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“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Those deep, sibilant words haunt me all weekend. As does the way Ramsey’s eyes—even the scarred one—flashed gold when the…dragon, took over.
Because he’s a dragon.
And dragons are real.
Well. Dragonshiftersare real.
In the few days since… whatever the fuck that was in the library, we’ve managed a stilted text conversation. Poor guy has even fewer social skills than I do, which is… depressing. But maybe that’s why I kind of like him, despite a shitty first impression. Besides, I’ve got more in common with him than anyone else here, and everyone knows the strongest friendships are built on things like shared trauma and mutual hatred of the same things.
But if he texts me before sunrise again, I will seriously consider committing murder. Mr. “I’m not good with people” gets a pass this time.
Once.
He gets one.
If we’re going to be friends, we need to establish some ground rules.
Nyx Byrke
Rule #1 of being my friend.
If the sky’s not awake, I’m not awake.
The frigid draft from the poorly-sealed window seeps under the gaps of my sheets, and I can’t help but shiver and burrow into the warmth of my covers. The pink light of dawn slowly creeps higher until I can no longer pretend I’m still sleeping. It’s peaceful. Quiet. But it won’t stay that way for much longer.
If I’m going to get a run in before everyone else wakes up, then I need to do it now. While the harassment last week was manageable, all things considered, I’m not going to push my shitty luck. Just as I bundle up in every scrap of warm clothing I own, my phone pings with a new text message.
Ramsey Mondragon
sorry
I snort at his one word reply. Honestly, I’m impressed I’ve managed to keep our conversation going as long as it has been. So far I’ve learned his favorite color is black—the color of his dragon—and all shifters are divided into five clans: mammalian, avian, reptilian, piscine, and amphibian. I spent at least two hours on Sunday quizzing him on what kinds were real or just myths. Apparently most of the “nicer” mythical creatures in human history are actually fae hybrids, and I nearly lost my shit when he confirmed he knew of at least one unicorn shifter somewhere on the west coast.
Nyx Byrke
Why are you even awake right now?
My lungs burn from the cold morning air as I begin warming up with a light jog, navigating the less-travelled paths that lead me through the campus and the sun streaked woods. My body feelsstrong. Even though I’m still building up my strength, I’m finally starting to see the effects of consistent meals, physical activity, and consistent sleep: my ribs are less pronounced, my hair is smoother and skin brighter. Another couple weeks and I might actually have to go back to Maeve to have my uniforms let out.
A sudden thrill of exhilaration fills me and just for the fuck of it, I sprint the last bit of path as the forest parts to reveal the stretch of barren grass that leads to the cliff, knowing that if I continue north I’ll run into the temple, but I don’t feel like playing mind games with Esmé today. Rushing wind drowns out everything else. My lungs scream with effort and I finally slow to a stop, bending at the waist with my hands on my knees to alleviate the stitch in my side. Once my breath is under control, I pull out my phone to check the time and see another text from Ramsey:
Ramsey Mondragon
I’m usually up with the sun
Nyx Byrke
…on purpose?
My legs tremble from exertion and seeing no one else, I lay down on the billowing grasses that pepper the cliffside. Esmé’s words flicker through my mind, about “listening” for the magic. Underneath the blanket of a golden dawn, waves crashingrhythmically against the rock face at the bottom of the cliff—if there ever was a magical moment, this would be it.
I try grounding myself with my physical senses, but… nothing.
I’m not sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed, though a sense of uneasy frustration runs through me. Every day without magic—whatever mine ends up being—is another day where I’m at the mercy of others, andfuckif that isn’t the worst kind of limbo to be in.
