Chapter 14

"Tobias Dracul."

Caesar's booming voice snapped me from my obsessive thoughts. I'd subdued my partner, a volatile hound named Jackson, several minutes before; I hadn't lost to another student in almost a year, and it was getting boring.

Thanks to that, I practically had a front-row seat to watch Arya's spar with Ken Doll. If you could even call it that. Sparring didn't require that much…contact, at least not for that long.

I hated that I cared, that it was making my blood boil like fresh magma. I hadn't noticed I was growling until James called me out on it.

I cracked my neck to dismiss the infuriating images and turned my attention to the school director.

Caesar seemed to be hiding a smile as he held a hand toward me. "Show everyone how it"s done."

I nodded, switching to autopilot as I walked to the center of the large mat. The rest of the students gathered behind the safe zone. I noticed Arya and Kendall still stood close to each other, a little bit separated from the rest of the crowd, and I stifled the possessive rumble in my chest.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I ripped my gaze away from the canoodling pair and calculated whose turn it might be to face me and how much effort I'd need to put into the match.

It probably wasn't a day for fire manipulation unless I was pitted against Niko again, but we'd been paired last week, so I doubted it. Although, I might make an exception for Kendall. How I'd love the excuse to roast him right now.

But the entire class joined in a collective chuckle as I stood alone on the mat.

I looked at Caesar, who was fighting a smirk.

I uncrossed my arms, looking back at the crowd of my classmates with a questioning scowl. Why wasn't he calling another student?I found Niko and Brett near the front. Brett pointed at Caesar with a wide grin.

My thick hair lifted in a breeze, and I instantly sparked my fingertips. Gryphons could manipulate air. I snapped my head to Caesar.

"There he is," Caesar said quietly, causing anyone within hearing distance to laugh out loud. How did I miss the purple glow of Caesar's eyes?

"I'm going up against you? Sir?"

A gust of wind pushed against the backs of my knees, forcing me into a kneeling position, and my fingers splayed on the mat to keep me from face planting.

Nursing my wounded pride, I silently cursed as my classmates skittered with laughter again. Caesar hated being called by any sort of title, and I had to be corrected more than most, thanks to my strict upbringing.

Caesar remained stoic as the laughter died down. "That's what I meant when I said: Let's show them how it's done."

I pushed myself off the floor and took my stance without another word.

Fire it is, then.

How the gryphon managed to create a whirlwind that forced me to bend my knees and brace myself—yet didn't lift a single strand of hair from the students in the front row—always amazed me. But I couldn't think about it. I clapped my hands to conjure a bright fireball in each, even as my eyes watered from the gusts.

With a flick of my wrists, I urged the fire orbs to grow four times in size within a matter of seconds, or else be extinguished by the increasing winds.

My foot slipped, and with the same motion, I hurled the fireball from my right hand—not directly at Caesar—but into the path of the funnel heading toward the director. Most thought it was my dragon nature that helped me win my fights. Or that I was a Dracul. I let them assume both of those reasons, but I knew it was my analytical calculations that actually gave me the upper hand.

Caesar quickly ducked, avoiding getting a face-full of fire, but I smiled at seeing the tiny red glow on the tips of his dark brown hair before the sparks extinguished.

With a smirk, I managed a quick glance at the crowd before hurling my other fireball at a different point in the funnel to knock into the back of Caesar's knees. I hoped for a similar result, and maybe even a face plant, as payback for Caesar's cheap shot moments ago. But I couldn't help my eyes being drawn to the location of Arya and Kendall, whose hand was brushing a dark lock of hair from her pretty face.

Thanks to the minor distraction, I released my projectile a fraction of a second too late. It hit the gust inches off and was flung away from the orbit around Caesar and into the ceiling tiles, incinerating several of them.

Before I could recover, the gust sent me flying, and I was flat on my back with one of the up-ended treadmills inches from my nose before Caesar put it safely back in its place. His eyes shifted from their brilliant purple glow, darkening until they were back to their hazel color.

The mood in the room shifted, and the room quieted. No one expected me to beat an experienced gryphon, not to mention the defense teacher and director of the school, but they still seemed surprised. Honestly, if any student stood a chance at beating Caesar in a fight, it was General Dracul's son.

The crowd dispersed and began to exit. Caesar helped me to my feet but didn't say a word, allowing me to maintain my dignity as I rejoined my friends, who waited near the door.

"You almost had him!" Niko clapped a hand on my shoulder.

"Yeah, I don't know what your plan was with that second one," Brett said as we walked from the room. "But man! Using Caesar's wind against him was freaking brilliant! If he hadn't ducked, he would've needed a new face!"

