Chapter 84 84- Do Not Forget Dragons Are Overprotective
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What started off as an awful, boring and miserable class turned into an absolutely wonderful day. I am still riding the high of it. Lexi enjoyed flying with me. Not tolerated it. Not endured it. Enjoyed it. I have already started planning where I might take her next time. The river would be nice. There’s a wide stretch where the water catches the light beautifully in the afternoon. She likes picnics. I could land somewhere secluded and bring food. Or evening might be better. Sunset from the sky is incomparable. The way the horizon burns gold and pink, the way the air cools but the sky still glows, it’s worth seeing properly. Worth sharing. I want to show her that. I return to my room first, but I’m far too restless to stay there. The energy inside me is sharp and electric. Even though my muscles are mildly fatigued from flying for so long, my mind is racing. I can’t sit still. So after only a few minutes, I leave again. If I am already planning a next flight, then this one deserves to be marked. A first flight should be commemorated. So, I fly home to my main hoard. The trip steadies me. When I land and shift back, the weight of my hoard surrounding me settles something in my chest. I move through it carefully. I don’t grab the largest or most impressive thing. I look for something that suits her. Earrings, maybe? I still haven’t convinced her to accept a pair yet. I search for nearly an hour, lifting boxes, checking trays, evaluating pieces. I don’t have pink diamonds that match the necklace I already gave her, but eventually I find a pair of gold hoops set with small diamonds. Elegant. Subtle. Not so ostentatious that she’ll immediately refuse them. I hold them in my palm for a moment, imagining them against her hair. Yes. Those will do. I tuck the jewellery box into my pocket and fly back to the Academy. I’m genuinely excited when I land. There’s a quiet satisfaction in my chest, the kind that comes from doing something right. I shift back, automatically checking that the box is still there. It is. My phone vibrates just as I step through the main entrance. Perfect. Lexi is probably done with her shower. Maybe she’ll let me come get her early. I open
the message, already half smiling.
Lexi: Hey, I’m not really feeling up to dinner tonight. I might stay in and take a nap. I’ll see you tomorrow.
The smile disappears instantly. Something is wrong. She was fine. Better than fine. She was glowing a few hours ago. Laughing. Teasing me. Talking about
flying again. This isn’t random. And it’s not the first time. Over the last few weeks, there have been moments like this, a shift in her mood after only a few
hours apart. I told myself it was small. Temporary. Nothing serious. If it were important, she would tell me. Lexi doesn’t lie. But honesty isn’t the same as
volunteering everything. The thought of handing it to her while she looks like that, withdrawn, hiding, twists something sharp in my chest. A gift won’t fix whatever this is. And if she’s already asleep… No. That’s not the point. The point is that something made her withdraw. I need to know what. I could go
check on her, but the message reads like someone trying not to worry me. I hesitate for a moment, then speak quietly into the air.
“Hey, Academy. I know you don’t particularly like me. But you care about Lexi. I need to know if she’s okay.” I tell it. I don’t expect much. The Academy and I have an understanding at best. It tolerates me because Lexi cares about me. I tolerate it because it protects her. My opinion of it did improve slightly after it tried to warn me about the wolves breaking into my room, but we’re far from allies. At first, nothing happens. Then my phone buzzes again. I glance down and see a new app installing. SCRI, the Academy’s social media app? When it finishes, there are hundreds of notifications waiting. Hundreds. So this is what it wants me to see. I open the app and start scrolling. It takes me three seconds to understand what I’m looking at. My blood goés cold. Then it starts to boil. Photos of Lexi. Dozens of them. Bruises I never saw. Bruises I never noticed. Screenshots from the last few weeks, arrows pointing to marks visible one day and gone the next. People have annotated them, circled them, built timelines. The comments stack underneath each other, growing uglier the further 1 scroll. For a moment I don’t even understand what I’m seeing. Bruises? When? How? She never said anything. I never saw them.
The posts get worse. They claim she learned healing to hide what I’m doing to her. That she needs to fix herself after being around me. That the only reason she improved so quickly is because she’s ‘surviving‘ the dragon. Surviving me. My jaw tightens as I scroll further. I didn’t know about the bruises. I didn’t know about the harassment. I didn’t know that people were photographing her and analysing her like some kind of case study while I was busy planning where to take her flying next. What has been happening to her when I am not around? What has she been dealing with alone? And the things that they’re saying about her… And about us, it’s disgusting. I would never hurt her, but clearly someone has been. How long has this been happening for? I turn and head for the dorms immediately, moving fast enough that people rush to get out of my way. I need to get to her. Now.
I am at the entrance of the dorms when someone slams straight into me as the doors swing open. She rebounds off my chest like she’s hit stone. Initated and already on edge, I shove her aside and push forward.
“Ugh, asshole. Guess he’s pissed off. I bet Alexis will have to heal those bruises too.” She mutters angrily. I stop so abruptly the air feels like it snaps around
mne. Slowly, I turn.
“What the hell did you just say?” I demand. The girl pales instantly. Wolf. Of course, I hate these damn wolves. I recognise this one vaguelym one of the
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Chapter 84 84- Do Not Forget Dragons Are Overprotective
pack that hovers near Lexi’s classes. Lexi mentioned her once. Something with an M. It doesn’t matter. She takes a step back. Then another.
“I… Didn’t say…” She trails off timidly. I move toward her. She backs up and hits the wall behind her shoulders with a soft thud. I don’t raise my voice. I
don’t need to.
“Bruises. What bruises?” I repeat. My voice is a threat. Her throat bobs. She looks to the side. That is answer enough.
“You wrote those things about her.” I say, my voice rough with barely–contained fury.
“I didn’t do anything.” She insists weakly, and it’s so obviously a lie that something in my vision goes sharp at the edges. I step closer. She shrinks back
further, as if she can press through stone. My hand comes up without conscious thought, bracing against the wall beside her head. The impact leaves a
shallow crack in the surface. She flinches like I struck her.
“It wasn’t just me!” She blurts, panic breaking through her composure.
“Everyone’s saying it! It’s not just me!” She insists. I reach for her, not even sure what I’m intending to do, and she screams, ducking under my arm and
scrambling sideways. She bolts down the corridor, shoes slipping on the floor. For half a second, instinct takes over. Chase. Every predatory impulse in me
demands I run her down, drag every name out of her, make an example of someone so the whispers stop forever. My body tenses to move. Then Lexi’s face
flashes in my mind, alone in her room, thinking she has to handle this by herself. An even stronger instinct takes over. Protect, guard. I stand there, shaking
with rage, watching the wolf disappear around the corner. I could go after her. I want to. But Lexi matters more than this one person. With a sharp exhale, I
turn away from the direction she ran and head toward Lexi’s room instead, each step heavy with restrained violence. This isn’t over. But right now, she
comes first.
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I looove love looove this story. I’ve read all your stories (well, I’m almost half way through with Why you should never rescue stray demons), but I think this is my new f… More
7 days ago
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
