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Reborn To Save My Dragonkin Mate

Chapter 5 

Word Count: 847    |    Released on: Today at 10:42

na

ing lecture hall thirty min

ed only by the floating globes of witch-ligh

still clung to t

sat, marched straight down to the front of the amphitheater

ing behind her scarf, she stopped dead in her tracks

doing down here? This is the line of fire! Foster spits when she

enly, arranging my inkwell, quill, and pr

tered, but she took the seat to my left anyway

n, filling the b

stone walls, but every time the heavy oak

ed in the crimso

t, my lungs refusi

final be

eaked open o

nto the room, her dark c

n her wake, his head held r

stopped

heartbreaki

et filled out with the muscle he woul

arbones sharp against the threa

ded to a dull, washed-out greenish gray, the silve

r cracked at the toes where no wat

his clothes, there was nothi

s a column o

shadowing a face of striking, severe beauty-high cheekbones, a sharp

there wer

vertical pupils that cau

gon

on the fringes of the realm, feared for their destructive fire-mag

at the cente

own," she

replaced by a suffocat

lski of Abyssal House will be joining our pra

eyes swept acros

th, scanning the students as if asse

idn'

offer a po

owalski,"

n I remembered, cool, re

was

one cleared their throat

r rippled through the Avi

but she simply gestured to

alski. We are covering w

at the students w

climb the stairs toward the very last row-the broken, drafty corner under the back rafters wher

e my brain could ca

too

t the stone rang through the dead

ill suspended over h

, her hand shooting out to grab my

you doing?" she

d her co

le, placing myself dir

opped three

ned slightly, the first crack in

tensing as if bracing for a public humiliation f

the lump i

le, but I forced it to ring clear, loud enough

est, most genuine smile I possessed. "I'm Giana

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Reborn To Save My Dragonkin Mate
Reborn To Save My Dragonkin Mate
“I forced my destitute Dragonkin fiancé to sign a severance contract right before the Triad Tournament. I told him my future had no room for a disgraced boy whose family owed blood debts to dark alleys. But when a maddened dragon broke its chains and unleashed a wall of white-hot fire toward the student stands, he didn't run. He abandoned his chance at glory, vaulted the stone barricade, and threw his frail body directly over mine. I watched his flesh blister and his worn robes turn to ash as he shielded me from the inferno. His blood boiled as it dripped onto my face. "Run," he gasped in my ear, before the flames took him completely. For months, I obsessively relived his death in a Pensieve, suffocating in guilt in an empty house. I realized every milestone of my youth was paved with his blood and silent protection, while I had treated him like absolute garbage. Why did he sacrifice everything to save a woman who threw him away like trash? When the memory basin violently shattered from my grief, I opened my eyes to find myself sitting in my second-year magic classroom. Emmett walked in, looking heartbreakingly young, wearing his faded robes and a painfully guarded expression. This time, when the aristocratic students snickered and expected him to hide in the shadows, I stood up and blocked his path. "Sit with me," I told him, refusing to let go of his scarred wrist.”