Dragon Schooled (Box Set)

By Emily Carington

Three men and the dragons they love confront their fears to find forever in each other’s arms…

Russian Blau: Ice dragon Blau Lepa seeks nothing more or less than to be a professor at SearchLight Academy. He’s wanted to teach his whole life, and considers

• Language: English
• Publisher: Changeling Press
• Release date: Mar 3, 2019

Book preview

Dragon Schooled

Emily Carrington

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2019 Emily Carrington

Second Edition

BIN: 008788-02841

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Mobi/PRC

Publisher:

Changeling Press LLC

315 N. Centre St.

Martinsburg, WV 25404

www.ChangelingPress.com

Editor: Crystal Esau

Cover Artist: Angela Knight

Adult Sexual Content

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Table of Contents

Dragon Schooled (Box Set)

Russian Blau (Dragon Schooled 1)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

American Telepath (Dragon Schooled 2)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chinese Morning (Dragon Schooled 3)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Emily Carrington

Dragon Schooled

Emily Carrington

Three men and the dragons they love confront their fears to find forever in each other’s arms…

Russian Blau: Ice dragon Blau Lepa seeks nothing more or less than to be a professor at SearchLight Academy. He’s wanted to teach his whole life, and considers it a sacred calling. When he meets Professor Rob Boyle, he’s instantly attracted, but they're both convinced that teachers and students shouldn’t have sex, not to mention that Blau’s afraid to bond with a human who will pass away so quickly. Eventually Rob gives in to his attraction and finds being dominated by Blau fills him with soaring desires and heals his wounded heart. But is that enough to make him decide to throw away his humanity and accept magical powers so that he can spend all eternity with his lover?

American Telepath: James is a water dragon who fell in love with a human. Rather than expose that human to a dangerous magical world, James abandons Henry. When they meet again it’s like they were never separated. Except Henry refuses -- beyond the occasional bang -- to have anything to do with James. Together they struggle to overcome the past.

Chinese Morning: Travis longs to remain in the magical world which has given him so much pleasure. The only problem: he’s terrible at his job, and without his job he cannot stay. To distract himself, he seeks out the challenge of sexually dominating a dragon. As Chen falls for Travis’s mouth and hands and mind, he is forced to accept the truth: submission is where he’s meant to be. Will their attraction be enough to rescue them?

Russian Blau (Dragon Schooled 1)

Emily Carrington

Ice dragon Blau Lepa seeks nothing more or less than to be a professor at SearchLight Academy. He’s wanted to teach his whole life, and considers it a sacred calling. When he meets Professor Rob Boyle, he’s instantly attracted. But both he and Rob are convinced that teachers and students shouldn’t have sex, not to mention that Blau’s afraid to bond with a human who will pass away so quickly.

On top of his scruples, Rob’s suffering from a broken heart. Eventually he gives in to his attraction and finds being dominated by Blau fills him with soaring desires and heals his wounded heart. But is that enough to make him decide to throw away his humanity and accept magical powers so that he can spend all eternity with his lover?

Chapter One

Whose bright idea had it been to stick three dragon-shifters in one dorm suite? Never mind their widely disparate ages, their diverse backgrounds, or their differing abilities. The three of them had been piled into a dorm suite with three small bedrooms off a postage-stamp-size common room and told to work it out.

Blau mulled this over as his two roommates argued about who would be forced to sleep in the middle, smallest bedroom. He would be arguing too, except there seemed to be little logic involved, and he detested argument for argument’s sake. Particularly when it was hot enough to fry an egg on his forehead.

Sitting on the lumpy three-quarter couch with his luggage stacked to his right, Blau watched the Chinese land dragon, Chen, step into the water dragon’s space and smile. To his credit, the water dragon didn’t flinch.

You should take the middle room, lizard. You’re the smallest.

That was true. As a rule, dragons stood five foot ten in human form, but if James, the water dragon, was five foot eight, then he just barely reached that. A matter of two inches meant he’d be smaller in dragon guise as well, and probably by at least a foot.

Chen went on, When Russian Blue over there graduates in December, you can have his room.

Who are you calling lizard, you papier-mâché excuse for a --

Chen punched him.

Blau rose, thinking he would have to separate the whippersnappers. But James backed down as blood spurted from his nose.

