A Glimmer of Trust
Eryon and Misery’s uneasy alliance began in secret, their interactions hidden beneath the layers of tension that already defined life at Nightshade Academy. They met in shadowy corners and quiet alcoves, each encounter carrying the weight of unspoken threats and fragile promises.
At first, Eryon found it nearly impossible to trust her. Misery was too sharp, too calculating, and far too comfortable with the dangerous power she wielded. But as the days passed, her actions surprised him.
One evening, as they stood in the dimly lit corridor near the library, Misery handed Eryon a small, intricately designed vial. The liquid inside shimmered faintly, a deep crimson that pulsed like a heartbeat.
“What is this?” Eryon asked, his amber eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“Protection,” Misery said, leaning casually against the stone wall. “The knights are coming, Eryon. This will mask your scent—temporarily.”
Eryon hesitated, his wolf pacing uneasily. “Why are you helping me?”
Misery’s smirk softened into something almost genuine. “Because, darling, I hate losing. And if you get caught, I lose too.”
Eryon studied her for a long moment before taking the vial. “Thanks,” he said gruffly, though the word felt foreign on his tongue when directed at her.
Their partnership wasn’t without its challenges. Misery’s sharp tongue and penchant for sarcasm often tested Eryon’s patience, while his guarded nature frustrated her to no end.
“You’re impossible, you know that?” she said one night as they worked together to decode a series of ancient runes in a hidden chamber beneath the academy.
Eryon didn’t look up from the parchment in front of him. “And yet here you are.”
Misery laughed softly, the sound surprisingly genuine. “Touché.”
Despite their constant sparring, there were moments when their defenses cracked, revealing glimpses of something deeper. One such moment came late one evening when Misery shared a fragment of her own truth.
“I wasn’t always like this,” she said quietly, her voice lacking its usual edge. “The King—he made me into what I am. I had no choice.”
Eryon glanced at her, startled by the vulnerability in her tone. “You still have a choice,” he said after a pause.
Misery met his gaze, her crimson eyes unreadable. “Do I?”
For a moment, the tension between them shifted, becoming something softer, almost fragile. But it didn’t last.
“Well,” Misery said, her smirk returning as she straightened. “Enough about me. Let’s focus on not getting you killed, shall we?”
Their late-night meetings continued, their partnership growing stronger as they learned to navigate each other’s complexities. Misery used her influence to deflect suspicion from Eryon, weaving lies and planting seeds of doubt among the academy’s elite. In return, Eryon taught her subtle tricks to avoid the King’s spies and decipher the academy’s many secrets.
Despite himself, Eryon found that he was beginning to trust her—or at least, he wanted to.
