Page 34 of A Witch and Her Dragon
This is one of the reasons I wanted so badly to attend Coven Crest—not only to master my magic, but to get out of the castle and away from my life as a princess, to experience things the way others do, to learn who I am and what I can achieve when I put my mind to it.
And I suppose starting a fire is one of those small achievements.
As the tiny flame grows, creeping up the sides of the wood I so carefully stacked in the hearth, I push to my feet and turn to regard the room.
Raelan has never let me in here before, so it feels intimate being here now, especially without him.
The room is smaller than the dorm I share with Lyra, Maeve, and Poppy, but it’s no less comfortable. There’s a writing desk along the wall, and two armchairs hug a small side table, upon which sits a book and an empty teacup. A dark staircase leads to the loft, where I imagine Raelan’s bed is.
Heat floods my face and neck at the thought of Raelan lying in bed, eyes closed, chest rising and falling softly with each breath. Does he sleep shirtless, long arms and legs draped across the mattress? What does he dream of?
Does he ever dream of me?
I don’t know when exactly I started seeing Raelan differently, let alone wanting to press my mouth to his and feel his hand between my legs. At first, he was just a nuisance, an embarrassing burden I had to bear while trying topretendI’m just another normal student here. Perhaps it was after our conversation in the garden that day, when Raelan agreed to give me more space. Once I no longer felt suffocated by him, I started being able to see him clearly—like rising above a forest to see how far it extends in each direction.
My gaze flicks to the single window, over which a drape has been drawn. I move toward it, my slippers quiet on the stone floor, and push the drape aside to look out.
The storm has passed, leaving the sky beautifully clear but for a few thin, wispy clouds. The moon—a waxing gibbous, I believe, if I’m remembering my astronomy lessons correctly—is bright and beautiful, glowing cheerfully in the nighttime sky.
I scan the horizon for a shadow, for a dragon soaring in the far distance, but I see nothing. And slowly, worry starts to creep up on me.
Does Grandfather know about this? Was the chain around Raelan’s neck meant to control him, force him into subservience? Did I unknowingly release Raelan from servitude? And if so, will he even come back? Maybe he’s gone for good. Maybe he’s halfway across the continent by now. Maybe I’ll never—
The door clicks behind me, and I whirl around with a startled breath.
A figure stands in the doorway, shoulders limned in silver moonlight slipping in from the hallway.
And Raelan’s dark eyes meet mine from across the room.
Chapter 17
Alina
RAELAN PAUSES IN THE OPEN doorway, looking equal parts surprised and wary to see me standing there. He’s holding his torn clothing and boots in one arm, and the key to his room is clutched in his free hand, the metal glinting in the light. But he says nothing, offers nothing.
I suppose I’ll need to take the helm, then. Not like that’s atypical when it comes to having conversations with Raelan.
“H-hello,” I say, then feel immediately foolish for stumbling over such a simple word.
“Your Highness,” he says smoothly, seeming to remember himself as he straightens up and adjusts the bundle of fabric held in his arm. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk.”
He regards me coolly, betraying nothing.
“About what happened,” I clarify, as if I even need to explain.
Why is he making me so nervous all of a sudden? Apart from anger and frustration, I’ve never been uncomfortable around him, have never stumbled over my words or had to ask myself if I’ve actually forgotten how to breathe whenever his gaze lands on me.
I swallow hard and force myself to stand straighter. “But if you’d prefer I leave, I’ll—”
He closes the door with a resounding click.
And now we’re alone. In his room. With the door closed.
My eyes trace Raelan in the warm firelight. He’s wearing an odd pair of clothes that are clearly much too big on him, the tunic so wide and baggy it very nearly slips off one of his broad shoulders. I didn’t want to draw the girls’ attention to Raelan’s ruined clothing lying scattered about the courtyard when they found me in the rain, so I just left everything there, hoping someone else would clean them up and only briefly consider why they were there in the first place. I see now there was no need for concern; Raelan took care of it, the way he typically does.
He deposits his armful of clothing and boots onto the floor, then crosses his arms over his chest, gaze sharp as he regards me.
