Page 14 of Wanted: A Roommate Who Isn't Evil

Oblivious fairies swished into the space where they’d been, carrying on with their evening. Past them, Dranian could see thegirl was still looking at him. Her gaze remained steady, even as the sight of her was broken up by those who passed. Dranian could not help but stare back.

She smiled.

Sky deities… His faeborn heart flipped inside of him. Her smile was amused—in a comradery sort of way. It made him want to laugh for a reason he couldn’t fathom. He thought himself incapable of ever mustering such an emotion or expression, but then…

“What are you smiling at like a fool?”

Dranian’s gaze snapped over to his eldest sister, Loriah. Loriah’s auburn hair was braided thrice over; tiny knots woven into bigger braids, and one big braid to hold them all. Her pale green eyes took him in with suspicion. “I’ve never seen you smile in my faeborn life,” she added, glancing over her shoulder in the direction he’d been staring.

Dranian flinched, but when he looked to where the girl with no name had been standing, he found she was gone.

Loriah released a low snarl. “Be careful, Dranian. You know we hate it when you makescenes,” she said, looking him over in disgust. As she left him there, she muttered, “I wish you hadn’t come here. You’re embarrassing.”

That was all the invitation Dranian needed to leave. He swallowed, attempting to let Loriah’s words roll off him before they found purchase on his soul. But when he lookedaround and saw his elder brothers and sisters milling about, carrying pleasant conversations and laughing together, sharing a joy he was not allowed to have, he turned for the arch of branches that would take him out to the evening air, and he headed for the green lagoon.

He stomped over branches and twigs, kicking aside rocks until he got there. He wasn’t angry. At least, he wasn’t angry at his family. He was angry at himself.

Why had he been born as such a shameful being? Why did he lack the ability to control his illness? Why must he be the one to carry this weight on his shoulders? The sky deities had dealt him the cruellest of cards.

He tore off his shirt even before he reached the lagoon dock. The dark green, crystal waters beckoned him to come cool off.

A voice met him instead.

“The moonbugs are out tonight. You’ll get eaten alive if you swim right now.”

Dranian spun, his hand flashing to his back pocket where a half-spear should have been. He was startled to realize he recognized the voice. At least, his mind did, even if his ears did not.

There stood the girl with no name, her face glistening silver in the moonlight, her white dress fluttering in the nighttime breeze. His half-spear was in her hand.

Dranian’s shoulders relaxed.

“You’re not dangerous,” he said—finding the ability to speak like he hadn’t earlier. He looked her over with fresh eyes, the way he had at the river when he’d seen her features up close. “You’rejust a girl.”

She laughed, and Dranian bit back another smile. He even chuckled—but it sounded strange coming from his mouth. He didn’t know how to laugh.

“You’re too trusting,” she said. “The village is right about me. I am dangerous.”

Dranian’s smile fell.

“But not to you, Dranian Evelry. In fact, I’d like to protect you,” she said.

“Protect me?” He raised a brow. “From whom?” He took an involuntary step backward.

“From all of them,” she said, nodding back to the village. “I don’t know how I’ll do it,” she admitted, lifting her hands to study them. “I’m not strong like you. I’m not big or solid or able to fight. But I’ll figure that part out.”

He almost laughed again. “Why do I need protecting?”

She sighed. “I’ve been here the whole time, Dranian,” she said, speaking his name like they were old friends. “I was always there, even when no one saw me.”

Dranian felt the blood drain from his face. He wasn’t sure why he assumed no one would remember the things that had happened. The mocking shouts, the heartless, faeborn males and their swatting and hitting and kicking, the way the onlookers all laughed as he seized up.

“I was just a few years old then,” he said from a dry throat. “It’s been a while since any fool of the village hastried to raise a hand against me.”

“Because you got strong,” she said. “But it doesn’t mean they don’t want to. Just because you stay out of sight now doesn’t mean one day you won’t be put back into their path; and what if they or your family decides to rid the village of you?”

Dranian set his jaw. “Don’t speak of my family.”

A breeze came in off the lagoon, pushing the girl’s black hair back off her shoulders. A second or two passed during which Dranian loathed himself. Because he knew it was obvious. And pathetic.

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