20:14 Fri, Apr 24 &
How Not To Fall For A Dragon
Chapter 142 142- Do Not Forget Dragons Are Walking Natural Disasters
LEXI
Blake and I head back toward the dorms in silence. We have to cross the courtyard to get there. The moment we step outside, I tense
automatically, my grip tightening around his arm without even thinking about it. I brace myself. For the sight, for the smell, for
everything, but… There’s almost nothing there. At least, nothing I can see. The courtyard is dark. Not just dim, dark. The usual lighting is
gone completely, swallowed up like it was never there to begin with. The only thing left is shadow, thick and heavy, swallowing the
ground and anything that might be on it. I know instantly that it’s deliberate. The Academy. It’s hiding it. Hiding all of it. For me. A
small, shaky breath leaves me, half relief and half something else I don’t quite name. I don’t want to see it again. I really, really don’t. So
I don’t question it. I just lean closer to Blake and keep moving. I hold my breath as we pass through, pressing closer into his side, my
fingers curling tighter into his sleeve. I don’t want to smell anything either. I don’t want to breathe it in, don’t want to risk even the
faintest trace of what’s left lingering in the air. My head is clearer now, thanks to Layla, which is both a blessing and a curse. Because
now I understand exactly what I’m walking past. And that makes it worse. I hurry along, matching Blake’s pace as best I can, practically
glued to his side until we finally step inside the dorm building. Only then do I let my breath out. Only then do I loosen my grip. Blake
glances down at me, a flicker of concern crossing his face, but he doesn’t say anything. He just adjusts his pace slightly, making sure I’m
steady as we head down the hall. We’re halfway to my room when he suddenly stops. I almost walk straight into him.
“What is it?” I ask, blinking up at him. He hesitates.
“Your room was… trashed,” he says carefully.
“Oh.” I answer. That’s… not what I expected. I don’t really know what else to say to that.
“It might be fixed by now,” he adds quickly.
“But I wanted to warn you. Just in case.” he explains.
“Right… Thanks.” I answer. I keep walking, a little more hesitant now. I reach my door and pause, glancing to the side out of habit, Blake’s door is right next to mine again. I unlock my door and step inside, and immediately stop. This is not my room. This is Blake’s room. But… My key worked? I blink, frowning, then step back out into the hall, looking between him and the door like that might somehow fix it. I turn and try the other door, the one I thought was his earlier. It opens to reveal some bizarre storage closet. Random items stacked everywhere like some kind of chaotic lost-and-found.
“I saw that earlier,” Blake comments absently. He’s not even looking at it. He’s staring into his room.
“What are you looking at?” I ask, stepping back toward him. He points.
“There’s another door.” He tells me, I follow his gaze. And sure enough, there is. Past his bed, on the far wall, there’s a door that
definitely wasn’t there before.
“Surely not…” I mutter, already knowing the answer. Blake lets out a slightly awkward smile.
“On the way over here, I was thinking that sleeping next door to you doesn’t feel safe enough,” he admits as he walks over and opens it.
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Chapter 142 142 Do Not Forget Dragons Are Walking Natural Disasters
And there it is. My room. Exactly the same as before. Just… relocated. Accessible only through Blake’s. I step inside slowly, taking it in. Everything is where it should be. Clean. Untouched. Like the chaos from earlier never happened. The Academy didn’t just fix it. It… moved
- I glance back at Blake.
“Well… I suppose that’s safer,” I say, a little uncertain. Although the idea of essentially using him as a shield feels… complicated. Then again, he just burned an entire group of hunters to ash. So maybe what feels unsafe for me isn’t so much of a worry for him.
“What are your thoughts on this setup?” I ask.
“I approve,” Blake says immediately. Of course he does.
“But what about privacy?” I press.
“I have to go through your room every time I want to leave.” I point out.
“That doesn’t bother me.” He says easily. I study him for a moment. He’s telling the truth. Of course he is.
“Would you tell me if it ever did?” I ask.
“Yes.” He responds. Still truthful. I exhale slowly.
“Then… I guess we can try this,” I say.
“Good.” He says and nods once.
“Now go clean up and rest. Doctor’s orders.” He insists. I smile faintly.
“Alright.” I agree. I step fully into my room, then pause in the doorway. I don’t move. I don’t close the door. I just… hover. Because part of me is waiting. Waiting for something. A sign. A word. Anything. He just, he just did that. All of that. For me. And I know it doesn’t affect him the way it would affect me. I know that. But… something is off. There’s a tension in him, something tightly controlled under the surface. I want to check. I want to ask if he’s okay. But I don’t know how.
