Page 68 of Shadebound
Zayden sat down beside me, shoulders tight with tension. His inked hands were clenched. A second later, Maya appearedat my side and slipped something into my palm—blue-tinted earplugs, smooth and shimmering like polished sea glass. I didn’t know what they were made of, but they looked strange enough to help.
She passed another pair to Zayden and gave me a wink before she lay on her bed, face first into the pillow. I enjoyed a good suffocation, but I doubted she was doing it for fun. More like survival.
I stuffed my earplugs in. The noise dulled slightly—less like it was clawing directly at my brain, more like it was being piped in from underwater. Still unbearable. Still awful. Just a step below agony.
Essentially, it was the same as a dinner when my extended family came to my home for a holiday. Especially my cousin Ichabod. I couldn’tstandhim. He was the worst sort of person. The vilest of men.
I lay back and stared at the fake sky in the window. Motionless clouds floated in circles. The same looped dusk-blue tone that had hovered since this morning greeted me. My jaw ached from tension. Ached from how hard I was trying to be normal and pretend things hadn’t suddenly become... almost bad for me.
Almost.
I wasn’t sure what time Zayden climbed into my bed and settled beside me. His presence was quiet. Just there. Either for his comfort or mine. I just knew I didn’t try to throw him to the ground.
At some point later, he reached for my arm and began tracing small, delicate shapes against my skin. Lines. Curves. Things I didn’t recognise but didn’t mind, just like his hand drawings. His touch was warm. Each motion slow and steady enough that in other situations it would have calmed me.
I wanted to say something kind to him. But I didn’t do kindness. So I simply settled for allowing him to exist in his current state and hoped it was enough.
The skinny dragon slumped forward at some point in the night, when time had ceased to mean anything. A second later, his cuff flared red and zapped him upright again. He jolted with a startled yell. Everyone else flinched, except me.
Except Alessandro.
Who just snarled and said, “Grow the fuck up, Viktor. You know better than to sleep.”
Viktor jumped back onto his bed, stiff as a board. He bowed his head, dark eyes lowering. “Sorry, Fiore.” He simpered. “I won’t do it again.”
I rolled onto my side, staring at the pair of them. Viktor seemed to tremble under the weight of Alessandro’s stare, and I wondered why. They were friends. Or friendly, at least. Alessandro was clearly the leader of their horde, but surely in a place like Mors, the only dragons here would have been powerful too?
Why was Viktor one moment away from pissing himself just from a single look?
Unfortunately, I couldn’t get the answer because Alessandro noticed me watching them and turned his hatred on like it had a switch.
Stop looking at me, Draconis.He signed. I presumed because talking was damn near impossible unless you shouted or were close together.
My hands raised lazily.Stop breathing, and I will.
His eyes flickered brighter, his magic flaring in a way that made me jealous.Of course you’d be into breath play, you fucked up little bitch.
I’m fucked up, but your mind went straight to sex? Sure thing, you horny lizard.I stuck my middle finger up at him,purely because I enjoyed watching how mad he got about it. A little because I didn’t have the energy to work out how to keep insulting him. It was exhausting.
Iwas exhausted.
His hands moved faster, snarl grew larger. Smoke drifted from his nostrils as his tenuous grasp on his temper got more fragile than his ego.I wouldn’t touch you.
Except when you pin me to the bed. Strangle me. Hold a knife to my throat. Or shove me.I turned my back on him, rolling to face something far more fun. Like the flickering glow of the candles on the walls, or Zayden.
An hour or so later, when my eyes throbbed harder than my head, from lack of blinking, Zayden tapped my arm and signed:How are you handling this?
It’s more tolerable than Varl’s class.I signed.I’ll just sleep longer tomorrow.
He shook his head.They repeat it. Usually three nights, but they skipped the first night because of the arena win.
Brilliant. Absolutely wonderfully brilliant.
And what’s the next initiation?I signed.I know there’s three.
He shrugged slightly.The third changes every time we have a new person in our dorm. No one knows until it happens.
My eyes landed on the hairline crack near the corner of the wall. It hadn’t moved—but it was wider somehow, like the dorm itself was splitting at the seams right alongside me. A trick of the shadows, maybe. Or maybe I was the one unravelling, piece by piece, and the wall was just honest enough to show it.
