Chapter 46
I woke to warmth and the steady rhythm of breathing that wasn't mine.
For a moment, I was disoriented—this wasn't my bed, wasn't my room, the shadows on the ceiling were wrong. Then memory returned: the letter, the threat, the North Tower's defensive wards. Sharing Kairen's bed because someone wanted me dead and propriety seemed less important than safety.
Except I wasn't on my side of the enormous bed anymore.
I was pressed against Kairen's chest, my head tucked under his chin, one of my arms wrapped around his waist. His arm was around my shoulders, holding me close even in sleep. Our legs were tangled together under the blankets, and his shadows had wrapped around us both like a protective cocoon.
Through the soulbond, I felt his deep sleep—peaceful despite everything, his subconscious mind settled by my proximity.
Heat flooded my face. I must have had a nightmare. Must have reached for him unconsciously, seeking comfort, and he'd responded on instinct. Now we were wrapped around each other like we'd been sleeping together for years instead of maintaining careful distance on opposite sides of the bed.
I should move. Should extract myself carefully and return to my side before he woke up and we both had to deal with the awkwardness of this.
But he was so warm. And through the soulbond, I could feel that this proximity had settled something in him—the constant edge of tension that had been present since the letter was gone, replaced by the kind of peace he rarely achieved.
Moving would wake him. Would end whatever dream he was having that made him hold me this protectively.
I stayed still, barely breathing, trying to figure out how to handle this without making it worse.
His breathing changed—the shift from deep sleep to waking awareness. Through the soulbond, I felt the moment he realized our position. Felt his surprise, his confusion about how we'd ended up tangled together, his own flash of embarrassment.
But he didn't move. Didn't immediately release me or pull away.
"Bad dream?" he asked quietly, his voice rough with sleep.
"I... don't remember." That was true. If I'd had a nightmare, it had faded completely, leaving only the vague sense that I'd needed comfort. "I'm sorry. I must have—I didn't mean to—"
"It's fine." His arm tightened slightly around my shoulders. "You were frightened. It makes sense that you'd seek proximity unconsciously."
"Still. This is..." I gestured vaguely at our thoroughly tangled position. "A bit more proximity than we agreed to."
"The bed is enormous. Somehow we both ended up in the exact center." His tone held dry amusement. "Very efficient use of space."
Despite my embarrassment, I smiled against his chest. "Very efficient."
"Should I be offended that you apparently find me comfortable enough to use as a pillow?"
"Should I be offended that you apparently hold me in your sleep like I might disappear?"
Through the soulbond, I felt his acknowledgment of the truth—that he had been holding me protectively, even unconscious. That some part of him feared waking up to find me gone, eliminated by threats he couldn't stop.
"We should probably move," he said. "Get up. Start the day. Pretend this isn't incredibly awkward."
"Probably."
Neither of us moved.
"The problem," Kairen continued, "is that you're very warm. And I haven't slept that peacefully in five years. So moving seems counterproductive."
"That's your void-damaged emotional reasoning talking."
"My void-damaged emotional reasoning makes excellent points." His thumb traced absent patterns on my shoulder through the borrowed shirt. "Also, the guards don't expect us for another hour. We could stay like this and no one would know."
"You want to stay tangled together in bed when someone literally threatened to kill me yesterday?"
"Especially because someone threatened to kill you yesterday. They want you frightened and compliant. Sleeping peacefully wrapped around my shadow bond seems like the opposite of that."
Through the soulbond, I felt his genuine reasoning—part comfort-seeking, part defiance, part desperate need to hold onto something good when everything else felt dangerous and uncertain.
"Five more minutes," I conceded. "Then we get up and pretend to be functional humans."
"Deal."
We lay in comfortable silence, his heartbeat steady beneath my ear. Through the windows, I could see dawn light painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. Aurelius would be waking, stretching his wings, preparing for another day of protective circles overhead.
"I had a nightmare," I admitted quietly. "Don't remember the details, but I woke up terrified. Must have reached for you without thinking."
"I pulled you close without waking up." His voice was soft. "Felt your fear through the bond and responded on instinct."
"So we're both responsible for this embarrassing position."
