Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
Icome awake with a jolt, my earlier exhaustion washed away by the adrenaline rush from the dream. I glance at the clock, then dress quickly and head out to Uncle Finn’s house on the other side of campus.
With its cobblestone streets and historic architecture, St. Augustine College totally lives up to the guide’s earlier praise.
But at this hour, the campus is beyond beautiful.
The light of the setting sun paints the sky in shades of orange and pink that reflect off the white stone buildings.
It’s magical. Almost otherworldly. But not in a scary kind of way.
Instead, the campus seems welcoming, with students lounging on benches or crossing the quad in laughing groups, their voices carrying on the evening breeze. It’s normal. Peaceful.
Safe.
I’m so focused on convincing myself that everything is fine that I don’t see the guy until I collide with him.
“Whoa!” he exclaims as I scurry back, totally embarrassed.
I look up—way up—into a hypnotic pair of eyes.
They’re an impossible shade of gold, like amber held up to sunlight, and something twists in my chest. I suck in air as I see the rest of his ruthlessly handsome face.
The dark hair that’s just long enough to curl around his ears.
The strong jaw. The slightly crooked smile.
Those compelling eyes that seem to be stealing all my secrets.
“You,” I whisper, as a ribbon of heat coils through me.
He takes a step back, his eyes roaming over me with an intensity that makes me feel more than a little melty.
“Me?” his voice is like warm honey that I desperately want to taste. But his face has the look of a mouse with its tail caught in a trap.
“I’m Cora,” I say, extending my hand. He glances at it but doesn’t take it. On the contrary, he looks like I’d offered him a live grenade. “Cora Lyte,” I say, as if that will make it all clear. “Four years ago. The alley. You did the whole hero thing. Remember?”
“Oh! Right!” His expression shifts from closed-off to understanding. “That creep who was harassing you. You’re Dean Lyte’s niece.”
“Busted.” I grin, feeling strangely giddy that he remembers me.
I’d had quite a crush on the mysterious sophomore who’d come out of nowhere four years ago to save my fifteen-year-old ass from a doped-up, hairy tramp who looked like he could star in a remake of The Wolfman.
Seriously, the man had paws with claws. Although, to be fair, that was probably my hysteria.
“And this time you’re the one attacking me,” he says in mock disapproval. “So much for gratitude.”
I meet his eyes, melting a little under his steady, crush-worthy gaze. “Sorry about that. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Neither was I,” he admits in a voice that’s deeper than I remember. Not to mention slightly rougher in a sexy movie guy sort of way.
He cocks his head. “Something on your mind?” His smile is slow, and there’s an intensity to his gaze that makes me want to step closer and run in the opposite direction, all at the same time.
“No,” I say, probably too quickly. “I just realized you never told me your name.”
“Chase,” he says, this time extending his hand. I take it, and though I’m sure it must be my imagination, I feel a delicious sizzle all over me. Like dancing in a lightning storm.
His fingers linger on mine a beat longer than necessary, and my heart does a little fluttering thing. “Gage Chasen,” he says, releasing my hand. “But everyone calls me Chase.”
“Nice to see you, Chase. Grad school? Or are you taking the slow boat to an undergrad degree?”
His mouth quirks in a smile that I really shouldn’t think of as sexy. Except, yeah, that’s how I’m thinking of it.
“Grad school,” he confirms. “I just can’t stop the learning.”
I giggle, then want to smack myself. Way to be cool, Cora.
Then I pull myself together, draw an unsteady breath, and meet those stunning eyes one more time.
“Right. Well, sorry again for crashing into you,” I say, my cheeks burning as I edge sideways, eager to get away from this strange confusion that’s probably just insta-lust.
“Cora.”
I pause, looking up at him. His eyes never leave my face, studying me in a way that makes me feel warm all over, even while conjuring thoughts of gladiators and epic battles.
A hint of a smile touches his lips, and I’m certain he’s going to say something about the wolf and the girl with a flower behind her ear.
I mean, that practically screams fairy tale. But all he says is, “Be careful.”
“Careful?” I repeat, still thinking of shirtless gladiators and their swords.
He takes a step closer, and my breath hitches as my thoughts return firmly to the present.
“Some places in this town aren’t as safe as they look. Especially after dark.” His expression hardens. “You should know that better than most.”
I grimace. “Yeah. Good point.”
A hint of a smile tugs at his mouth, and there’s something so, so familiar about his face. More than just the lustful memory captured by my fifteen-year-old mind. I’m struggling to figure out what’s teasing my memory when he says, “Maybe one day we could—”
He cuts himself off with a shake of his head, leaving me feeling unpleasantly cold and hollow inside. “What?”
“Nothing,” he says, his voice now sounding almost business-like. “Just remembered someplace I need to be.”
He’s lying. I’m certain of it. But why?
“It was nice seeing you again, Cora Lyte. Especially since this time I didn’t need to fight off an attacker.”
I freeze, my entire body going cold as the memory crashes over me.
He had fought off the Wolfman. But he’s done more than that. Lots more.
Because this is the man from my dreams. I’m certain of it.
The only difference is that Golden Eyes has a scar in my dreams. Even so, as freakish as it sounds, I’m certain Chase is my dragon-riding savior, and less than an hour ago, he’d thrown a knife through a sand creature’s chest, then swooped down, his dragon’s wings kicking up sand as he pulled me onto the beast and settled me between his legs, his arm going around me even as I’d awakened with a jolt to the mundane safety of my dorm room.
It was him.
And that definitely wasn’t a normal dream.
Freakish, yeah. But I’m positive I’m right.
Too bad I haven’t got even the remotest idea what to say now.
While I stand frozen, he steps around me, pausing just long enough to study my face, as if committing it to memory. Then he moves on, leaving the way I came, his final words drifting back. “I’ll catch you later, Cora Lyte.”
The way he says my name—like he’s tasting it, memorizing it—sends another shiver down my spine. And as I continue across campus, I can feel his gaze following me, intense enough to leave a physical sensation between my shoulder blades.
But when I turn back, expecting to catch him watching me, there’s nobody there.
I tell myself that’s a good thing. After all, handsome boys with sexy vibes are a distraction I can’t afford.
That’s what I tell myself over and over as I continue my walk across campus, then down the path to the stately Spanish colonial that is the Dean’s House.
By the time I reach my uncle’s door, I’ve almost convinced myself I’m right.