Misery’s Loyalty
The academy’s training grounds buzzed with activity, the clang of blades and bursts of magic echoing through the air. Eryon moved through his drills with deliberate precision, keeping his wolf suppressed while still maintaining the speed and strength expected of a top-tier vampire student.
From the edge of the field, Misery leaned against a pillar, her arms crossed as she watched him with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. Her crimson eyes tracked his every move, her smirk softening into something almost contemplative.
As Eryon finished his final maneuver, wiping the sweat from his brow, Misery approached. “You’re holding back,” she said casually, her tone teasing but her gaze sharp.
Eryon’s jaw tightened, his amber eyes narrowing as he turned to face her. “You’re imagining things,” he replied flatly, his voice lacking the warmth that once colored their banter.
Misery tilted her head, stepping closer. The usual smugness in her demeanor was replaced by something heavier—something serious. “Eryon,” she began, her voice low, “if you want this plan to work, you need me. So stop pretending you’ve got it all figured out.”
Eryon’s wolf stirred restlessly beneath his skin, but he forced himself to remain calm. “I didn’t ask for your help,” he said, his tone clipped.
Misery chuckled softly, her smile faint but genuine. “No, but you need it. And we both know I’m not going anywhere.” She stepped into his personal space, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “You don’t get to push me out now, wolf.”
Eryon stiffened, his wolf growling faintly in the back of his mind. Misery’s unwavering confidence and refusal to back down unsettled him more than he wanted to admit. But there was something in her tone—a sincerity that made him hesitate.
Misery leaned closer, her eyes locking onto his. “You’re stuck with me, darling. So let’s make sure we don’t screw this up.”
***
The twins stood in Seraphine’s chambers, the air thick with tension. Lyra’s fists were clenched at her sides, her silver eyes blazing with barely restrained fury. Eryon stood behind her, his stance rigid, his wolf bristling at the charged atmosphere.
“Why did you leave us?” Lyra demanded, her voice shaking with anger. “Why did you abandon us?”
