat. It burst from his mouth and he was suddenly half blinded by the harsh actinic glare of a bolt of lightning springing from between his lips. The bolt slammed into Geo’s chest, sending him sprawling backwards. His chair tumbled and he flipped backwards, hit a wall face first, and exploded through the wall. He ended up sprawled on a large stove, his wings flopped over either side of them. Smoke rose from his chest.

One of the maids stepped over the rubble, then set down a tray of tea cups before Mr. Lung.

“Well, this had to happen sooner or later,” Mr. Lung said, picking up a cup and sipping it.

“I killed him,” Darryl whispered.

“I don’t think you did, Darryl,” Xia said, her clawed hand squeezing on his shoulder. Darryl looked from her to Geo. Geo was starting to sit up, his chest still smoldering. He brushed his hand along his scales, several cracking and crumbling away. He beamed at Darryl. Darryl smiled back, nervously.

The next thing Darryl knew, he was tumbling through the other wall of the mansion in a haze of debris and smoke. He hit the lawn, bounced, flipped up and crashed into a tree. His spine compacted and his wings flapped forward to wrap around his chest and face as if he was suddenly pre-mummified and waiting for his burial. He fell forward off the tree and face planted into the dirt.

“ ... ow...”

The other dragons clustered around the hole as Geo sprang through, his arms spread. “Lets dance blueberry!”