All right, all right. I’ll take it. He wiped his nose on his hand, and Blau was surprised to see only a little blood there despite the geyser of moments ago. He is a fast healer. That wasn’t true of all dragons, but the water dragons did have that tendency.

If I were a gentleman, Blau thought, I’d offer to take the small room.

But he couldn’t imagine cramming all his books into such a tiny space. James Tavery would have to make do.

Chen glanced at Blau. Are you going to defend him?

Blau realized he’d balled his hands into fists. "No, although I detest bullies. If you aren’t careful, lizard, you’ll find yourself on the wrong end of my liking."

You speak English like a foreigner.

Says the Chinese, snapped James as he hauled one of his two trunks toward the center bedroom.

Blau passed by Chen and picked up the other end of James’s trunk. Ignore him. He is only feeling threatened because there are two of us and one of him.

You’re not a water dragon, James said without heat.

No, but closer to water than land. Ice dragons swim in the coldest seas and skate the ice floes. He helped James set the trunk at the foot of a narrow, rickety bed. Let us get the second one. Then you may help me move my things.

Ten minutes later, Blau was alone in his room with the door closed. Even with the air conditioning, he felt hotter than ever. He didn’t want to hear Chen cursing at James in Mandarin.

It’s probably for the best that James doesn’t speak Mandarin. No one would enjoy being called a spider’s spawn.

Then he heard Chen call him the same and had to poke his head out. In fluent Mandarin he said, Silence your hole, papier-mâché. Then he smiled a little. Zhĭxíng will become your new nickname, he muttered, which was papier-mâché in simplified Chinese. He was fairly confident Chen/Zhĭxíng didn’t hear him, because Chen was still cursing.

Alone once more, Blau began unfolding and setting up his many-tiered bookshelves. He started filling them with tutorials and dictionaries fifteen minutes later. When he was done with the second shelf, he still had three books left. Taking these to the small desk, he arranged them artfully so Northern European Werewolf Dialects by Charles McLaughlin was framed by two other books by the same professor. Blau smiled at his three copies. He would get those signed tomorrow in class.

Blau? James knocked on his door.

It was quiet out in the common room.

Blau opened his door a little and met James’s bright green gaze. Yes?

Do you want to join me for dinner? the twentysomething asked.

Do I look like your friend? Blau sighed. He supposed being helpful, even if he expected help in return, could be seen in America as friendliness. And going to dinner with you would be another sign of the same. No. He closed the door in James’s face. Returning to his desk, he tried smiling at the three books. But he could hear James’s footsteps outside the door, and even though they didn’t drag, and even though James said nothing, guilt rose in his throat.

Sighing, he went back to his door and spotted James just opening the door out into the hallway. Hold on. I am coming.

James grinned, looking impossibly young for a twentysomething, male water dragon who should have grown up quickly and harshly.

More like Chen/Zhĭxíng. He resolved not to talk much to James as they walked and to avoid him once his graduate work began in the morning.

* * *

Rob Boyle, freshly showered and looking his best, swaggered toward Charlie McLaughlin’s office bright and early Monday morning. There were no worries that Charlie wouldn’t be there; he was an obsessively early riser.

When Charlie had been called away from SearchLight Academy’s payroll to deal with a werewolf conflict three years ago, there had been no doubt he would return right away. He hadn’t. Supposedly, at least according to the office scuttlebutt, he’d been coerced into staying with a werewolf pack to help them assimilate or some such nonsense.

But now he was back. There had been rumors circulating for weeks that he was coming back to teach, but last week hadn’t shown a hair of him. Approaching Charlie’s office, Rob felt the familiar flutter in his stomach that he always got when he was near Charlie.

And there was light coming from underneath Charlie’s office door.

Rob didn’t bother knocking. He could see Charlie’s outline through the door. Such was his psychic ability, to be able to see sources of heat through solid objects. Like Superman. With a grin stretching his face from ear to ear and eyebrows to chin, he pushed open the door and boomed, Welcome back!

The office was a shambles. The desk was pushed against one wall just fine, but the two chairs were stacked on top of it. Charlie’s computer was stuffed behind these, and all the bookshelves were crammed with books every which way.

