Misery’s Play
The tension in the air was thick enough to cut as Adrian stormed down the corridors of the academy, Misery’s sharp words still ringing in his ears. The courtyard encounter with Lyra had left him more frustrated than ever, but Misery’s sudden interest in offering advice added another layer of unease.
“You’re too close to this,” Misery had said, stepping into his path with the grace of a predator.
Adrian had stopped, his irritation barely masked. “And why do you care?”
Her response had been maddeningly vague: “Because I see things you don’t. And what I see is that she’s not what she seems.”
Misery always had an angle, but her words mirrored Adrian’s own suspicions too closely for comfort.
Eryon, meanwhile, was growing increasingly wary of Misery’s attention. She seemed to appear wherever he was, her predatory gaze always fixed on him. It wasn’t just her sharp remarks that unsettled him—it was the way her presence seemed to strip away his composure, leaving his wolf restless beneath the surface.
“You’re fascinating, you know,” Misery said one afternoon, approaching him during a training session. Her tone was light, but her eyes were anything but.
“Not interested,” Eryon replied curtly, not even looking at her.
She chuckled, the sound low and dangerous. “Oh, but I am. And I think we both know why.”
Eryon tensed, gripping the hilt of his practice blade tightly. “What do you want, Misery?”
Her smile widened, and she stepped closer, her movements slow and deliberate. “You. Or rather, what you’re hiding.”
Eryon turned to face her fully, his amber eyes narrowing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Misery tilted her head, her gaze flicking over him like she was peeling back his layers. “You’re good at pretending,” she murmured, her voice almost admiring. “But not good enough.”
Before he could respond, she leaned in, her lips brushing his ear as she whispered, “I know how to keep your secret. But I’ll want something in return.”
Eryon’s wolf growled, but he forced it down, his jaw tightening as Misery pulled back, her smirk lingering like the ghost of a kiss.
