Chapter 7 7- Do Not Let Him Catch You Watching Him
LEXI
Blake finally looks up, REALLY looks up, and meets my eyes properly for the first time. I was right. His eyes are stunning. Like melted gold or sunlight caught in amber. They’re so bright I almost forget what I was going to say. He still looks confused. Deeply confused. Like he’s trying to solve an equation no one taught him how to do.
“I’m Blake Nyvas. Dragon Shifter.” He says it short and clipped, like he’s ripping off a bandage. His posture stiffens, and his gaze stays locked on my face, almost like he’s waiting, bracing for something. Fear? Disgust? Me bolting for the door? I don’t know.
“Okay, cool…” I say faintly. My brain stalls. I’m terrible at small talk. Truly awful. My conversational skills are on par with soggy toast. I have no idea what the hell you’re supposed to say to a stranger after they tell you they’re a dragon. ‘Nice scales?’ ‘What’s your favourite brand of coal for fires?’ ‘Do you shed?’ Probably not… Before I can think of something stupid to blurt out, Blake sighs and turns back to the desk, shoulders tense.
“You can change seats…” He mutters, not looking at me. Oh. Ouch.
“You… Want me to leave? Did I do something wrong?” I ask, baffled and a little horrified. My stomach twists. Did I offend him? I knew I should have rehearsed this conversation. Or at least thought two steps ahead before plonking myself down like some overeager golden retriever. Blake’s head snaps up. His expression shifts again, not angry, not dismissive. Just confused.
“What? No…” He says slowly.
“I’m just telling you that you can change seats. You don’t have to sit here if you don’t want to.” He says again. I stare.
“What? Why wouldn’t I want to sit here?” I question. He looks genuinely taken aback that I even asked.
“You know I’m a Dragon Shifter now. No one wants to sit with a Dragon Shifter.” He says, tone matter-of-fact. Oh. So THAT’S what he was waiting for. For me to realise what he is and run away screaming. That’s… Incredibly depressing.
“Well, I don’t want to sit at the front of the room.” I say plainly, shrugging.
“And I knew you were a Dragon Shifter before I came over here.” I add. He blinks at me. Once. Twice. Processing.
“You’re not…” He pauses, searching for the right word.
“…Worried… About sitting with me?” He asks. He sounds almost… Unsure. Hopeful even? I turn in my seat so I can look at him properly. His face is striking in a way that feels unfair, sharp angles, perfect symmetry, and yet he looks genuinely puzzled, like this is the first time someone hasn’t recoiled from him. Which is insane because I’m fairly sure that there are people who are much worse than him who are popular based on their pretty faces alone. So how is it that everyone dislikes HIM so much?
“Should I be?” I ask simply. He stares at me, golden eyes steady and intense.
“I won’t hurt you.” He says quietly, each word slow and deliberate, like he wants me to understand how serious he is. I believe every word of it. Something warm unfurls in my chest. I smile at him, soft, reassuring and sincere.
“Then there’s no reason for me to change seats.” I say firmly. For a heartbeat, he’s frozen. Then, he smiles. It is tiny, hesitant, almost fragile. But it is gorgeous. It lights up his whole face, softening everything sharp, revealing something beneath the brooding surface that I instantly want to see again. My heart melts into a puddle. Yep. Coming over here was definitely the right choice. Then I notice something else, everyone in the room is staring. Every single person. All eyes on us like they’re watching a tiger cuddle a bunny. Blake notices too. His smile fades as he follows my gaze. The instant his eyes meet theirs, the entire room snaps their attention elsewhere, heads down, books open, conversations forced. Like they weren’t just rudely watching every second. I blink. He doesn’t. I guess… Sometimes it really does pay to be scary.
The door at the front of the room slams open with a sharp bang, making me jump in my seat. A very short, very thin man strides in with the brisk confidence of someone who has absolutely no patience for nonsense. He looks to be in his late forties, wiry and sharp-eyed.
“I am Professor Harry Cage.” He announces, stopping at the front and sweeping the room with a piercing look.
“And I will be your teacher for this class.” He declares.
“He’s tiny.” Someone behind me whispers. A second later, the whisperer squeaks as Professor Cage’s gaze snaps to them. Small or not, this man radiates authority.
“We cover the rules of shifting.” He continues, not commenting on the whisperer.
“And work to improve our skills. As the year goes on, you will be split into smaller groups based on your Shifter type to learn more specific skills.” He explains. I swallow. Yep. This is where the ‘I don’t know what I am’ problem is going to come bite me.
