2. Flint

2

FLINT

Thescent of aged wood and polishedmarblefills my nostrils as Istandin the grand entrancehallofNathaniel'smansion. My father and our host have retreated to some private study, their voices alowmurmur in the distance, discussing political matters that hold little interest to me, so I ducked out to see if I could get a better look at the girl with theviolethair.

I didn't expect to see her trying to make arunfor it. She's facing away from me, her hand on the ornate doorhandle, body tense and straight-backed as she hears my voice.

Slowly, she turns to face me, and I'm struck by the intensity of her blue eyes. They're wide withfearand something else—desperation, maybe? She looks like a cornered animal, ready to bolt at any moment.

The old-style whitedressshe wears hugs her curves in a way that makes my mouth go dry, and I have to remind myself to breathe.

Before I can say anything else, she dashes past me, herbarefeet silent on themarblefloor. Icatcha whiff of herscentas she passes—softand sweet, like violets, mixed with something darker, more primal. It's intoxicating and unlike anything I've encountered before.

For a moment, I'm rooted to the spot, torn between following her and respecting her obvious desire to be leftalone. But there's something about her, something that tugs at my instincts, not to mention my cock. She's either trouble or in trouble, but whichever it is, she has gripped my freezing coldSnowDragonsoul and claimed it with those sapphire eyes.

Unable to resist, Ifollowher lingeringscentto thelibrary, a vast room lined with shelves that stretch from floor toceiling.

She's at the far end of the room, frantically dusting the shelves with trembling hands. It's clear she's trying to appear busy, to pretend she wasn't just caught attempting toescape.

"I'm not going to hurt you,"I say, keeping my voicelowandcalm. I raise my hands, palms out, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. It's not easy when you're over six feet tall and aDragonShifter, but I do my best."You cantrustme."

She doesn't look convinced. Her eyes dart around the room, probably searching for anescaperoute. I take astepback, giving her more space.

"What are you doing here?"I ask, genuinely curious. This woman isclearlynot here of her own free will, and the thought makes something twist uncomfortably in my gut. Who is she? Why is she trying toescape?

As I wait for her reply, which doesn't come, Iforcemyself to tell her a bit about me. I'm a privatesortof creature, but this woman needs something to buildtrustupon, which is fair.

"I'mFlint, son of Glacier, leader of theSnowDragonshifters."She shrinks back, shock colouring her face. She hasclearlynever heard of Dragons outside of fairytales before. So that makes herhuman… or made herhuman. Dragons are very private about our affairs, with good reason. Our kind has lived in seclusion for centuries, hidden away in the highest, coldest reaches of the Scottish mountains. But I've always been different, always longed to see more of the worldbeyondour icy domain.

I'm on my way toMistHallowAcademy for thestartof the winter term, with a detour to meet one of my father's old acquaintances.Nathaniel. The name leaves a bad taste in my mouth, though I can't quite put my finger on why. There's something off about him, something that makes myDragoninstincts bristle, and faced with this mysterious woman who'sclearlytrying toescape, I'm even more certain that there's something sinister going on here. I take a moment to study her more closely.Despitethefearin her eyes, there's a strength there, too, a determination that I can't help but admire."I'm not withNathaniel, if that's what you're worried about. I'm just passing through on my way touniversity."I pause, wondering how much to reveal."MistHallowUniversity. Have you heard of it?"

Her eyes widen slightly at the mention ofMistHallow, and I file that reaction away for later consideration. Iruna hand through my blond hair, a nervous habit I've never been able to break."If you need help, I want to help you. But I can't do that if you won't talk to me. What's your name?"

As I speak, I can feel myDragonstirring beneath my skin, responding to the tension in the room. It wants to protect this woman, to whisk her away from whatever danger she's in. But I know I need to be careful. I don't fully understand the situation, and rushing in could make things worse.

"Please,"I say softly,"just tell me what's going on. Who are you? Why are you trying to leave?"

I wait, hoping she'lltrustme enough to open up. In the meantime, I extend my senses, listening for any sign ofNathanielor my father returning. The last thing I want is for them to interrupt this conversation.

The womanappearsto be having an internalstruggle. Her eyes keep darting between me and the door, as if weighing her options. I can almost see the gearsturningin her head, trying to decide if she cantrustme or not .

"I understand if you're hesitant totrustme,"I say, keeping my voice gentle."But I promise you, I'm not here to cause you any harm. I'm just a student, on my way tostartmy final year atuniversity. I don't know what's going on here, but I can see that you're scared. Please, let me help if I can."

As I speak, I'm acutelyawareof the ticking clock. My father andNathanielwon't be occupied forever. Whatever this woman decides to tell me, whatever course of action we choose to take, it needs to happen soon.

The silence stretches between us, thick with unspoken words and hidden truths. I can see the conflict in her eyes, the desire totrustwarring with the instinct for self-preservation. I know thatfeelingall too well. It's how I felt when I first left my mountain home, venturing into a world I didn't understand.

The woman takes a smallsteptowardsme, her movements cautious but deliberate."Why should Itrustyou?"she whispers."How do I know you're not working with him?"

Her question is fair, and I respect her for asking it.Trustis earned, not given freely, especially in situations like this. I consider my words carefully before responding.

"You're right to be cautious,"I say, nodding."You don't know me, and I don't know you or the full situation here. But I can tell you aren't happy, and that… affects me. "

I pause, watching her reaction to my last words. She's listening intently, her blue eyes neverleavingmine.

The air in thelibraryfeelscharged, as if thebooksaround us are holding their breath, too, waiting to see how this story will unfold.

Our story. I know she isn't some random creature that I've come across. There is something more profound here, and it runs soul deep. It's confusing and a little bit scary, but I know I would lay down my life for her without a single thought.

In this moment of tension, I'm acutelyawareof the contrasts in my life. The peaceful solitude of my mountain homeseemsa world away from this ornatelibrarywith its hidden dangers. The simplicity of my life among theSnowDragonsfeelslike a distant memory as Istandhere, embroiled in a mystery I don't yet understand.

But I know I'm where I'm meant to be, and that is here, in this moment, with her.

"Violet," she whispers suddenly. "My name is Violet."