6. Baron
BARON
The chair creaks beneath me as I extend my legs, the silence pulsing in my ears as I stare around the empty room.
It feels weird being in here alone; it feels even stranger with the bed across from me completely bare.
But there’s something tethering me here, as if going would mean leaving a piece of me behind.
I should be relieved that Ivy is no longer here. I should be thankful that I can go back to my dorm and pretend she doesn’t exist.
I should, but I can’t.
Dragging a hand down my face, I tilt my head to glance out the window.
The torrential weather we’ve been having is gone, replaced by the familiar rays of the sun warming Neverbound Academy, but it does nothing to change the swirling tension and frustration inside of me.
Does she really think that? Does she truly think I want her dead?
What have I said or done to make her think otherwise?
My fingers curl around the arm of the chair as my lips purse.
I don’t like feeling helpless or out of control, yet when it comes to Ivy, that’s all I’m left with.
Sitting here isn’t helping me, but I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do. The others left hours ago, straight after she disappeared with Hugo, but I can’t seem to find the same strength.
Watching her in that bed, I knew she was safe. Sitting at her door, observing everyone who entered, gave me purpose, and arguing with her fed my soul in a way I can’t describe.
The reality is, watching her die, burn, and resurrect plays on repeat in my mind, haunting me. Archer was right. That might be her magic, and a relief at that, but I never want to see that happen to her ever again. My chest tightens at the thought.
Maybe that’s where I lost a piece of myself?
Sitting here isn’t going to fix it, I know that, but the discomfort that resonates inside of me and the sense of loss that’s consuming me is undeniable.
I feel like a shell of myself, and I don’t know how to fix it.
Ivy has flipped my world upside down, and now I’m left sitting in her hospital room, staring at the bed, reminiscing about the bliss I felt simply watching her sleep.
Knowing she was safe and within reach offered me calmness and peace.
Watching her leave has created a tsunami of emotions inside of me, crashing against my soul over and over again.
I need to get out of here.
Even if that means leaving a piece of me behind.
Rising from my seat, I hover at the foot of the bed for a moment, envisioning her there, the sheets all crumpled and her blonde hair spread in every direction, but all I’m greeted with are pristine sheets and a deeper air of loneliness.
With a grunt, I turn for the door, stomping down the hall without a backward glance. I hear a few members of staff attempt to greet me as I pass, but I’m too lost in my emotions to pay enough attention to what they’re saying.
Reaching the exit, I slow to a stop the second I’m basking in the gentle sun.
It warms my skin, igniting my veins, but one thing remains perfectly clear: I can still feel a piece of me is missing.
But now that I’m outside, it’s clear it doesn’t linger inside those doors; it’s somewhere else on campus.
It’s with her.
Unable to comprehend the truth, I stuff my hands in my pockets and move, stomping across campus in a blind march until I find myself at the exact spot where one of my many mistakes unfolded.
The clifftops.
Anger burns through me as I recall the horror that anchored inside of me, leaving me to gape in disbelief as she tumbled off the edge.
The simple truth is, for the first time in my life, when my survival instincts took over, I didn’t fight first, and I didn’t even consider running. Instead, I was left frozen and broken in place as I watched my world fall apart.
Not that she would believe me.
Not that I would blame her.
Tugging the hair tie from my head, I let my hair fall around my shoulders, attempting to hide from the pain that has taken root somewhere I can’t reach.
I can feel the tendrils of self-destruction thicken with the need to hurt as much as she has. Pressing my palms into my temples, I try to calm the battle inside of me, but the war has already begun.
Ping ponging back and forth between regret and indecision, I can’t bring myself to acknowledge the state I’m in. It’s embarrassing. It’s real. It’s desperate.
Do I want to make things better with her?
Do I want her to know the pain I feel too?
Do I want to expose my vulnerabilities?
No, I don’t, but there’s a part of me, deep inside, that knows that’s the only way anything is going to change.
I shake my head.
After Odesa, I vowed never to trust anyone to that same capacity again. I promised I wouldn’t let myself get hurt, and instead, all I’ve done is cause someone else pain.
What does that say about me?
More than I want it to.
Spiraling, I pause, desperate to bring myself back from the brink before I do something stupid, like peer over the edge before me.
I manage to take two steps back, my body moving on its own as I kick off my boots and quickly lose my socks.
