“Ramsey?” But he doesn’t hear me over the sound of his bones breaking. His transformation is gruesome, and watching him fight against his own body makes my stomach churn. Suddenly, I feel Killian’s warmth at my back, wrapping one arm around my waist and pulling me farther away. At the sound of our shuffling footsteps, Ramsey’s head snaps up and our eyes lock. Only, it’s not the Ramsey I know anymore.
The weight of a moratus dragon’s gaze is a heavy thing to bear, but I don’t look away. I want him to know that I see him, what he is. And just maybe, when he comes back, he’ll remember I didn’t blink. It takes herculean effort, but he stands tall once more, and with one powerful downstroke of those glittering obsidian wings, he takes flight, disappearing into the black night.
“So dramatic.” Killian sighs from behind me, and I twist in his arms to smack his chest, pushing him away to put space between us.
“What the fuck is your problem?” I seethe.
“Well, I had to get you alone somehow.” He crosses his arms. “And you’re welcome, by the way, for saving you from the PMS-ing dragon back there.”
“You want a ‘thank you’? Are you fucking kidding me?” I hiss, jabbing my finger into his chest. “Who’s the hypocrite now, huh? I don’t recall any of you fuckers thanking me for keeping quiet about last weekend.”
“Why do you think I wanted to get you alone?”
“You have my phone number. You know where my room is. So why’d you have to ruin the first time I wasn’t fighting for my fucking life in here.” I gesture back to the Great Hall. My limbs tremble and my eyes burn with more tears of impotent rage, but I refuse to shed a single drop in front of Killian-motherfucking-Hastings. The expression on my face stops whatever sarcastic response he was no doubt going to be very proud of, and his lips settle into a grim line.
“Thank you,” he says quietly as my breath saws in and out of my lungs, the frigid silence around us growing heavy with things unsaid.
“Nyx?” Tori’s cautious voice calls out from around the corner.
“Yeah,” I respond, not taking my eyes off Killian.
“We’re about to head over to the bonfire, do you still want to come with?”
“Yeah.” I take a deep breath, and without a second glance, leave Killian standing alone on the patio.
Tori’s kind enough to not ask me about what happened with Ramsey. Or Killian. She keeps Vanna and Nikki occupied while Evie and Brynne sandwich me between them, letting me disassociate as we walk to the Foundation Stone. But the whispers still follow me.
Apparently, as the firstborn daughter to the head of the Witch’s Council, not to mention the Witch representative ofthe High Council, Vanna has a small part to play in tonight’s festivities. Once a sufficient crowd has gathered, Esmé—who’s standing on the elevated base of the looming obelisk, wearing a plain white dress and robe with a gleaming diadem nestled in her hair—unveils a weathered iron brazier with an orange flame in the center.
“We are gathered here tonight to celebrate and honor Samhain, a transformative time of particular import to witches and wielders alike—” a cheer from the well-liquored students interrupts her speech. When she continues, her solemn tone feels like an invocation, putting us all under a spell.
“Scorpio reigns under the red light of Mars, leading us through the depths of Winter’s darkness, and our own. It is a time of deep reflection as we shed that which has burdened our hearts and minds and enter this season of reclamation and healing. The bonfire of Samhain is thus a benediction passed down from generation to generation, and its echoes reach beyond the Veil, calling forth those dark, unseen truths of our universe. I enjoin you all to take heed of the transformative power of Scorpio: the power of surrendering all that you are, to become all that you were meant to be.” Our eyes connect as her final words wash over me like a prayer. Vanna moves to the brazier and the shadows cast by the flames sway in the night. She gestures with her fingers and a spinning ball of air forms, drawing the flames into her palm. With flick of her wrist, the fiery sphere collides with the heel of the bonfire.
I flinch at the sudden brightness, shielding my eyes as the flames engulf the wooden structure. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Brynne trying to inconspicuously light a joint while Evie covers for her by distracting her sisters. A pang of envy cuts through my dissociated state.
What must that be like, to not be alone?
I wonder if I’ll ever know.
I don’t know how much time passes while I stand before the fire, willing its warmth to drive away the chill beneath my skin. Light wavers and shimmers from the heat, and I find myself holding my palm out for the sparks that explode outward with each log that crumbles. They dance around my fingertips, twining and leaping just out of reach. More seem to swarm around me like fireflies as I become entranced.
And then the screaming starts.
I look around, trying to figure out what everyone’s running from and where they’re running to, when I finally notice that my dress is on fire.
My cape.
I—
I’m too numb at seeing the only beautiful thing I’ve ever owned disintegrate before my eyes.
I didn’t even get to know this version of Nyx, who wears pretty things and goes to parties and flirts with scary dragon shifters.
I didn’t?—
“Nyx!” Tori shouts, breaking my focus on the flames that are crawling toward my bared skin. And then a torrent of ice-cold water brings me to my knees before I can hold my breath.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” She rushes to my side. “I’m so sorry, I just wanted to put the fire out, I didn’t mean to?—”