1
“Good night, Blake,” I say instead, lingering a second longer than necessary. Maybe he’ll come closer. Maybe he’ll… He doesn’t. He stays where he is. So I give a small, awkward wave, then turn and close the door behind me. I exhale heavily. I could have gone back. Could have kissed him goodnight. Said something more. But if he’s dealing with something… I don’t want to push. So I leave him be. For now. I head into my bathroom and turn the shower on. The moment the warm water hits me, I nearly melt. It’s bliss. The heat, the steam, the feeling of washing everything away, blood, dirt, smoke, all of it. I scrub my hair thoroughly, working through every strand until the last trace of it is gone. Watching the water run clear again feels… grounding. Like I’m slowly putting myself back together. By the time I step out, I feel… not normal. But closer. Cleaner. More me. I pull on a fresh set of fuzzy pyjamas, my third pair of the night, and let out a small, tired huff. Then I quickly blow-dry my hair. Not perfectly. Just enough that it won’t bother me. That’s all I can manage. Finally, I stumble over to my bed and collapse. I don’t even remember pulling the covers up. I’m asleep before my head hits the pillow.
Running. Hiding. Pain. Then smoke. Fire. Blood. Burning. It all blurs together into one endless, looping nightmare that my brain refuses to let go of. Every time I start to settle, it drags me right back into it, only worse. Sharper. Louder. More vivid. Like my imagination has decided the reality wasn’t quite horrific enough on its own and needs… embellishment. Faces I never saw. Voices that linger longer than
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Chapter 142 142- Do Not Forget Dragons Are Walking Natural Disasters
VPW 零
they should. Heat that feels hotter. Closer. Clawing at my skin. And always, always that moment right before it happens. I sleep for a long time. Reavy and deep. But not peacefully. Not even a little. When I finally wake up, it doesn’t feel like I’ve rested. My body is still heavy, my mind foggy and raw around the edges, like I’ve been scraped hollow and hastily put back together. It’s the kind of exhaustion that sleep doesn’t fix. But I don’t get the chance to recover properly. Despite Principal Istvan’s best efforts, I still have to speak to the police. Which is… about as fun as it sounds. I’m seated in a small room that feels far too enclosed, far too official, with three officers across from me. One is human, plain, serious, watching everything with sharp, assessing eyes. One… I think is a dryad. There’s something about her, her skin, her hair, the faint scent of earth and greenery, that gives it away, even if subtly. And the third is a wolf shifter. That one makes me nervous. Not because he’s done anything wrong. Just… habit. They were very insistent at first that Blake and I be interviewed separately. Very. But Blake… Blake shut that down immediately. He doesn’t even raise his voice. He doesn’t need to. One sharp look, a faint flicker of gold in his eyes, and the entire tone of the room shifts. The tension thickens, and suddenly the officers are… reconsidering. Within seconds, they decide that interviewing us together is perfectly acceptable after all. Funny how that works. Blake doesn’t say much during the questioning. He lets me talk. Which is probably for the best. So I tell them everything. Well… everything I can tell them. I explain what happened, how the hunters attacked, how they tried to take me, how everything escalated. I make it very, very clear that everything Blake did was to protect me. That he gave them a chance. That he warned them. That he didn’t just… I stop myself there. I don’t need to say it. They already know. Or at least, they suspect. The human officer watches Blake the entire time, his expression tight and unreadable. The wolf shifter isn’t much better, his posture stiff, wary in a way that makes me feel like he’s one wrong move away from seeing Blake as a threat instead of… what he is. A protector. The dryad, though… She’s different. She offers me a small, reassuring smile as I speak, something gentle and grounding that makes it easier to keep going. She nods at the right moments, her expression open, like she actually believes me. Or at least wants to. Still, by the time it’s over, I don’t feel great. Not about the questions. Not about the looks they were giving Blake. Not about any of it. It sits heavy in my chest, that lingering sense that this isn’t actually over. That this is just the beginning of a whole different kind of problem. And then…
“Well, my turn, I guess.” Someone announces. I look up. Professor Cage strides into view like he owns the place, completely ignoring the tension in the room. His nose is still slightly crooked despite being properly healed now, and there’s a limp in his step that he’s clearly trying not to show. His ankle is probably a little stiff.
“I’ve been waiting for a chance to talk about that ass Farrow,” he continues loudly, smirking.
“This should be fun.” He adds. It’s obnoxious. Deliberate. Completely inappropriate for the situation. And somehow… It helps. I can’t quite explain why, but the way he says it, the confidence, the casual dismissal of everything that just happened, it cuts through the lingering unease just enough to let me breathe a little easier. He means for me to hear it. Means for it to sound like everything is under control. Like this is something he can handle. And… it works. I’m still not used to feeling grateful toward Professor Cage. It’s strange how
fast things can change.
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Kimberly Lopez
this story is so amazing! its 2am where I am and I stayed up so I could read this update!!!!
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