How Not To Fall For A Dragon
Chapter 119 119- Do Not Fall For The Apology Smile
LEXI
“I hear you.” I say quietly. But I don’t go back to him. The space between us stays there, deliberate and heavy, and for a moment neither of us moves. Blake
slowly stands, like he’s not entirely sure what to do next, like any sudden movement might make things worse. The silence stretches, thick and
uncomfortable, and I can feel the weight of everything sitting between us.
“Are we done, Lexi?” His voice is soft. Careful. And there’s something in it that makes my chest tighten. Fear. Real fear. I know exactly what he’s asking. Not
about the conversation. About us. I hesitate because I don’t want to hurt him. But I also can’t lie.
“I don’t know.” I admit. The words feel heavy leaving my mouth, uncertain and incomplete, but they’re the truth. Blake moves then, stepping around me so he’s back in front of me again, trying to catch my eyes, trying to see me properly. I can feel the tension in him, the way he’s bracing for the answer before
he even asks.
“Are we still together?” He asks. This time, I don’t hesitate. Because this part… This part I do know.
“No.” The word comes out firm. Final. I don’t know what the future holds, but right now I don’t trust him enough to be in any kind of romantic relationship
with him. It lands between us like something solid. Blake stills. Completely. I watch it happen, the way his shoulders go rigid, the way his expression emptjes out just slightly, like he’s shutting something down before it can show.
“Right.” He says. His tone is blank. Too blank. Like he’s forcing it to be.
“Are we still friends?” He asks after a second, and there’s something more fragile in that question, something quieter, like he already knows the answer
might not be what he wants. I sigh, the sound tired more than anything.
“I want us to be. But I need to think about it. Because right now… I just don’t know if it’s possible.” I tell him honestly. That hurts him. I can see it. But he doesn’t argue. Doesn’t push. He just nods once, accepting it. His eyes drop slightly, landing on my neck, my wrists, where his gifts used to be. I can see the
flicker of recognition, of understanding.
“You didn’t need to give them back.” He says quietly. I shrug, not really agreeing, not really arguing. I never really completely accepted them as mine
anyway, although the bracelet that is still tucked away in my pocket weighs heavily on me. That secret spark of hope I still have for us.
“I really am sorry, Lexi, I’m going to fix things. You’ll forgive me eventually.” He says again, more firmly this time, like he needs me to understand that part.
I look at him. And for a second, I wish I had his certainty. Because to him, this is something that can be fixed. Something he can do something about. But
for me… It’s not about forgiveness. It’s about trust. And I don’t know how to rebuild that yet.
“I hope you’re right.” I say softly. Blake gives me a small, tentative smile, like that answer is enough to hold onto.
“That’s something at least.” He says, trying for optimism. And I let him have it. Even if I’m not sure I believe it.
Blake looks around the vault, his gaze moving over the shelves, the piles, the scattered pieces of gold and stone like he’s seeing it all differently now.
“Pick something.” He says. I blink at him.
“Huh?” I ask.
“Pick something.” He repeats, a little more quietly this time. I frown, the meaning settling in and immediately sitting wrong in my chest.
“You can’t just give me something and fix things, Blake.” I tell him firmly.
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4:55 pm
Chapter 119 119- Do Not Fall For The Apology Smile
“That’s not what I’m doing.” He says quickly, like he expected that response.
“I just want… I just…” He exhales, frustrated with himself.
“Do you want something? Anything?” He asks. Before I can answer, he starts moving through the room. And I realise, he knows exactly where I’ve been. Exactly what I touched. He goes straight to the shelf with the emerald necklace I picked up earlier, lifting it without hesitation.
“This one?” He asks, holding it out to me. I shake my head.
“No.” I respond. He doesn’t argue. Just sets it down and moves on, already reaching for something else.
“A bodk?” He tries next, pulling one of the older volumes from the shelf I stopped at earlier. I shake my head again.
“No, Blake. I don’t want a book.” I answer. He keeps going anyway. It’s almost… Frantic. Not loud. Not panicked. But there’s a quiet urgency to it, like he’s searching for the right thing. The thing that will fix this. The thing that will make everything go back to how it was. He offers me diamonds next. Then something small and intricate that probably costs more than my entire house. Then something else. And something else. Each time, I say no. Each time, his movements get a little slower. A little less certain.
“Blake, stop.” I say finally, my voice firmer now.
“I don’t want or need anything from your hoard.” I say leaving no space for argument. That makes him pause. Really pause. For a second, he just stands
there, holding whatever it is he picked up last, before slowly putting it back in its place. Then he nods.
“Alright.” He agrees. The word is quiet. And just like that, all the energy drains out of him. He looks different now. Tired, empty and sad. It hits something
in my chest that I don’t want to examine too closely. I look away, clearing my throat, trying to steady myself.
“I want to go back to the Academy now.” I say.
“I need to figure out what the Academy was trying to tell us earlier.” I add. I need to focus on something real. Something practical. Something that isn’t
this. Blake nods, slower this time. Reluctant, but not arguing.
“Okay.” He agrees. And then, finally, we leave the vault.
We head straight for the front door. I don’t look back. I don’t think I could if I tried. On the way out, we pass Blake’s mum. She’s standing off to the side, composed and watchful, like she’s been expecting this. Her golden eyes flick between us, sharp and assessing, and something in my chest tightens instinctively. Before I can even react, Blake steps forward. Deliberate. Positioning himself between us. It’s subtle, but not really. There’s nothing casual about the way he shifts, about the way his shoulders square just slightly as he meets her gaze. I don’t understand the look he gives her, not fully, but I understand
the intent behind it. It’s a warning. She doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move. But she does look amused. That makes it worse somehow. Blake doesn’t acknowledge it. He just keeps moving, guiding me out into the yard like nothing else matters. He steps away from me and shifts, fire blooming around him in a controlled, familiar burst. Normally, I would watch, really watch, take in the transformation, the sheer power of it. But not this time. This time, I’m too tired. Too raw. I climb up without comment, settling into place on his back, adjusting automatically even though my hands feel a little unsteady. The moment I’m secure, he takes off. The difference is immediate. This flight is nothing like the others. No sudden bursts of speed. No sweeping arcs through the sky. No playful detours or circling just because he enjoys it. He flies steadily. Directly. Controlled in a way that feels almost restrained. It’s easier for me. I don’t have to cling to him just to feel secure. I don’t have to brace myself against sharp turns or unexpected drops. But somehow, it feels worse. The wind still hits my face, cold and relentless, making my eyes sting almost instantly. I’m not dressed for this, not prepared for the chill or the pressure of it, but I don’t even try to shield myself. I just let it happen. Let the tears fall. Because at least this way, I can pretend it’s just the wind. I SHOULD be thinking about what’s waiting for us back at the Academy. About what the Academy was trying to tell us. About whether it’s safe. About what’s going to happen next. But I can’t. Because all I can think about is this. About how different this feels. About how every other time we’ve flown together, it felt like freedom. Like escape.
Like something just for us. And now… Now it just feels like distance. Like something slipping away. My chest tightens as the realisation settles in, slow and heavy. This might be the last time. The last time I ever fly with him. Because flying with Blake, it means trusting him completely. Being vulnerable and letting go of control. Letting him take me wherever he chooses and knowing he won’t hurt me. That he won’t trap me. That he won’t take something from
me I can’t get back. And I don’t think I can do that anymore. I don’t think I can trust him like that again.
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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.
