Chapter 15: Nervous and presentable
Zaire POV
I'm nervous.
I stand in front of the cracked mirror in my dorm, the glass fractured in webbed lines that split my reflection into multiple jagged versions of myself.
I run a hand through my hair. It's still damp from the night air, clinging in curls to my forehead.
I don't have many clothes. Most are shredded. The few that survived have been soaking up the damp of this cursed place, where I left them last night. I manually dry a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt with the battered dryer in the corner.
I still can't believe it.
My mate.
I never thought I'd get one. Honestly, I figured the Moon Goddess forgot me a long time ago.
But then I met her.
Bright, soft, warm. A contrast to the cold rage that's lived in my bones for as long as I can remember. And for one night, it was quiet.
So when I woke up at dawn and saw her asleep beside me, curled up like something out of a dream, I shifted back, gently picked her up, and carried her to her bed.
I didn't even let myself look too long.
I just needed to leave before I ruined it.
Now, I want to look—presentable? Like I deserve to stand beside her.
It's almost laughable.
I only have one outfit left. Black jeans, slightly faded. A fitted black t-shirt that hugs my frame. It'll do.
The dryer rattles one last time, and I pull the clothes on. They're still a little damp, but it's better than before. I scrub my face with cold water and take the fastest shower of my life in a room where the tiles are cracked and the faucet squeals like it's dying.
But I'm clean.
Dressed.
Awake.
And headed straight for her.
*
Now that I've left my dorm room, I realize—damn it—I don't even know her name.
Not her full one. Not where she'd be. Not even a class schedule to go on.
Should I go back into the woods? What if she thinks I'm some weirdo stalking her through the forest?
I shove my hands deeper into my pockets and start walking the halls. The morning light bleeding in through the cracked glass windows does little to brighten this place. The walls are lined with old, faded portraits of alumni long dead or long forgotten. Most days I ignore it all—ignore everyone—but today, I force myself to listen.
It's mostly the usual Astral nonsense. Someone started a fire in the dorms. A vampire passed out after drinking spoiled blood. Someone saw a ghost near the east tower.
But then—
"Pink Witch."
That name stops me cold.
I slow my steps and tilt my head slightly to listen, trying to appear casual.
"Apparently yesterday she was seen with Ash in the front grounds."
"Which Ash?"
"What do you mean which Ash? The Ashton."
"You mean the half blood?"
"Yeah."
"But I thought she had a thing with the fae—Elion, the it-boy of the faes."
"That's the thing. Someone saw Elion with her in the morning."
"What?"
"I know, right? She's only been here a week."
"I heard she's spoiled, evil, all that—but I didn't know slut was one of them."
That last comment makes something snap in me.
I almost growl—almost—but manage to grit my teeth and keep walking.
I'm stunned by my own restraint.
Because how dare they? They don't know her. They don't know the warmth in her voice when she whispered to me in the dark. The way she stroked my fur like I wasn't something monstrous. Like I wasn't dangerous.
They have no idea.
My jaw is tight, my fists clenched in my pockets, but I keep walking. If I lash out now, it'll only make things worse—for both of us.
So… the vampire or the fae. If I want to find her, those are my best bets.
Great. Social interaction. My favorite.
But it's Friday. I have Botany. It's the only class I can stand—quiet, solitary, filled with life that doesn't talk back. The greenhouse is where I can think, breathe. Where the plants don't judge me, and no one expects me to speak.
Still…
Every step I take toward the greenhouse feels like I'm moving in the wrong direction.
Every step away from her feels heavier.
Like my wolf is dragging his claws in protest inside my chest.
But I keep going.