Chapter 57
Chapter fifty-seven
Annalise
“Iknow you said he’s in the infirmary. That’s why I’m not leaving this spot except when we fly,” Tyr growls, refusing to leave the space he's claimed between the castle and the Combat Arena.
Matt was gone for less than an hour last night, though it felt like I stared at that spot for days waiting for him to return.
After breaking into Lucas’s room to find him jerking off to an old photo of me, Matt let loose years of pent-up anger on him.
And while he wouldn’t tell me any other details, he did let me know he was interrupted before he could kill him, he isn’t in any danger of getting in trouble, and that Lucas would be spending at least a few days in the infirmary.
How those three things could be possible together, I’m not sure, but when he promised me, I had no choice but to trust him.
Tyr, on the other hand, has been stationed here since I left for formation this morning. He has gone full chameleon, posted here so he has a direct line of sight to the infirmary doors, should Lucas miraculously recover faster, and so he’ll be able to watch over me as I walk between classes.
“Fine. You won’t hear me complaining about getting to talk to you all day.”
“I really hope we never get stuck in a position where you are responsible for creating our strategy,” Tyr comments two seconds after Calderon bashes my tactical assault plan.
“Gee, thanks,” I groan. “And how did you know that anyway? There's no way you fit through the castle doors…Or can you make yourself smaller if you stay dragon shaped?” I ask, instantly imagining a shoulder-sized dragon.
“Still doesn't work like that,” he chuffs. “But now that we're so close, you're projecting every conversation you have to me.”
My stomach drops. Worry and panic hit at the same time, my thoughts taking a spectacular nosedive straight to memories I absolutely did not need my bonded dragon witnessing—late nights on campus, Aiden stretched out beneath me having…conversations…not meant for Tyr's ears.
“You’re still projecting,” Tyr adds dryly. “And I hadn’t known about any of that until you unfortunately just showed me. The bond was new back then, and I was farther away.”
“Oh my gods—oops. Sorry!” I hiss, mentally scrambling, shoving apology after apology through the bond along with frantic embarrassment and a very clear please unsee that.
Tyr’s amusement curls warm and smug against my thoughts. “Pay attention to your class, Little Faren. One day you may actually need to know this stuff.”
“I look like a pervy Pinocchio!” I half-laugh, half-panic yell to Tyr, who won’t stop laughing.
I’d be concerned he might light the glen on fire if I could focus on anything other than the too-big protrusion in the center of my face as I check my reflection in a hand mirror.
“You’re overthinking it,” he says, amusement curling through the bond.
“I look like I should be banned from playgrounds,” I cry out.
He doesn’t even try to stifle his emotions pouring through the bond.
“How can this make you happy? Tyr, this is almost as bad as last week.”
That earns a fresh wave of laughter from him.
Last week had been—memorable.
I’d gotten stuck with a five o’clock shadow and an Adam’s apple for hours.
Hours in which Matt had chosen to bring dinner to my room because of the “I’m not feeling well” text I’d sent the group as an excuse for skipping dinner.
There is nothing quite like trying to explain away surprise facial hair while your best friend stares at you.
Of course, he had laughed hysterically at me before promising never to tell.
Tyr was pretty pissed when I told him someone other than Major Halden and Captain Lin knew, but he bottled it up and took a flight. After he’d cooled off, he begrudgingly admitted that if anyone was going to find out, then he was happy it was Matt.
Right then, I accepted that I’m not in control enough for me to be practicing without Tyr’s supervision yet, so we’re back to him giving directions and me following them—though not nearly as quickly as he would like.
“Quit daydreaming and turn it back, or you’ll have to go to class like that and tell everyone you were spelled.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“I would. And you’re making the same mistake you did before. You need to focus.”
“I was focused,” I say.
“Not on the lesson, it seems,” he retorts, still not trying to hide his amusement.
“Tyr, please! I need your help!”
“Just relax, Faren. You’re overthinking it.”
“I can’t ‘just relax’. I have a giant penis protruding from the center of my face and formation in forty-five minutes!”
“Then you need to relax. Stop thinking about what your face looks like now and start focusing on what it normally looks like. It’s the same as every other part you’ve changed. Just think of what part you want to change, then imagine what you want it to look like.”
I do, and the magic inside me flutters. The pressure in my face shifts, my skin itches like it’s being poked and pulled on by invisible hands. There’s a light tug, then a warm ripple, and suddenly my face feels less heavy.
I crack one eye open and let out a breath. My nose is back where it belongs.
“See?” Tyr grins. “When you focus on what you should be focusing on, you’ll get the desired results.”
I glare at him. “You enjoyed that.”
“Oh, immensely,” he says, entirely unapologetic. “And you were able to morph faster this time.”