Chapter Seven
Ari
Tremor
I don’t sleep.
Not even a little.
Every time I close my eyes, he’s there. Not in a scary way. Not even in a particularly inappropriate way, though my imagination is clearly trying to betray me.
He’s just present. Watching. Waiting. Like he’s always been there.
The weird thing is ... it doesn’t feel new anymore. It feels familiar. Like I’ve dreamed of him a hundred times before. A hundred unusual ways. And now my body is catching up to something my mind can’t explain.
I press a cold washcloth to my face, hoping it’ll shock me out of this haze. It doesn’t. I’m flushed and jittery and my heart keeps skipping like it’s dancing to a rhythm I haven’t learned yet.
What happened last night ... that moment when he caught me ... it wasn’t just chemistry. I’ve felt attraction before. I may be a virgin but I’m not an idiot. This was something else.
The second my hands hit his chest it was like someone flipped a switch. Like lightning crawled under my skin, or static ran down my spine. My mouth went dry. My lungs forgot how to breathe. My magic shifted, just a flicker, but enough to make me stop and feel.
And worse? He knew. He saw it. And he didn’t even pretend to be surprised.
It’s like he expected it. Like he’s been waiting for it.
I sit down hard on the edge of the bed and stare at my hands. Something is wrong or maybe something is finally right, and I’ve just been kept in the dark for so long that the truth feels dangerous.
Either way, I need answers. And Malichai will be the one to give them to me.
****
Work is hell. Not because it’s busy. It’s a Monday, which means half-empty booths and an almost eerie quiet in The Gin Room. But my nerves are strung so tight I could snap.
He isn’t here tonight, and I hate that I notice. More than that, I hate that part of me aches from the absence.
What the hell is happening to me?
I barely hear Celeste call my name twice.
“Are you okay?” she asks, tossing me a rag to clean down the bar. “You’ve been zoned out all night.”
“Yeah,” I lie. “Just tired.”
She narrows her eyes. “You’re glowing again.”
“I do not glow.”
“My friend, you’re basically a sentient sparkler right now.”
I groan and rub my temples. “I need caffeine. Or alcohol. Or possibly a spell to erase the last twenty-four hours.”
She grins. “So ... something happened?”
I hesitate. Then I shrug. “Something weird.”
“Let me guess. Malachi?”
My cheeks flame.
“Oh, my God! What did he do? Did he touch you again?” She grins like she just won a bet with herself. “Did it feel like a freight train of emotion and lust crashed through your soul?”
I blink. “Yes?”
She stops smiling. “Oh, shit.”
“What does that mean?”
“That means something’s waking up.”
I laugh nervously. “Waking up? Like what, my libido?”
“No, Ari.” Her voice is serious now. “Your magic. Or maybe something bigger.”
I don’t say anything. Because she’s not wrong.
Something in me has been stirring for weeks now. Subtle things. Shifts in energy. Magic moving through me in new ways. Dreams I can’t remember but wake up from breathless. The feeling of being watched. Followed. Known.
And now, every time Malichai walks into a room, it’s like the world realigns.
I shake my head. “No. That’s not... That’s not how life works.”
Celeste arches a brow. “You sure about that?”
I’m not. Not even a little.
A customer waves me over and the conversation ends but it doesn’t clear up any of the questions bouncing around in my mind. What is happening? What does Malichai have to do with it? Why is my magic changing?
When I leave work, the city is quieter, like it is waiting to see what will happen next.
The sky is bruised purple with a sliver of moon hanging low.
I pull my hoodie tighter around me and start walking home, trying to convince myself I’m not being followed.
That the shiver at my neck is just nerves. Not ... something else.
But halfway home, I feel it again. The pull. A magnetic twist in my gut that says someone is watching me. Only this time, it isn’t threatening. It’s protective and familiar.
I turn sharply into an alley and press my back to the brick wall, reaching deep into the magic that hums under my skin.
I whisper a low chant, one I learned from my friend Akasha to reveal anything or anyone hidden close to me. And suddenly, I see him.
Not Malichai. Not exactly. But ... a dragon.
Perched on a rooftop, black and silver scales glittering under the moonlight. Wings tucked. Eyes like molten obsidian, watching me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.
And my heart knows.
“Oh, goddess,” I whisper.
The vision fades, vanishing like smoke, and I’m left alone again in the quiet, my pulse thundering, my knees weak. He’s not just some powerful paranormal with a silver tongue and a bad habit of making me blush.
He’s something else. Something ancient. Something that could be mine. Dragons don’t take interest in women for more than a single night, a way to slake their lust. No. When a dragon becomes obsessed, there is only one reason. They have found their mate.
But that can’t be true... Or I would have felt the mate bond as well.