Chapter 29: Chapter 29

Liora’s POV

“Lesson two,” he said, turning fully toward me now. “Control your mouth. It’s even worse than your wings.”

I crossed my arms. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Maybe,” he said. “But at least, you’re learning.”

He stopped a few steps in front of me.

“Now,” he continued, “we’re working on lies today, remember?”

My shoulders tightened. “Unfortunately.”

“Good,” he said, practically ignoring my statement. “Then look at me.”

I did.

“Tell me something untrue,” he said.

I blinked. “What?”

Usually, it was the other way around. He said something, and I tried to figure out whether he was lying or not.

But this?

“Tell me something untrue,” he repeated.

“Anything,” he said. “Just lie to me.”

I guess I had to do this.

I thought for half a second.

“I… don’t find you annoying.” Lie. Everything he did annoyed me to my bones, mainly because they affected me more than they should.

His mouth twitched instantly.

“Come on,” he said. “That one was obvious.”

“Rude.”

“Your voice went softer,” he explained. “And you looked away.”

“So?” I raised a brow, like I didn’t know what he meant.

He explained either way.

“So liars protect themselves. You dropped your guard by accident.”

“Fine, let’s go again” I said as I tried to focus on actually looking like I was telling the truth.

He nodded at me, giving me a go ahead.

“I’m not embarrassed right now.” I said.

His eyes flicked to my ears.

Then my face.

He smiled, “Try harder.”

I exhaled sharply.

You’re impossible,” I muttered under my breath.

He didn’t argue. That, somehow, was worse.

Instead, Kysen tilted his head, studying me with that familiar look, like he’d just found a new angle of attack.

“Say something you actually mean,” he said.

“I do mean everything I say.” I argued. Lie.

“That,” he replied calmly, “is another lie.”

I bristled. “You don’t get to decide what I mean.”

“No,” he said. “But I can hear when you don’t mean something”

Silence stretched between us. The torches crackled.

“Try again,” he said quietly, breaking the silence. “Not for me. For you.”

I clenched my jaw. I hated that part of him. The part that didn’t push, but waited. Like he already knew I’d fill the space eventually. It was annoying how patient he was.

I decided to be honest instead of lie.

“I don’t like being watched,” I said.

His expression changed, as he studied me for barely a second.

“That’s true,” he said, and I almost groaned out loud.

I didn’t know why, but it felt like I lost.

“Again,” he said.

“I don’t trust easily.”

Another pause.

“Also true.” he said, barely using another second.

I crossed my arms tighter. “You’re enjoying this.”

A corner of his mouth lifted. “That’s also true”

I huffed.

“I don’t like that you see through me.” I blurted out, before I could stop myself.

His eyes held mine quietly.

“Then stop letting me,” he said, not judging whether it was true or not.

“I don’t know how.” I said, my mind slowly travelling away from our initial conversation.

He stepped closer, not trapping me this time. Just close enough that I had the choice to decide whether I wanted to move or not.

“Start by not pretending you don’t feel things,” he said. “You’re terrible at that.”

My throat tightened, and I looked away.

“I do not feel things”

“There,” he paused, “That’s the problem”

I bit my bottom lip.

Come on Liora. What is wrong with you?

“You're lying against your will” Vyrmoth suddenly said, and I inched my palm as I ignored him.

I was about to talk when Kysen beat me to it.

“That’s enough for today,” he said, and I finally looked at his face.

I couldn’t read anything. His face remained as emotionless as stone. All I knew was his previously playful demeanour had evaporated into thin air.

“We’ve barely done anything,” I stated, and I glanced at his throat as he swallowed.

Out of nowhere, I gained a confidence that even I did not see coming.

“You’re afraid of the subject of this conversation?”

He finally smiled, slowly.

“No,” he said. “I’m afraid the things I'll say will scare you off”

That single statement unsettled me more than the almost-kiss ever could.

“Scare me off?” I repeated slowly. “By saying what, exactly?”

His smile was still there, but it didn’t reach his eyes this time. “By saying too much.”

I frowned. “You talk too much already.”

“Not about this.”

“About what?” I asked, though my heart had already started to race.

He didn’t answer right away. His gaze dropped to the floor, then lifted back to mine like he was choosing every word carefully.

He almost looked… nervous.

“You keep pretending you don’t feel things,” he paused, his eyes still trained on mine, “Especially where I’m concerned.”

I opened my mouth to argue. Closed it again.

“That’s not-”

“It is,” he cut in gently. “And I let you. Because it’s easier that way.”

I swallowed.

“Easier for who?” I asked.

“For both of us.”

I laughed once, without humor. “You don’t get to decide what’s easier for me.”

“Maybe not,” he agreed. “But I get to decide what I risk.”

The air between us shifted. My eyes screamed that I wanted to hear exactly what he was hiding.

And he caved.

“You asked why I’d scare you off,” he said.

“It’s because the moment I stop treating this like a lesson, and start treating it like what it actually is to me…” he trailed off.

“What? What'll happen?” I whispered, my voice coming out more soft than I intended, as my heart thundered loudly in my chest, the sound nearly louder than my own breathing.

He took a step closer, but I didn't move a muscle.

“You might leave.”

My heart stuttered.

What? He's scared I'll leave him? He seemed so soft at that moment, and all I wanted to do was hug him.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he finished quietly.

I stared at him, completely dumbfounded.

The Kysen Dravon is afraid of something. And it has to do with me.

“So,” I finally said, slowly, “You want me to stop pretending, but you'll rather still pretend?”

A flicker of something crossed his face. Amusement, maybe?

“Something like that.” he said.

“You said you're treating this like a lesson, instead of what it actually is to you? What exactly is it to you then, if not lessons?” I asked, curiosity taking over.

What exactly did he think it was?

He hesitated.

Just long enough to matter.

Almost like he was considering whether it was worth it to answer me.

“That I don’t look at you like a student I'm training,” he finally said.

My breath caught.

“I don’t talk to you like one,” he added, “And I definitely don’t feel about you like one.”

The chamber suddenly felt too small.

“Kysen…” I was completely breathless and caught off guard.

“That’s it,” he said quietly. “That’s exactly what it is to me”