And Charlie himself was perched on the windowsill with a cell phone to his ear and a frown on his handsome African American features. His beard was neatly trimmed, and he seemed to have gained some more arm muscle. Which was impressive for a man of almost fifty.

Rob patted his mostly flat stomach and smiled. What a mess.

Charlie looked up, the frown pulling still at his lips. Rob, this isn’t a good time. Then: No, not you. One of the other faculty just walked in. Uh-huh. Oh, hell, really? All right. Bye, Ethan. Be careful.

He slid off the windowsill, pocketed his cell phone, and smiled a little. Good to see you. He began picking his way between the boxes on the floor. I’m not exactly fit for company just now.

I don’t care if your office is a mess. Rob brushed past a box and gripped Charlie’s shoulders.

The taller man stiffened.

Rob let him go. I’m sorry. I forgot how little you can see.

It’s not that. But Charlie took half a step back from him. It’s really not a good time, Rob.

Do you want help cleaning this place up? I don’t have my first class until nine.

Charlie’s frown returned. "It is a mess, isn’t it? He chuckled suddenly. All right. I’ll take you up on that. Braille books on the shelf nearest the window, and print books on the second. Don’t worry about the order; my new TA will be taking care of that."

He reads Braille? Rob asked as he dove into the first box.

Not yet. But supposedly he speaks fifteen languages. Charlie sounded doubtful.

What’s his name? He hoisted three books into place.

Blau Lepa. Charlie laughed as he began straightening the few books already on the shelf by the window. A German first name -- if you can call the color blue a name -- and a Russian surname. He speaks those languages, and presumably English, at least. Or that’s according to his CV.

Blau Lepa. Rob tasted the name. He liked it. Exotic. When will you meet him?

My first class. Charlie coughed and blew dust off a box. They couldn’t bother to leave everything where I had it? Then: Of course not. Someone else has been teaching here for the past three years.

Kevin McCarthy. Rob made a face. Probably the worst accent I’ve ever heard. It’s a wonder the students could understand him. He paused. Scottish, you know?

Many of my students have to speak four languages with occasional dictionary assistance by the end of their second year. Scots shouldn’t be too hard an accent.

The third years were fine, I think, but the upcoming freshmen… Many of them had to take the classes over in summer school.

Summer school? And this Kevin McCarthy taught there as well?

He did.

I’m afraid to ask. How many failed a second time?

All but two. That means… ten failures? I’m not sure.

Charlie swore quietly. Well, then. It’s a good thing I was ordered back here, wasn’t it? He sounded bitter.

You were having more fun with the werewolves?

I was until this latest fiasco. Charlie made a disgusted noise. And it’s not likely to improve while I’m stuck in DC.

What’s wrong? Rob asked, moving closer and, making sure Charlie saw him, touching the taller man’s shoulder.

Long story. Death of an alpha and the ensuing pack struggles.

That sounded serious. Or maybe it was Charlie’s tone that made it so. Rob put his arm around Charlie’s back. Why don’t you sit down and tell me all about it? And he laid a soft kiss just under Charlie’s right ear.

Charlie broke away. Rob, don’t.

Don’t? he repeated in confusion. Charlie, you haven’t taken up with some other crazy professor, have you?

I’m taken, all right. By a psychic vampire.

Rob’s heart seized. "Some vamp has enslaved you?"

Charlie smirked. No. He’s my mate. Do you remember Luis Delgado?

The upstart psychic vampire who’d flown through all of Rob’s classes with nothing more than a smile and a wink? Of course I do. He used to drive you crazy with his misspellings in Spanish and English.

Charlie grinned. I’d forgotten about that. He looked fondly into the middle distance. He’s still a cutup.

Rob scowled. You fell in love with him?

I did. Charlie shrugged. It was fate.

Rob headed for the door. You could have told me when I first walked in.

Did you expect me to be the same after three years?

Rob stormed out into the hallway, slamming the door behind him. Let Charlie’s overly sensitive hearing take that. Marching down the corridor toward his office, Rob grumbled, Could have told me as soon as I walked in.

Excuse me? Are you Professor McLaughlin?

Rob looked up -- and into the nearly black eyes of a pale, chestnut-haired man. Excuse me? he repeated, unsure he’d heard the man correctly.

Professor McLaughlin. I’m his grad assistant. And the broad-shouldered, slightly shorter man stuck out a thick-fingered hand. Blau Lepa.