"Shared responsibility. Very diplomatic." His chest moved with quiet laughter. "Though I should probably mention—this isn't actually embarrassing. Uncomfortable to acknowledge, maybe. But not embarrassing."
"We're literally wrapped around each other."
"We're soulbound dragon pairs who survived assassination attempts and are currently dealing with threats from genocidal fanatics. Physical comfort seems pretty reasonable under the circumstances."
"That's surprisingly mature reasoning."
"Don't sound so shocked. I'm occasionally capable of maturity." He paused. "Also, Caleb walked in on me sleeping with a book on my face last week. Comparatively, this is much more dignified."
I laughed despite myself, the sound muffled against his chest. Through the soulbond, I felt his satisfaction at making me laugh—at providing some moment of lightness when everything else felt heavy with threat and consequence.
"Five minutes are up," he said eventually. "We should get ready. Classes resume today, and acting normal requires preparation."
"Acting normal when someone wants me dead. Just regular Academy things."
"Exactly." But he still didn't move. Through the soulbond, I felt his reluctance to end this moment of peace, of simple comfort that had nothing to do with bonds or magic or cosmic connections.
Finally, he released me carefully, and we both extracted ourselves from the tangle of limbs and blankets. I immediately missed the warmth, the security of being held while sleeping.
"I need to get my actual clothes," I said, trying to sound normal despite my face still feeling hot. "These borrowed things are comfortable, but showing up to class in your sleepwear seems inadvisable."
"Headmistress Thorne had your belongings moved here last night. They should be in the wardrobe." He gestured to the large wooden cabinet against the wall. "Along with mine. Apparently we're roommates now."
I found my clothes neatly arranged—someone had organized everything while we slept, which should have been comforting but instead reminded me that we were under constant observation. Guards, faculty, people watching to make sure no one got close enough to threaten us again.
"I'll use the bathing room first," Kairen said, grabbing fresh clothes. "Unless you want—"
"You go. I need a few minutes to process that I just spent the night wrapped around you like some kind of climbing vine."
"Very aggressive vine. Truly threatening botanical behavior." But his lips quirked in a smile as he disappeared into the bathing room.
I sat on the edge of the bed, pressing my hands to my still-hot face. We'd slept together and I'd ended up using him as a pillow while he held me protectively. It shouldn't feel significant. We were soulbound, sharing space for safety, both dealing with threats and stress and complicated emotions.
But it did feel significant.
Through the soulbond, I felt his awareness of my spiraling thoughts. His amusement mixed with something softer—satisfaction that I'd felt safe enough to seek comfort from him unconsciously.
Stop overthinking, his thought came clear through our connection. It was just sleep. Proximity. Nothing scandalous.
We're not even officially courting and we just spent the night tangled together.
We're also not officially courting and we've kissed twice, merged consciousness, and performed twilight healing on each other's spiritual damage. Sleeping seems comparatively innocent.
He had a point.
By the time he emerged from the bathing room—hair damp, dressed in Academy uniform, shadows calmer than they'd been yesterday—I'd managed to compose myself enough to act relatively normal.
"Your turn," he said. "I'll make tea while you get ready."
The bathing room was large, clearly designed for someone who'd needed space and privacy after the dragon bond. I washed quickly, changed into my Academy uniform, and tried to make my hair look presentable rather than like I'd spent the night pressed against someone's chest.
When I emerged, Kairen had set out tea and breakfast—simple bread and cheese that had been left by the guards. He was standing by the window, watching Aurelius and Nyx circle in the early morning light.
"They're angrier than I've ever felt them," he said without turning. "Nyx is... she's ready for war. If whoever wrote that letter shows themselves, she'll tear them apart."
"Aurelius too. He's been quiet, but I can feel his rage through the bond." I accepted the tea he offered. "They survived the Purge Wars. Watched their mates die. They're not going to let history repeat."
"Good. Because I'm ready for war too." He turned to face me, storm-gray eyes intense. "Someone threatened you. Got close enough to leave evidence of that threat. And I'm done being reactive. Done waiting for them to make the next move."
"What are you planning?"
"To be exactly what they accused light dragons of being—destabilizing.
Powerful. Unwilling to accept their vision of necessary order.
" His shadows pulsed once. "They think eliminating you prevents upheaval.