The second my feet press into the grass, I feel a sense of calm, but it’s not enough.
If I were a Land Protector like my brother, I’m sure I would take more from it.
As it stands, it’s enough to calm the spiraling inside, but my thoughts remain chaotic.
With my head hung low and my mind scattered, I focus on my breathing, trying to decipher what it is that is causing me so much distress.
I already have the answer; I just don’t want to admit it.
My spine stiffens at the sound of a gentle whoosh in the distance, my muscles clenching for a moment until the ground vibrates with a thud. My heart races, hope blossoming in my veins as I refuse to lift my head, until a rough surface drags across the back of my hand.
Flipping it over, I press my palm against the familiar green scales as my head tilts back.
For the first time in forever, the smile on my face is genuine as I stare at Alaric.
Two brushes of my hand against him and the chaos starts to melt away, revealing the ability to think a little more clearly.
He looks out over the clifftop, getting comfortable beside me as I lean into him, my silent soother.
Walking the length of him, I keep my palm connected, taking every ounce of peace from him, until I reach his tail and notice something is different.
His feelings are scattered too.
I can sense it.
Distracted by his needs, I press against the side of his face as I look deep into his eyes and open my mind to him.
“Alaric?”
He shakes his head, downtrodden and heartbroken.
“Alaric, what’s going on?”
He continues to look off in the distance, like he can’t piece together his emotions either, and worry gnaws inside of me.
A soft smile curls the corner of my mouth despite the circumstances as I acknowledge the fact that we’re one and the same, right down to our souls. He’s another part of me, as I am him, so whatever he’s got going on, I want to help, just like he does for me time and time again.
Running my hand over his scales, I try to be his silent soother as I recall the day we met.
A hatched shell waited for me in my brand new dorm as I entered Neverbound Academy. The second I had been announced as an Air Protector, his egg appeared in my room, incubating until I arrived to find him.
Everyone else cooed and awed over their dragons like they were an accessory, but Alaric wouldn’t have stood for that. He likes distance more than I do. Isolation is a gift, not a punishment, and letting people in is not worth the effort and pain.
He never liked Odesa. Not that he knew her for long.
Her ceremony was six months after I was announced as Ivy’s fated mate, but I should have known then she was no good.
Alaric has a knack for seeing the truth in people.
Understanding who they are within and deciding if he likes what he sees or not.
Truthfully, that means he doesn’t like most people.
He tolerates Sax because he’s my brother, another part of me, and he can manage to be close to Teddy and Archer, but that’s as far as it goes.
In the world of dragons, Lucky, Hugo’s dragon, whose name does not reflect the sheer size and beast-like aura he has, is the only one he will go near; otherwise, he’s a loner. Just like me.
Except for her.
That day out by Inky Lake, he consoled her in a way he’s only ever done for me.
He’s fierce and angry most of the time, except that day, and the day up here too. Whenever Ivy is close, he’s calmer.
Instead of lingering on what that means about my mate, I’m plagued by reminders of the academy professors trying to get me to trade him. I’m sure most others would have, opting for a softer dragon to match with, but he is the perfect reflection of me.
Flawed for sure, but his resilience, stubbornness, and sheer brutality match every inch of me.
As the wind picks up around us, I’m dragged back to the present and catch a glimpse from the corner of Alaric’s eye.
Need.
“Alaric, talk to me.”
He shuffles slightly on the spot, discomfort battling between us as he huffs, a dark plume of smoke coming from his nose.
“Alaric,” I repeat, more of a warning this time, and he seems to sigh.
“Is she okay?”
“Who?”
The side eye he gives me is enough of an answer as I drag my hand down my face.
“Ivy,” I breathe, and he heaves another sigh.
“I have to know if she’s okay.”
“She’s fine.”
“With my own eyes.”
I scoff. “We’re not doing that.”
“We have to.”
“Say’s who?”
“Me.”
“Alaric.”
He pounds his claws into the ground in frustration, reminding me of the fact that he is, indeed, two years old, and acting like a damn toddler right now.
“I can’t fly properly while consumed with worry.”
I shake my head. “Maybe it’s because I haven’t flown in a while.”
“We both know that’s not true.”
“Alaric, it’s not as simple as that.”
“I’m aware of her pain and need to see her for myself, Baron. You’re forgetting I feel your anguish as my own. So you’re just as much to blame.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I shake my head.