Rob took the hand and shook it firmly, enjoying the man’s strong grip. I’m Professor Boyle. Char -- Professor McLaughlin’s office is three doors down on your right.

Thank you. The man had a faint accent, but Rob couldn’t place it. Excuse me, he said again. Then he was walking away.

He was very attractive walking away.

How can you even look at anyone else? Charlie just told you he’s been sleeping around -- got mated in fact -- behind your back. Without so much as a thought for you.

Charlie hadn’t communicated with Rob in all the time he was gone. Not even one postcard. It made sense, if Rob stopped to think about it, that Charlie would move on with his life. But that didn’t change how Rob felt.

He stalked into his office and slammed his door as well. Fuck Charlie, he muttered as he strode to his desk. Forget him. If he has no thought for me, I don’t have any for him. But as he sat down, his gaze fell on the dusty box containing the chessboard and pieces with which he and Charlie had spent many happy hours. After each game, they’d spent many other happy hours in Rob’s bed.

He threw me over for a psychic vampire?

The silence of the office mocked him.

Chapter Two

Promptly at quarter to nine, Blau stepped into Professor Charles McLaughlin’s classroom. This was the time he’d been asked to arrive, and he didn’t want to get on the wrong side of the sensitive teacher by showing up too early or too late.

Sensitive teacher. He barely looked at me the whole time we were talking. If I didn’t know he was vision-impaired, I’d be offended.

The classroom was populated with hanging lamps instead of fluorescents. And the room’s neat rows were being slowly dismantled by Professor McLaughlin.

Sir? Then, because this probably wasn’t the best way to address someone, Professor McLaughlin? This is Blau Lepa. From this morning?

From less than an hour ago. I don’t forget voices that fast. The professor shoved a desk into place. Make yourself useful. We’re turning this den of order into a circle of participation.

Blau helped him. Sir? he asked after moving the fourth desk.

Charles McLaughlin grunted as he walked, with the help of a white cane, toward the large desk at the front of the room.

He’s certainly surlier than Professor Boyle. Blau pictured the other professor’s black hair swept artfully back from an unmarred, tanned forehead. Professor Boyle was better looking than Professor McLaughlin too.

Yes, Blau? McLaughlin demanded.

You don’t sound anything like your books, sir. Will all your classes be in this circular format?

Yes. It encourages cross-pollination.

Blau wasn’t sure if the man was being serious or not. Yes, sir. And since it was more of an answer than he’d expected, why was he feeling rebuffed?

Here’s my seating chart, McLaughlin told him as he emerged from behind the desk. Please tape each page to the appropriate seat. Mine is the one in Braille. And he presented Blau with a stack of laminated signs. Then he returned to his desk and sat behind it with something in front of him. He began running his fingers over the page.

By the time Blau was done, it was nine o’clock, and yawning students were shuffling in. He settled himself in an extra seat to watch Professor McLaughlin work. His idol didn’t seem to notice him, instead going about learning students’ names and beginning the lesson in werewolf Gaelic without once glancing in his direction.

It was as though Blau weren’t there.

Watching was boring, Blau discovered ten minutes into the class. Twenty minutes in, his mind was back with the professor he’d met in the hall. Professor Boyle. The man’s six one or thereabouts height pleased Blau, as did the man’s well-cut suit and neatly combed black hair. There was something strong about him, even though he wasn’t overly muscular.

Like Professor McLaughlin, who both looked and sounded like a fighter pilot reduced to teaching flight school.

A blind fighter pilot. Blau smirked.

Professor McLaughlin glanced over at him, even though Blau would have said they were too far apart for this to come naturally to the human.

Did he hear me? Dragons had psychic shields; didn’t humans come without telepathy? Blau battened down and waited to see what the professor would do.

McLaughlin turned away.

But Blau felt as if he’d been warned. He straightened in his seat, trying not to think about Professor Boyle or anything negative about the man teaching in front of him.

* * *

Rob closed his door gently. His hands were shaking too badly to attempt a controlled slam. His first class of the semester had gone terribly. There had been general inattention in Parapsychology 101 and one extremely sarcastic student whom Rob had longed to throw out on his ear.

Oh, quit it. You’re not angry about the freshmen; they’re always