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I shift, adjusting to sit cross-legged on the bed as I frown at him. “Why?”
He shrugs, glancing away from me, and I understand instantly.
Folding my arms around myself, I wet my dry lips as I try to find the calmest words. “Just because the guys aren’t here doesn’t mean you have to change your routine. Certainly not for me. You can’t be by my side all of the time. I know that.”
“Yes, I can.” He shakes his head as he scoffs at me, making me sigh.
“You really don?—”
“I want to,” he interjects, cutting off my words and rendering me speechless.
Fuck.
He pushes up off the floor, hovering above me with the storm still swirling in his eyes as he grabs my chin, tilting my head back even farther. His lips crush against mine in the next breath, claiming me with the most blissfully perfect bruising kiss that ever existed.
It doesn’t last long enough. It never would have. All too soon, he’s releasing me and taking a step back.
“Get dressed, Shadow. I’m going to shower. Then we can figure out some food before seeing what shit show this day has in store for us.”
I nod, offering him a soft smile as he moves toward the bathroom. I instantly hate the distance between us. Watching every inch of him, I notice the cords in his neck are tight, his muscles bunched together more than usual.
“Brax, are you okay?” I call out. I don’t know what feels different, and I know we’re dealing with a lot of crap right now, but I feel like I’m missing something. He turns to look at me, his eyebrow raised in question, and I roll my eyes at him. “Apart from the obvious, of course.”
Fucker.
He sighs, hanging his head for a brief second as his eyelids fall closed. I wait. I don’t want to push him for answers that I don’t even know the question to. Thankfully, he takes a deep breath and tilts his head to look at me.
“My dreams took me to the Realm of Shadows again last night.”
Fuck. I hadn’t considered that it may have even been an option.
“They did?” I croak, wishing like hell I could do that too.
He nods, but he doesn’t seem happy. “I saw the house, my parents, the guys… all in the distance. I woke before I could get close enough.”
My academy-issued blazer sits perfectly on my shoulders, my skirt falling mid-thigh as I look every inch the excellent student while begrudging every step I take toward the main building. Zane’s shell is tucked in my backpack, on hand should anything come up, and my fingers are linked with Brax’s. His grip is deathly tight, but it fills me with the strength I didn’t know I needed.
As we take the pathway, more and more students join us, and one thing is for certain: there’s a new level of uncertainty looming over everyone. It’s solemn. Everyone’s movements are sluggish and paced, no one wanting to approach today just like any other.
Maybe it’s the anticipation of The Monarchy coming and Erikel’s preparation for it, but we know it won’t happen. Not now that Rhys is up to date. Nobody else knows that though, and I don’t plan on telling them. Not that we did the last time, either. Which reminds me to keep the golden warrior as far away from us as possible.
I still don’t see Leila as the double doors leading inside come into view and it stirs my gut. I hope everything was okay with her father last night.
The worry is paused when I see Professor Figgins hovering by the entrance. I stand taller, my pace quickening, and Brax keeps at my side, despite having no clue what I’m doing. The fact only makes my heart grow warmer for him. He’d follow me into the pits of Hell, just as I would him.
I’ve tried a few times since I got back from Ashdale to reach out to Ari, but it’s not working. I need to know why or come up with a plan to head out there to see him.
Her eyes lock on mine, her shoulders sagging with relief as she subtly nods us closer.
Before I reach her, my path is blocked by four men. The alternative uniform to my own immediately identifies them as Erikel’s students from the Shadowgrim Institute. If that didn’t, the sneers on their faces would solidify it.
I have no energy to deal with their bullshit on top of everything else today.
“It’s the little soul dancer,” one of them says, taking a step forward. It’s Ruben, I think. He seems to think he’s a leader among the rest of us, but he’s most definitely wrong. With my current head space being filled with fight or flight, I would love nothing more than to bring this asshole to his knees and put him in his place.
Brax’s hold on my hand tightens somehow, spiking my own annoyance even more. When I don’t instantly respond to Ruben, he takes a step forward, running his eyes over me from head to toe and back again. Brax inches forward, too, blocking me slightly from the fucker’s view, but I’m intrigued with what else he’s going to say. Right now, he’s fueling the rage burning so easily inside of me, and I want as many reasons as possible to beat his ass.
“Where are the rest of your fuckboys?” he asks, eyes drilling into mine as he tilts his head.
