Thornhill Academy. Chapter 44

The bell rang and bodies spilled into the corridors, noisy as hell. I leaned toward her before she could get swallowed in the tide.

“Mind if I walk you?”

She gave me a look like she wanted to argue, but then she nodded. Small victories. Tessa peeled off down another hall, leaving me alone with her. Perfect.

We walked in silence for a while, her steps steady but cautious, like she was carrying weight no one else could see. I shoved my hands into my pockets and asked, “Do you want a mate?”

Her sigh told me I’d hit a nerve. “I just don’t think that’s in my future. My fate or whatever.”

That stung more than I wanted to admit. “Why not?”

She flicked her eyes at me, then away. “I’ve been alone for so long, I just don’t think the fates would pair someone like me with anyone.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean, someone like you?”

Her laugh was sharp, humourless. “Don’t act like you don’t see it. The way people look at me. The way they treat me. I’m different… I’m… lacking.”

That word burned. Lacking. Like she wasn’t enough. I wanted to grab her shoulders and shake the truth into her, that she was more, so much more than she could even see. Instead, I kept my voice even. “Why were you alone for so long? What about your parents? Who took care of you out there?”

I saw it happen, the wall. Brick after brick as she clipped out her reply. “I never knew my parents, and I took care of myself. Fate deemed it so that I’m better off alone.”

She slowed, glanced at the classroom door we’d stopped in front of. “Thanks for walking me to class, Evander.”

Evander. Not Kael. Me. She gave me a half-smile, small and tight, and slipped inside before I could say another word. For a second, I just stood there, fists jammed in my pockets, dragon-sized frustration chewing at my ribs. Then the bell screamed again, and I had to sprint the length of the school with shifter speed to make it to my own class. Didn’t matter. The ache in my chest said it was worth it, worth every stolen second just to be near her.

Divination was never my strongest class. Reading the stars, listening to omens, trying to interpret cryptic nonsense, it all felt like smoke and mirrors compared to the weight of steel or the heat of dragonfire. Still, I sat where I was told, a round crystal ball glinting on the table in front of me, the whole room washed in violet candlelight. Professor Mirelle swanned about like she lived on starlight alone, her long braids jingling with charms that clinked softly whenever she moved. “The crystal does not lie,” she said, voice pitched just above a whisper, as if secrets sat on her tongue. “It only shows you what might be. The future is a river, always moving, always splitting. It is your intention that decides which stream you see.”

She demonstrated, palms brushing lightly over the orb until it glowed faintly gold, and then stepped back with a theatrical flourish. “Now. You try.”

Around me, classmates leaned in, whispering and laughing nervously as they extended their hands toward their crystals. I pressed my palms against mine, the superb surface grounding, and let my focus sharpen. I knew what I wanted to see. Her. Allison. My dragon rumbled low inside me, curling tighter with a restless urgency. Show us. I pushed all of it into the crystal, the need to know, the gnawing pull in my chest, the question I’d been circling since the riverbank. What was my future with her?

The surface clouded. Shapes swirled, bending, flickering. For a moment, I saw the curve of her face, pale and bright, but then it warped, splintering into two paths. In one, she stood at my side, light in her eyes, power threading between us like silver fire. In the other, the light fractured; her back was turned, and the shadow swallowed her whole. My brow furrowed. None of it made sense. Professor Mirelle drifted over, silent as a ghost, until her presence pressed against my shoulder. Her hand steadied against the orb, and the swirling stilled enough to sharpen the edges. She hummed low, her voice curling cryptic but certain.

“The future you are seeking is not set in stone, Evander Drayke. It bends. It breaks. It could go one of two ways.” Her dark eyes cut to mine, gleaming with something that felt like knowledge I wasn’t ready for. “But one thing is clear, truth. Truth will be the torch that lights the path you want. Without it, you will lose what you seek.”

The words landed like a stone in my gut. *Truth.* Did that mean I was supposed to tell her? Tell Allison what my dragon already swore? That she was his. Ours. That he’d claimed her before the festival, before the laws, before the world would allow it? I clenched my fists against my knees as the crystal dimmed, leaving nothing but my reflection staring back. *Truth,* she’d said. And all I could think was, if I told her, would she even believe me? Or would it drive her further away? Would she even want me? What if she rejects me? Class ended, and I wandered off, lost in thought, to defensive training.

My brain was stuck on autopilot as I headed for the girls' change rooms to leave my shirt for Allison. I didn’t even realise I’d drifted past the point of no return until the air shifted, warm, scented faintly of lavender and steel polish. My boots scraped the edge of the tile, and then I looked up and froze. She was there. Allison. Standing in front of the mirror, her back half-turned, shirt in her hands, bare from the waist up. Time stopped. Every shred of thought I’d been drowning in, visions of crystal balls, futures I couldn’t hold, my dragon snarling *mate,* burned away like paper in fire. All that existed was her. Pale skin kissed with faint bruises, the faint scar-lines on her back like someone had tried to break her and failed. My throat dried, my chest locked, and my dragon slammed so hard against my ribs it almost cracked them. *Mine.*

Her eyes lifted, and they found me. Wide, startled, furious. My body stuttered back a step, muscles clumsy where they were usually perfect. “Shit. ” My voice came out rough, strangled. “I didn’t...I wasn’t....”