Even Niko laughed at that and ran a hand over the back of his neck. "What happened with that second one?"

I shrugged. I wasn't going to admit where my focus had been, not even to myself. "I miscalculated. I was trying to hit the back of Caesar's knees."

"Ah!" Brett said. "Payback. Genius."

"That would've been pretty epic," Niko agreed.

"Next time," I said, ready for the subject to be dropped.

"Hey, there's a party this weekend," Niko said, granting my wish. "It's at Jackson's house off campus."

"The Hound?"

"Yep," Brett said. "And we're going."

I didn't answer but figured I wouldn't have much choice in the matter. They always dragged me to social functions.

I made an excuse about homework—which wasn't really an excuse, Brett just always thought it was—and made my way back to my room.

Partway through my Calculus homework, an email chimed on my laptop.

It was from Arthur. A reminder of just how "imperative it is" that I "befriend the mermaid."

I rolled my eyes before closing my computer. I wasn't finished with my homework, but I was finished with the email. Though Arthur had worded it like a request, a favor I would be doing by continuing with this task, I knew it wasn't.

My instinct told me to push back, to rebel, and do the opposite of what my father wanted. But I cared for my family. I was proud to be a Dracul despite the curse that came with it. And I'd pretty much decided to do it anyway. Not that I could stay away from Arya if I tried. Or stop thinking about her.

And besides, with Arya cozying up to Ken Doll, surely there wasn't any harm in me being Arya's friend. If she was interested in one of her own kind—as she should be—I could more easily guard my heart. And I was practiced enough that it wouldn't be an issue, anyway.

But could I really stand seeing the two of them together? When my insides burned like a raging inferno at the mere thought of it? Hell, just being around her made steam almost literally radiate from me.

It is imperative—Arthur used the word imperative to near annoyance—that we find out if she's the siren from the prophecy before anyone else. Those were Arthur's words that day in Caesar's office.

Step one: Befriend Arya. Check.

Step Two: Find out if she's the siren. Not quite sure how to go about that part yet.

I wasn't getting any more homework done anyway, so I pushed from my desk and gave into the obsessive, nagging urge to find her, telling myself I was just following orders. That was all it was. I walked with more determination and purpose than I had in a long time.

Dinner wasn't for another hour, but I checked the dining hall, hoping to catch Arya before everyone else began trickling in. Sure enough, she sat at one of the tables alone, with her laptop open and some notes sprawled.

At the sight of her, the gnawing ache in my gut finally ceased. The tether that had seemed to constantly pull me toward her since last night stopped tugging, and heat washed through me, a heat that was as soothing as it was destructive.

"Did they forget to put a desk in your room?" I asked as I approached.

She looked up at me, and pink bloomed on her cheeks. "Ashlyn was helping me sort through this Shifter Biology syllabus, but she had to run off to meet her dad."

I nodded. Mrs. Sharp's syllabus was famously complicated.

"I'm glad to hear I'm not your only friend," I said, sitting down across from her. I meant it earnestly, but her responding chuckle and eye roll told me she took it as a joke.

I realized that was probably a good thing.

Silence fell as I contemplated the best way to needle her for any clues that she might be the siren. Subtlety wasn't one of my strengths, and so little was known about the gifts of sirens that I didn't really know where to start.

She broke the silence first.

"Caesar was pretty rough on you today," she said, a note of sympathy hiking her voice at the end.

I bristled at the sore topic.

"Is he always like that?" she continued. Or maybe it was fear I heard.

"He won't call you up like that," I assured her, leaning forward and resting my elbows on the table with my fingers laced together. "He reserves his show-off moments for…" I trailed off, seeing her small smile.

"For show-offs like you?" she teased.

"Who says I'm a show-off?"

Did she see my quick spar in class? Sure, I'd barely given that hound a chance, but I assumed she was too preoccupied with her own spar.

"I'm not the one who thinks wrapping my arms around a girl is the best way to teach her defense." I didn't mean to say that out loud, and I shut her still-open laptop to distract from the heat rising up my neck.

She raised an eyebrow up into the black and blue hair that swept across her face. She didn't look mad at the way I'd invaded her space but rather challenged.

"Kendall was showing me how to escape if someone grabbed me from behind. Really, it was basic self-defense." She shrugged. "Like, human stuff."

"Yeah, well, as someone who just learned she's a shifter, you should probably be focusing on learning your shifter means of defense," I chided, my temperature continuing to escalate.

