The waiting was unbearable.
I paced around the infirmary, my boots tapping against the stone floor in a steady, anxious rhythm. Every step echoed louder in the silence, like a heartbeat drumming in my ears. I kept stealing glances at Dragonir, hoping for even the slightest movement—a twitch of his fingers, a flutter of his eyelids, anything to show he was waking up. But he remained still, bandaged and broken, as if the world outside didn't exist.
Seraphina had taken her place again by his side, her hand resting lightly on the edge of his cot. She wasn't talking, wasn't moving, just sitting there like some silent sentinel, watching over him. I hated the way she seemed so calm, so composed, like she had everything under control. Meanwhile, my stomach was in knots, my mind racing with a million unanswered questions.
How had things gone so wrong? What had Dragonir been doing? And why hadn't he told me anything?
I wanted to scream, to demand answers from Seraphina, but I knew I wouldn't get them. Not now. Not when the most important person in the room was unconscious, and the air between us was thick with unspoken tension.
I paused near the window, looking out into the academy grounds. The students were going about their day, laughing, chatting, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. They didn't know what had happened to Dragonir. They didn't know that everything had changed.
But I knew. And the weight of it felt suffocating.
I clenched my fists at my sides, fighting the urge to shout, to do something. The helplessness gnawed at me, and I hated it. I wasn't used to standing on the sidelines. I wasn't used to being shut out.
"You don't have to stay, you know," Seraphina said suddenly, her voice breaking the silence. I turned sharply to face her, bristling at the way she said it—like I didn't belong here. Like I was intruding.
"I'm not leaving," I snapped, folding my arms over my chest. "He's my friend. I have just as much right to be here as you do."
Seraphina didn't react to my anger. She just glanced at me, her expression unreadable, and then turned back to Dragonir. "I didn't say you didn't," she murmured. "I just thought… you might want some air."
"I'm fine," I muttered, though I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince her or myself. I felt anything but fine.
There was a long pause, and for a moment, I wondered if she was going to say something else. But she didn't. She just sat there, quiet as ever, while I stood on the other side of the room, feeling like an outsider in my own story.
I couldn't take it anymore.
Pushing away from the window, I strode back toward them, my frustration bubbling over. "How long are we just supposed to sit here and wait? Isn't there something we can do? Get a healer? Get the dean? Anything?"
Seraphina looked up at me, her eyes calm but weary. "The healers have already done everything they can. Now it's up to him. We just have to give him time."
"Time?" I scoffed, my voice rising. "What if he doesn't have time? What if—what if he doesn't wake up?"
The words tasted bitter on my tongue, but I couldn't stop them. The fear I'd been pushing down, the fear that had been clawing at me since the moment I saw Dragonir's limp body, finally spilled out. I couldn't lose him. Not like this.
Seraphina's expression softened, and for a moment, I hated her for it. Hated the way she seemed to understand exactly what I was feeling, even though she had no right to.
"He'll wake up," she said softly, but there was a trace of doubt in her voice that made my chest tighten. "He's strong."
I shook my head, trying to push down the panic rising in my throat. "You don't know that. You don't know him like I do."
There it was again—that ugly, gnawing jealousy. It was irrational, I knew that, but I couldn't help it. Seraphina had swooped into Dragonir's life like a storm, and suddenly, it felt like she was more important to him than I ever was. She was the one he trusted. She was the one who had saved him.
And where did that leave me?
"I've known Dragonir my entire life," I said, my voice sharp, defensive. "I've always been there for him. Always. And now… now you're just taking over like I don't even matter."
Seraphina frowned, confusion flickering in her eyes. "That's not what I'm trying to do."
"Isn't it?" I snapped, my anger bubbling over. "Because it sure feels like it. You've been here for what, a few months? And now suddenly you're the one by his side, while I'm just… nothing."
The words came out harsher than I intended, but I didn't care. I needed her to understand, needed her to feel the same frustration, the same jealousy that had been gnawing at me for weeks.
Seraphina looked away, her fingers tightening around the edge of Dragonir's blanket. "It's not like that," she said quietly. "I didn't ask for any of this."
"Maybe you didn't ask for it," I shot back, "but you sure aren't doing anything to stop it."
Her eyes flickered back to mine, and for the first time, I saw something in them—guilt? Or maybe just resignation. I couldn't tell.
"I don't want to take your place," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "But right now, this isn't about us. It's about him."
I hated how reasonable she sounded, how she always seemed to stay so calm, even when I was falling apart. But she was right. As much as I wanted to argue, to scream at her, to make her understand how I felt, it wouldn't change anything. Dragonir was the one lying there, unconscious and vulnerable. And whether I liked it or not, we were both in this together.
For now, anyway.
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. There would be time to deal with Seraphina later. Right now, Dragonir was the only thing that mattered.
"Fine," I muttered, crossing my arms again. "But if he doesn't wake up soon, we're getting more help. I'm not going to just sit around and wait for something to happen."
Seraphina nodded, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she turned her attention back to Dragonir, her hand brushing lightly over his arm. I watched her, a pang of something sharp twisting in my chest.
I had been in love with him for so long. But now, seeing her beside him, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was losing him to her.
The worst part? I wasn't even sure he was mine to lose.
---
The hours dragged on. At some point, a healer came in to check on him, murmuring something about how his condition was stable, but they still didn't know when he would wake up. I barely heard the words, too focused on the steady rise and fall of his chest.
Every minute felt like an eternity, but I couldn't leave. I couldn't tear myself away from him, not until I saw his eyes open, heard his voice again.
And then, just as the sun was starting to dip behind the horizon, there was a shift. A twitch of his fingers.
I sat up straight, my heart hammering in my chest.
"Dragonir?"
His eyelids fluttered, and for a moment, I thought I had imagined it. But then, slowly, his eyes opened, unfocused and bleary, but open.
I felt like I could finally breathe again.
"Thank the gods," I whispered, relief flooding through me as I leaned over him. "You're okay. You're really okay."
But even as I spoke, I couldn't ignore the way Seraphina leaned in closer too, her hand still resting lightly on his arm.
And in that moment, I knew things would never be the same.