Page 67 of A Witch and Her Dragon
A few students have turned toward us and are watching our exchange with unveiled curiosity. But I can’t bring myself to care. All I care about right now is finding Raelan and demanding he explain himself.
How could he do this?
“He is likely in the stables by now, if he hasn’t already departed.”
I’m walking before the last word has passed his lips. My boots tap out a sharp, angry rhythm on the stone floor as I sweep from the dining hall and into the corridor leading to the academy’s grand entrance. Immediately, Sir Callahan follows, his footsteps heavier than mine. He has no trouble catching up and falling into step behind me.
Though I’m not dressed for the crisp autumn weather and didn’t think to grab my cloak before leaving for the dining hall, I don’t hesitate to push through one of the big entrance doors and step out into the night.
The wind cuts right through my long-sleeved top and tailored vest, and it sends my skirt snapping around my ankles as I descend the stairs and start across the courtyard toward the stables. Braziers have been lit atop the stone wall encircling the academy, and they toss dim light across me as I move through the dancing shadows.
I’m halfway to the stables when two figures emerge—a man and a horse. Though they’re swathed in shadow, I can see the man is adjusting the saddle, preparing to swing up onto the horse’s back. This makes me pick up my pace. My boots crunch across the gravel, my breathing coming faster as my anger builds, and I’m near enough to see the cut of Raelan’s sharp profile when he finally turns and sees me.
“Howdareyou!” I say, storming up to him so quickly his horse shies to one side. I’ll apologize to her later, but my rage is bubbling over, incapable of being contained. “You were going to leave just like that? Without even sayinggoodbye? Do I truly mean so little to you?”
Raelan’s dark gaze flicks over my shoulder, to where I know Sir Callahan is standing. Let him overhear—I don’t care. All I want is to hear Raelan’s reasoning, his explanation for fleeing from me in the night.
Like the thief he is. Because he stole from me, stole my affection and my attention, then tossed them away like nothing.
“Sir Callahan,” Raelan says, moving to step around me. “Would you hold Penelope for a moment?” He transfers her reins into Sir Callahan’s outstretched fingers. Then Raelan turns to me. “Let’s speak inside. You’re not dressed for the cold.”
“What do you care how I’m dressed?” I snap, though I allow him to lead me to the stable. He pulls the big sliding door open just a crack, and we slip inside.
The air smells of horses and hay and sawdust, reminding me of home. It’s warmer inside, out of the wind, but I try not to let Raelan see what a comfort it is to me.
“Sir Ashvale,” the stablemaster says, popping his head out of one of the open stalls. “Is there something else I can do for you?”
“No.” Raelan holds up a hand. “Just need a moment to speak privately.”
The stablemaster’s gaze slides to me where I stand just behind Raelan, and his bushy silver brows rise with curiosity. “Certainly. You can use the office. It’s just through there.” He points, and Raelan nods his appreciation, then guides me toward the door and ushers me inside.
The office is small, lit by only a single candle. There’s a desk, a worn chair, and a couch that’s seen better days. Raelan closes the door, but it takes him a moment before he turns and faces me.
And when he does, his face is a mess of emotions I struggle to understand.
“You’re leaving?” I ask.
He nods once. “Yes.”
His confirmation nearly knocks the wind out of me. Even having seen him preparing to mount his horse and ride into the night, I was holding out hope that I’d somehow gotten it all wrong, that there’d been some misunderstanding.
“Why?”
His jaw flexes. “Because I need to leave. You’ll be better off with Sir Callahan... and away from me.”
My anger and sadness swirl into a maelstrom, and mist leaks into my eyes as snowflakes start to fall around me, pulled into existence by my magic. “So, what is it? You finally had a taste of me and then decided I’m not the right flavor?”
Another flicker of emotion crosses Raelan’s face, this one surprised and perhaps a bit hurt. “Of course not. Alina, that’s not what this is. You know why we must stop.”
“No,” I snap, “I know yourexcusefor why we must stop. But that’s not a real reason. I could speak with my grandfather. This ismychoice. It’s my body. I’ll do whatever I want with it. I choose the people I care for, no one else.”
Raelan takes a breath. His fingers curl into loose fists. “It’s not just about you. Have you taken even a moment to consider what this is doing to me? How excruciating it is to want you this way, knowing I can’t have you? Knowing I’m a danger to you?”
“You’re not a—”
“Iam!” He steps forward, close enough to me now that I can see his pupils are fluctuating between a thin line and a normal circle. “You saw my mother. And that wasnothing.” His hand comes up to cradle my face, warm despite having just been out in the autumn chill. “I could tear you into ribbons with one swipe of my claws. If this chain is ever to fail me when you’re near”—he lifts his chin so I can see the metal around his neck, the wounds that have almost healed just beneath the links—“I won’t be able to resist it again.”
My heart thumps. His hand is still on my cheek, and I don’t want him to pull away. I want to stay right here, in this moment, for just a little while longer.
