Dragons of Drakkon Books 4 & 5

Intro

“This is exciting.”

I say it out loud before I even realize it, the words slipping out as I look at the growing pile of climbing gear spread across the living room floor.

Carabiners glint under the overhead light. Ropes coil in bright loops of red and blue. Harnesses, helmets, chalk bags, cams, and climbing shoes are laid out in careful rows. The faint smell of nylon and metal fills the room—familiar and comforting.

Next weekend we leave for Yosemite.

And not just any part of Yosemite.

We’re going to climb El Capitan.

“Yay, a trip to Yosemite to climb El Capitan,” Millie says with a playful grin as she tosses a bundle of rope onto the pile. Her voice drips with dramatic excitement, though the sparkle in her eyes tells the truth. She’s thrilled.

Millie and I work together at the hospital, though you would never guess she spends her free time hanging off thousand-foot cliffs. Most people see her in scrubs and assume she lives a quiet life. But outside those hospital walls, she’s fearless.

Honestly, she might be even more adventurous than I am.

Kandus raises both hands in the air dramatically.

“Yeah, and we finally all got that weekend off at the same time,” she says.

That alone feels like a miracle.

Between hospital shifts, Brad’s engineering job, Kimmy’s teaching schedule, and Millie and Kandus juggling their own responsibilities, coordinating time off for all five of us is nearly impossible. Somehow the universe aligned just right.

Next weekend we climb.

I glance over at Kandus and Millie as they sort through gear together. They stand close—closer than necessary really—and their shoulders brush every now and then as they move around the pile.

Kandus laughs at something Millie says, the sound bright and warm. Millie pretends to roll her eyes but she’s smiling too.

Those two have chemistry. Anyone with functioning eyesight can see it.

Only Millie seems determined not to.

She insists they’re just friends. Good friends. Best friends even.

But the way Kandus looks at her sometimes tells a completely different story.

I can’t help but hope that maybe someday Millie will figure it out. They would be good together. They already balance each other in a way that feels natural.

And if there’s one thing I want for the people I care about, it’s happiness.

We spend the afternoon double-checking equipment and packing everything we’ll need.

Climbing El Capitan isn’t something you prepare for casually. It’s a massive wall of granite rising over three thousand feet into the sky. One mistake, one overlooked piece of gear, could mean serious trouble.

Brad kneels beside the ropes, carefully inspecting each one.

“Rope integrity looks good,” he says after a moment. “No frays.”

Brad is the practical one in our group. Calm, steady, and methodical. The kind of person you want beside you when you’re dangling off a cliff face.

Kimmy, his girlfriend, sits cross-legged nearby checking the cams and nuts, organizing them by size with teacher-like precision.

“You say that every time,” she teases him.

“That’s because every time someone forgets something,” Brad replies.

Kimmy laughs softly and finishes her inspection before crawling over and dropping comfortably into his lap.

They look good together. Easy. Natural.

I smile as I watch them.

My four adventure buddies.

Brad, Kimmy, Millie, and Kandus.

They’ve become like family to me over the past few years.

Climbing has a strange way of bonding people. When you trust someone with your life—literally holding the rope that keeps you from falling—it creates a connection that’s hard to explain.

I lean back against the couch and stretch my legs out, letting out a slow breath.

For a moment, everything feels perfect.

Adventure ahead.

Friends beside me.

Life exactly where I hoped it would be.

But reality pulls at the edge of my mind when I glance at the clock.

I sigh.

“I’ve got to head to work soon,” I say.

My shift at the hospital begins at eight tonight.

Forty-eight hours on call.

Being a surgeon at Saint Joseph Hospital in Denver isn’t exactly a light schedule.

Still, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Every day I walk through those hospital doors knowing that what I do matters. That somewhere in those operating rooms, someone’s life might depend on my hands being steady and my mind being clear.

I worked for years to get here.

Medical school. Residency. Endless nights studying and pushing myself past exhaustion.

Now I’m living the dream I chased for so long.

Saving lives by day.

Climbing mountains on the weekends.

Brad finally leans back on his hands and surveys the organized mountain of equipment.

“Okay,” he says with satisfaction. “Looks like we got everything.”

Kimmy rests her head against his shoulder.

Millie tosses a chalk bag into one of the duffels.

Kandus zips another bag shut.

For a moment, the room grows quiet as we all look over the gear together.

Next weekend.

Yosemite.

El Capitan.

I look around at my four friends and feel a warm surge of gratitude.

Not everyone gets people like this in their life.

People who show up.

People who laugh with you, climb with you, and stand beside you through everything.

I’m lucky.

Really lucky.

I just hope everything goes according to plan.

Climbing can be dangerous. We all know that. Every one of us accepts the risks when we tie into a rope.

Still, the thought creeps into my mind despite my best efforts to push it away.

I would hate for something to happen to any of them.

They mean the world to me.

Yet as I sit there watching my friends laugh and finish packing, I can’t seem to shake the strange feeling settling deep in my chest.

A quiet, uneasy whisper in the back of my mind.

Something feels… off.

And I have no idea why.

Gailan 

In one week, I will be leaving for a weekend trip. 

And it is about time. 

I need this trip. 

Out of all my brothers, I am the one struggling the most with adjusting to life on this planet. Earth is… fascinating — beautiful even — but it is not home. 

Not truly. 

I am an adventurer by nature. 

My dragon craves the wind, the hunt, the challenge of the unknown. Remaining grounded for too long makes my skin itch with restlessness. 

So when I overheard others in my store talking about rock climbing El Capitan in Yosemite National Park, California… 

Something inside me sparked. 

A challenge. 

A worthy one. 

I booked the trip that very night. 

If anything could help me adjust to this world — while feeding the fire inside me — this would be it. 

I have spent the last week researching El Capitan. 

Every ridge. 

Every route. 

Every danger. 

It is