Her eyes narrowed, and she shrugged again as she slid her closed laptop closer to herself. "Honestly, it was kind of nice doing something I might've done in my old life."

"Well, learning how to get out of a hold like that won't save you from a vampire," I said flatly.

"You think I don't know that?" The volume of her voice rose, and suddenly, those bright blue eyes were blazing. "That's how my mom died!"

"And vampires aren't the only things out there," I continued, unable to stop. I realized that I was horrible for even bringing it up, but she had to know the seriousness of the danger. "There are rogue shifters out there, too. Weres that are running around because we haven't been able to track them down yet. Nagas who disagreed with the shifter military's policies and defected for their own self-righteous beliefs. My family has…" I hesitated.

Arya didn't know about my family history or even the fact that they were still considered royalty. She was the one girl who didn't treat me like a prince to be won, and I didn't want to spoil that just yet.

"There are dragon enemies out there also," I finished vaguely.

She nodded, narrowing her eyes even further, like she was scrutinizing me. Like she was determining whether or not I was telling the truth.

The temperature in my blood rose, and I clenched my fists to prevent any accidental fires from sparking. A woman's scrutiny had never made me feel this way. So vulnerable. So exposed. And so overwhelmingly turned on.

"Not to mention the hunters!" I blurted, trying to distract her—and myself—from the way she was making me feel. Her ignorance to the dangers was infuriating. "Sure, they're human, but you catch one mercury bullet and poof!" I made an explosion gesture with my hands.

"Are you trying to scare me?" she asked, her tone eerily calm.

"No, I—"

"I'm not going to pretend that what you said isn't real or doesn't matter," she interrupted. "I know it's real. My world was shattered by something I never thought existed until it happened. But it's a little overwhelming learning that I grow a tail when I touch salt water."

She laughed, but it sounded humorless and harsh.

"The first time I went under, I sprouted gills! It's just really overwhelming and Ken…" she paused. "It's nice that some people are helping me ease into this. And adjust."

She began packing her notes and computer into her bag with assertive, jerky movements.

Crap, she was leaving. I'd really pissed her off. I needed to control this situation.

"You know, the first time I conjured fire, I set my mother's favorite rug on fire," I said, making a conscious effort to soften my tone. I prayed it was enough to make her stay. I hadn't even found out anything useful yet.

And I honestly didn't want her to go.

She stood to leave.

I stood, too. "What I'm trying to say is that I get it. Figuring out your powers and where you fit in the shifter world can be overwhelming."

"You don't understand," she said and walked from the table.

"I know I don't understand." I rounded the table and chased after her. "I was born knowing what I was, but I still struggled. I can't imagine what you're going through. It terrified me the first time sparks flew through my fingers. My father had to disable the smoke alarm for about three months until I gained more control."

I was hoping to receive at least a smile but got only an annoyed frown.

She did stop walking to look at me, though.

"How did you finally get control?" she asked, eyeing me cautiously.

I should've known she'd ask, but I'd already opened up so much more than I'd intended that the question caught me off guard. "I–I learned to play the piano."

"The piano?" There was that skeptical look again.

"Yeah, I mean, the playing wasn't what taught me control," I amended. "Practice did that. But learning the piano was what finally calmed me enough to deal with all of the fear that was causing my powers to be so out of control."

That got a small smile from her.

And I realized I'd accidentally led the conversation to the perfect line of questioning. "Do you play?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"Do you… sing?" I tried to sound nonchalant about it but heard the emphasis in my voice.

"No, my musical talent is limited to Spotify playlists," she said. "I'll see you later, Tobias."

I didn't want her to leave. I'd upset her, and though she infuriated me for lots of reasons, I craved her company. Deep down, I knew this need wasn't just because of my family obligations, but there was no way I was going to dissect that—not any time soon. I just…needed to keep her from walking away—from this conversation—from me.

I scrambled to think of anything that would make her stay just a second longer. "There's a party this weekend," I blurted out.

That did it. She turned back to me with that eyebrow raised beneath that errant lock of blue hair that insisted on covering part of her forehead.

"It's at Jackson's house off campus. A were."

"I, uh—"

"You should come with me." I hadn't meant to add the with me part. But it was too late now. I braced myself for the rejection.

Surprise broke the frustrated frown and smoothed her pretty features.

"Okay," Arya said with a smile and a shrug, pushing that piece of hair behind her ear. "I'd love to come."

Then she turned and walked away.

And as I failed not to stare at her like a hungry wolf as she did, I internally cursed myself. I had just asked Arya Walker out on a date. What did I get myself into?