Thornhill Academy. Chapter 61

**Allison**

Once Evander finally pulls a shirt over his head and declares, with far too much smug amusement, “It’s safe to look now,” I peel my gaze away from the floor and risk it. Big mistake. The shirt does nothing to hide him, if anything, it makes it worse. The fabric clings to his chest, the edges of his still-damp hair brush against his jaw, and that infuriating little smirk lingers on his lips like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. I can feel the heat climbing my neck again, spreading across my cheeks. Wonderful. I must look like a human tomato.

I cross my arms tightly over my chest, trying to maintain some shred of dignity. “Happy now?” I mumble, glaring at the floor instead of at him.

He chuckles, low, rich, and far too pleased with himself. “Very.”

Gods, kill me now. I sink back onto the bed, burying my face in my hands with a groan. Every detail from this morning comes flooding back in bits and pieces, the music, the dancing, the drinks that burned like dragonfire, the vampires, and then… Kael. His voice, his anger, the look in his eyes right before everything went black.

The shame twists low in my stomach, sour and heavy. “Who knew liquor and magic could be such a lethal combination…” I mutter.

Evander’s voice softens immediately, all teasing gone. “Hey,” he says gently, sitting on the edge of the bed beside me. “You don’t have to beat yourself up over it. You’re safe now. That’s all that matters.”

I peek at him through my fingers. His expression is earnest, the faint glow of his dragon still flickering behind his golden eyes.

Still, guilt gnaws at me. “I was stupid,” I admit quietly. “I should’ve known better. And I owe you an apology for worrying you. And Kael…” I trail off, sighing. “I probably owe him a thank you, too.”

Evander’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly at Kael’s name, but he forces a small smile. “Yeah,” he says, though his tone is strained. “I'm sure you can thank him later."

Despite myself, I laugh softly, and it feels good. The tension breaks for just a moment, and I find myself looking at him properly, really looking. His presence radiates warmth and steadiness, like the calm after a storm. And even though I know I should probably be more embarrassed than I already am, all I can feel is… safe.

We spend the rest of the weekend doing absolutely nothing that could get either of us killed, which, after the week I’ve had, feels like an accomplishment. Takeout boxes pile up on my nightstand, the smell of noodles and sweet sauce hanging faintly in the air. Evander commandeered my bed, of course, insisting it was “for supervision purposes.” Somehow that turned into him half-sprawled across the mattress with me tucked under his arm, both of us watching the sappiest movies Tessa’s streaming account could offer. At some point, Tessa bursts through the door mid–rom-com meltdown, carrying a tray of smoothies and an expression that screams guilt.

“I’m so sorry,” she says before I can even sit up. “I swear, I didn’t know those drinks were that strong! Or that the vampires were that creepy! Or that—”

“Tess,” I interrupt with a small smile. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

She groans dramatically, flopping beside me on the edge of the bed. “No, it’s not! So, I made it up to you, I ordered us both dresses for the Moonlight Festival. They should arrive midweek.”

Evander snorts from his side of the bed. “Bribery by fashion?”

Tessa shoots him a glare. “Apologies come in many forms, dragon boy. Yours can come with jewelry.”

He just smirks, and I laugh, waving her off. “Seriously, Tess. It’s fine. If nothing else, it was… an experience.”

“An experience?” she scoffs. “You got drunk, and almost fang food.”

“Exactly,” I say, smiling wryly. “Now I’ve lived the full Thornhill Academy experience.”

After she leaves (with a pointed look at Evander that says behave), we go back to doing what we do best — nothing. We watch another movie, argue over whether dragons or hellhounds would make better romantic leads, and I find myself melting into the quiet between us. Evander’s warmth radiates through me, steady and grounding, and every time his hand brushes mine, a little spark dances under my skin. When I shift to stretch, his arm tightens instinctively around my waist.

“There won’t be any more day drinking,” he murmurs, lips brushing the top of my head. “Actually, no drinking at all unless I’m there.”

I roll my eyes, but my chest flutters anyway. “You’re very bossy, you know that?”

He hums, low and smug. “Protective,” he corrects, though his thumb tracing lazy circles on my hip says otherwise.

“Possessive,” I counter quietly, but the word doesn’t sting. If anything, it makes something inside me hum in contentment.

His answering smile is soft. “Maybe both.”

I don’t know what this bond is supposed to feel like. Tessa makes it sound like the stuff of fairytales, but lying here, full of bad food and worse movies, I think I understand why she talks about it the way she does. Because if this is what it means to be fated to someone… it doesn’t feel like a curse at all. I mean, the threat is still there, of someone finding out what I am, and now not only using me but my mate as well for some stupid war. There's probably a million different scenarios that I've played through my mind of how this could go wrong, but what I'm very quickly learning is that Evander is not going anywhere, whether I like it or not; he's in this with me, by my side. I've never had that unconditional...fondness from someone before. It's strange, but I think I really like it. I'm not alone in this world anymore. I have a fated mate. Someone that is tethered to me, right, wrong or indifferent.