Chapter 19 Two Years and Three Months Prior
Two Year and Three Months Prior
I tried to speak to Morgen’s dragon today.
She snapped at me, and the other rider’s dragon, Veeron, told me Varax does not want my warnings.
When I left, the boy with the hauntingly familiar eyes asked if I was alright.
I tried not to stare too long at his face.
If I seek interest in him, it could raise questions I should not yet attempt to answer.
—Ana, Priestess to the Usurper King, Arcadia
“What kind of dreams do you have?” Nya asked Morgen, her eyes on the clear blue sky above.
She could feel his eyes on her from where he was sitting against a large boulder.
Her feet were in his lap despite his grumbling about getting dirt on his pants.
She wasn’t sure if he actually cared about that, or if he just didn’t like her being this close.
Sometimes, when their hands accidentally brushed, or they looked at each other a little too long, he would get standoffish and quiet.
She’d started to teach herself not to take it personally.
She knew he liked her, but he had made clear he was never going to let their friendship go there.
“I don’t dream often.”
She sighed. “Of course you do. You just don’t remember them.”
“Do you remember yours?”
“Not usually,” she said quietly. “But I got nightmares quite often as a child.”
“About?”
“No idea. Sometimes, I think I still get them, but all I ever remember when I wake up is Varax’s eyes, and that’s only occasionally. I assume she’s just being nosy, but I don’t know. I’ve never asked.”
“Hm.”
She sat up, smirking. “What? Does she not make special appearances in your dreams too?”
“Maybe she does. But like I said, I never remember.”
She tilted her head, trying to make sense of his sudden shift in mood. He didn’t seem angry or even really upset. There was just something off about the way he kept avoiding looking into her eyes.
“Are you okay?”
“Of course,” he replied. Then, he surprised her by asking, “What do you know about your magic?”
She lifted a brow, taken aback. “Oh. Ah, not much. I can feel it, but I never use it, and I’m not even entirely sure how it manifests.” She shrugged, chewing on her lip, a surge of odd anxiety twisting her stomach. “Probably like my mother’s. Why?”
He nodded, though his brow was creased in what she thought might be concern, or even worry. “I was just curious.”
“You’re being weird.”
“I am not.”
She rolled her eyes, attempting to dissipate the tension. “Yes, you are. Do you think I can’t tell?”
“You don’t know me, Nya,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically sharp. He wasn’t looking at her, and she flinched when he added, “You may think you do, but you exist in a bubble. You don’t even know yourself here.”
She scooted away and scrambled to her feet. “If that’s what you think…I should probably just go.”
He shut his eyes, muttering something she didn’t catch under his breath before he stood and faced her, finally looking her in the eye. “I crossed a line,” he said, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Did you mean it?”
“I shouldn’t have said it like that.”
Her jaw tightened, and she swallowed to banish the sudden tightness in her throat. “Fine.”
She turned, stalking away, but he caught her wrist, and she whirled, hating that he saw the angry tears in her eyes.
“Nya, I didn’t mean—”
“That I’m some sheltered child who you just indulge with visits when you escape what I’m sure you think is the ‘real’ world?” she snapped, hot tears cascading down her cheeks.
His fingers slid down her wrist, his touch light. But he didn’t let go when he spoke, and she was so stupid and needy, she was willing to take anything from him, even upset like this.
“No. All I meant was that I think there are things about yourself you don’t acknowledge, your magic being one of them.”
“Perhaps,” she whispered.
His fingers tightened slightly. “And I don’t come here just to humor you. I probably shouldn’t keep returning at all, but—”
“Varax insists, I know.”
“No, Nya,” he said quietly. He hesitated, and she swore she saw his jaw tremble before he steadied it. “Because I do. Varax is old and cranky and doesn’t always want to make the journey. I never want to miss seeing you, though.”
“Oh,” she whispered, the tears threatening to return.
He let go of her, and she had to make a conscious effort not to grab his hand, to hoard his touch and beg for more.
He nodded stiffly. “You can go if you want. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t spend the next few weeks assuming I thought so low of you.”
“You won’t be back for a while?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m not entirely sure how long. Before the end of the moon cycle, probably, but Varax will let you know.”
“Alright.”
She wanted to touch him, to hug him goodbye, to press her face to his chest and listen to his heart. But he didn’t want those things, would never allow that closeness between them. So, she merely said, “Goodbye, Morgen,” and began the trek home.