“I am a Fox Shifter, but I am an expert on all types of Shifters and will strive to assist you all as best I can. If I am unable to help you, I will make sure to find someone who can.” He tells us. He seems to be straightforward, efficient and a little bit scary. Exactly what I expected from a magical school professor, honestly. The next hour and a half passes quickly. Professor Cage covers the basics topics he plans to introduce in the next few weeks. Shifter laws, safe-shifting rules, the difference between instinct and magic, the importance of control. Then a couple of brave students volunteer to demonstrate their shifts. A girl in the front row becomes a fluffy tan cat. A guy two rows over becomes a thick-furred brown bear, nothing huge, thankfully, or we’d all be crushed. It’s fascinating. Also mildly terrifying. At one-thirty sharp, Professor Cage snaps his fingers.
“Class dismissed.” He announces. The room fills with movement and chatter immediately. I turn toward Blake, and nearly jump at finding him looking directly at me. Not casually. Not accidentally. Watching me closely. I smile automatically.
“I have lunch now. What about you?” I ask.
“Same.” He tells me. His answers are so short. So controlled. It makes conversation feel like pulling teeth, but I refuse to let that stop me.
“Awesome. Want to get lunch together, then?” I say brightly. Blake’s head jerks back slightly, eyes widening. He looks… Shocked. Like I just invited him to jump off a cliff with me. He doesn’t respond right away, only stares like I’m a puzzle he can’t solve. My stomach twists.
“Unless you have other plans…” I add softly. He blinks, seeming to realise I’m waiting for an answer.
“Yes, I’ll eat with you.” He says quickly. Then, he smiles. It’s small. Almost careful. But it’s real. And wow. I mean WOW. It’s gorgeous.
“Great!” I say, grinning. Yes! I won’t be stuck eating alone. That is a definite win for me. I stand and head toward the front of the room, Blake trailing just one step behind me. As we reach the door, Professor Cage clears his throat sharply.
“Ahem. Miss…” He says. I freeze, realising he means me.
“Alexis Elle.” I supply.
“Yes. Miss Elle.” His expression is unreadable.
“Could you stay here a moment? I need to speak with you.” He asks. Oh no. This is absolutely about my mystery-shifter status. Or maybe I broke a rule already. Or maybe I’m being expelled before lunch. I sigh and turn to Blake… And nearly collide with his chest. I stopped too suddenly, and he’s far closer than I expected. I have to lean my head back just to see his face. He doesn’t move away. Not even an inch.
“Wait for me?” I ask quietly. He glances between me and Professor Cage, something unreadable flickering across his eyes. Then he nods once, slow and deliberate, and steps out into the hall.
“Miss Elle…” Professor Cage begins, folding his hands behind his back.
“You should move to a different seat next lesson. Don’t sit at the back of the class.” He instructs. I blink at him. That… Is not what I expected. Not even close. I thought he was going to ask about my shifter type, or my nonexistent instincts, or maybe he picked up on the fact that I am one hundred percent unprepared for any of this. But instead… He’s talking about where I sit? And why only me? There were at least five students seated in the back row. Including- Oh. OH! Blake. If Professor Cage is anything like the rest of the student body, then maybe this is about that. Maybe he doesn’t think I should sit near Blake at all. I decide to test the theory.
“Okay, sure, I’ll tell Blake too. We can sit closer to the front next class.” I say brightly, deliberately sounding clueless. Professor Cage rolls his eyes. Actually rolls his eyes. At me. Excuse you, sir.
“I mean you should move by yourself. Don’t sit with the Dragon.” He says bluntly. There it is. The warning everyone else thinks I need. The fear. The prejudice. My mouth falls open. Not because I’m surprised he thinks that, but because of how casually he says it. Like it’s a normal, sensible rule. As if it’s obvious I should stay away from someone just because of what he is. Which is just disgusting to hear from a professor. Something in me bristles. Not anger, exactly, just this sharp, cold twist in my stomach that feels suspiciously like stubborn indignation. I keep my expression neutral, but inside, my thoughts whirl. Blake hasn’t done anything wrong. He hasn’t threatened me. He hasn’t snarled or breathed fire or tried to eat anyone. He’s been nothing but quiet and polite. And this professor thinks I should avoid him because… Why? Because dragons are rare? Because they’re powerful? Because they don’t play nicely with others? It seems to me that no one plays nicely with HIM. Everyone tells me to stay away, but not one person has given me a decent reason why I should.