So we create upheaval. Make it clear that killing you causes more chaos than letting you exist."
"That sounds dangerous."
"Everything about us is dangerous. Might as well use it strategically." He set down his tea. "Are you ready? Classes start in an hour. We should eat, make ourselves presentable, and act like students who aren't dealing with death threats."
"I'm as ready as I'll ever be."
We ate in comfortable silence, the embarrassment of waking up tangled together fading into something more natural. Through the soulbond, I felt his constant awareness of me—checking that I was calm, not spiraling into fear, managing the stress of everything happening.
A knock on the door made us both tense. Kairen's shadows went immediately defensive before Professor Veyra's voice called through.
"Mr. Draxen, Miss Vale—your guard escort is here. Ready to head to breakfast?"
Kairen opened the door to reveal Professor Veyra and Master Wren, both looking alert despite the early hour. Behind them, two more faculty members I didn't recognize stood in the corridor.
"Your protection detail," Professor Veyra explained. "Two guards with you at all times during the day. Four at night when you're in the Tower. We're taking this threat seriously."
"Lovely. An audience for everything we do." Kairen's voice was dry, but through the soulbond I felt his reluctant acceptance. This was necessary, even if it was suffocating.
We made our way to the dining hall, our protection detail following at a discrete but obvious distance. Students stared as we passed—word had clearly spread about something happening, even if the specific details of the threat weren't public knowledge.
Brooke and Caleb were already at our usual table, both looking exhausted.
"How did you sleep?" Brooke asked as we sat.
"Fine," I said automatically.
Through the soulbond, I felt Kairen's amusement at the lie. We'd slept tangled together, seeking comfort unconsciously, sharing warmth and proximity that we were both still processing.
But that wasn't breakfast conversation.
"Headmistress Thorne briefed us more thoroughly this morning," Caleb said quietly. "Someone on the inside. The wards deliberately disabled. That's... that's worse than an external threat."
"Much worse," Kairen agreed. "Which means we trust no one completely and assume everyone is potentially compromised until proven otherwise."
"That's a terrible way to live," Brooke said.
"That's survival." He took a bite of bread. "Welcome to politics."
The morning passed in a blur of classes and constant awareness of our guards.
Professor Aldric's Magical Theory was tense—he clearly knew about the threat, kept glancing at me like I might disappear between one moment and the next.
Creature Taxonomy with Professor Veyra was slightly better, though she positioned herself between me and the door the entire class.
By lunch, I was exhausted from the constant vigilance.
"This is going to drive me insane," I muttered to Kairen as we claimed a table in the dining hall. "Everyone watching, everyone suspicious, everyone treating me like I might shatter."
"You might shatter. Someone threatened to kill you." His voice was matter-of-fact. "They're being cautious."
"I'm not fragile."
"No. But you are threatened. There's a difference." He pushed food toward me. "Eat. You'll feel better with actual sustenance."
Through the soulbond, I felt his own exhaustion—the constant vigilance, the protective fury, the fear he was suppressing beneath cold efficiency. Last night's peaceful sleep had helped, but one night couldn't undo weeks of stress.
"Tonight," I said quietly. "We're both actually sleeping. No staying up worrying, no guard duty, just rest."
"Are you planning to use me as a pillow again?"
My face heated. "That was accidental."
"I know. I'm not complaining." His shadows reached under the table, wrapping around my ankle with gentle insistence. "If unconscious proximity helps you sleep, I'm not going to object to being comfortable."
"That's very practical of you."
"I'm occasionally practical." His lips quirked. "Though my mother would have strong opinions about shared beds and proper courting protocol."
"Your mother knows someone wants me dead. I think she'd understand."
"You'd be surprised." But his expression softened. "Though yes, she'd understand. And probably threaten whoever wrote that letter with creative violence involving her husband's sword collection."
Despite everything—the threat, the constant guards, the exhaustion—I smiled.
We'd survived assassination attempts by trained assassins.
We'd survive this too.
Together.
Even if that meant waking up tangled together, seeking comfort unconsciously, learning that proximity wasn't scandalous but necessary.
Shadow and light, functioning through impossible circumstances.
One awkward morning at a time.