Eryon’s Confession
The academy gardens were quiet, the blood moon’s crimson glow casting long shadows across the marble paths. Eryon stood beneath a twisted oak, his fists clenched as he waited for Misery. His wolf stirred restlessly, its instincts clashing with the weight of the secret he was about to share.
Misery appeared moments later, her movements graceful as she approached. She leaned casually against the tree, her crimson eyes gleaming with curiosity. “You’ve been acting weird all day,” she said, her tone light but probing. “Spit it out.”
Eryon hesitated, his amber eyes scanning the gardens for any sign of eavesdroppers. The blood moon made the air feel heavy, thick with an unspoken tension that mirrored his own. “I shouldn’t be telling you this,” he began, his voice low.
Misery’s smirk faded, her expression sharpening. “But you’re going to anyway,” she said, stepping closer. “Because I’ve been patient, Eryon, and you’re not exactly subtle.”
Taking a deep breath, Eryon finally met her gaze. “Seraphine has a plan to overthrow the King,” he said, his words deliberate. “It’s dangerous, and it depends on the blood moon.”
Misery blinked, her usual confidence replaced by genuine surprise. “You’re serious?” she asked, her tone unusually quiet.
Eryon nodded, his jaw tightening. “Completely. This isn’t just about us anymore—it’s about taking control before it’s too late.”
Misery’s eyes searched his, her sharp mind already piecing together the implications. “And what exactly is your role in all of this?”
Eryon hesitated. “It’s complicated,” he admitted. “But if we succeed, the King won’t be able to control the realm anymore. Things could change—for everyone.”
Misery studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, to his surprise, she stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Then count me in,” she said. “Someone’s got to keep you alive.”
Eryon blinked, caught off guard by her sudden resolve. “You’re serious?”
Misery smirked, but it lacked her usual bite. “Don’t get used to it, darling. I’m doing this for me as much as for you.”
As she turned to leave, Eryon felt a flicker of something he couldn’t quite name—relief, gratitude, and perhaps a spark of trust.
