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It's Not As Bad As It Looks

Author: Bee Lynx
last update Last Updated: 2025-07-25 18:21:21
I jolt awake with a sharp gasp and heart thudding. My eyes pop open to the ceiling. The pounding headache from earlier is completely gone, like it packed up and left without so much as a goodbye.

Wait—didn't I fall? Or did the fall fix it? I can’t even remember anything. Either way, I’m alive, which is more than I expected.

Groaning, I crawl out of bed, limbs heavy like I’ve been run over by the 142 bus. I grab the bottle of water on my nightstand and down it, thinking, Cameron looked so hot last night. My eyes flick to the clock next to my lamp.

11am.

I choke, nearly spitting water all over the duvet.

“What the..!”

How? Since when? Where the hell did the entire morning go?

I blink around the room, finally registering where I am. On my bed. In my bedroom. Wearing my green pyjamas—the very ones I bought with Evelyn during that mad shopping spree where she forced me to try on fifty shades of ridiculous. I reach for my neck out of habit, and I freeze.

It’s not there. My ne
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Nightstar
oh no! who has the necklace
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    (Cameron’s POV) Christ, my head’s a bloody mess. I can’t believe I shagged Evelyn while picturing Charlotte beneath me. What the fuck was that? Was I that pent up, that desperate for her? The guilt's killing me, but underneath it all I still feel the raw burn of lust for Charlotte. Her scent’s lodged at the back of my throat, and clawing at it. I stand there with my fingers clenched round a can of juice, as I stare blankly at the vending machine. My mind’s a whirlpool of thoughts, dragging me through every disaster of the last few days. First, it was Jupiter, then Carlstone. And now Ogothr’s vanished. They were responsible for the serial murders everywhere, which was according to plan. And someone's out there neutralising them, undoing every move we've made. But who on earth could it be? Who's even strong enough to oppose us, when we've got a number of powerful Dragons at our side? Fuck, they just had to make work harder for me, since I was supposed to be in charge of elimina

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  • Charlotte: Fated to the White Dragon   The Stranger At The Ball

    "Shhh, it’s dangerous here, Druiss," Alan whispers, his voice is ragged, like he's been screaming nonstop. For a moment, I see him as he was when we first met: his nonchalant and dull self. But now, he’s frail, fading, as if the darkness itself is leeching the life out of him.Then the black all around us begins to thin slowly, pulling back like smoke blown off by a gentle breeze. New sounds creep into my ears. I hear low whimperings, muffled cries and I catch choked breaths, coughs so dry they scrape my insides. And this intense heat prickles against my skin, crawling up my arms and neck until I can barely breathe. I curl into myself.The space shapes itself before me as I glance around to get the view. It's an enormous metal cage, stretching higher than I thought a ceiling could go in all my twenty-six years. The roof’s a jungle of rusted bars and chains and some weird objects hanging above, thick as tree trunks, all locked down tight. And there’s more, something invisible, like

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    "Give me a sec," I mutter, slipping away from the laughter and daft banter spilling through the empty coffeehouse. My steps echo faintly on the wooden floor as I follow Amelia into the kitchen. The hiss of steam from the coffee maker fills the air, and she’s got her back to me, fiddling with the machine like it’s suddenly become the most important thing in the world. "What’s up?" I ask, leaning against the counter. She doesn’t so much as glance over her shoulder. Her hands keep moving steadily, but there’s something stiff in the set of her posture that knots my stomach. "Are you... mad at me or somethin'?" Amelia finally lifts her head, letting out a long sigh that sounds heavier than it should. She turns slowly, her eyes locked on mine, and her voice comes out in a hushed tone. "Charlie, I’m not mad at you for bailing when the place was rammed... and then just rockin’ up on some random day like nothin’s happened." Yep, she’s fumin’. "Okay," I breathe out, guilt prickl

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    (Charlotte’s POV) I'm sitting stiff in the passenger seat, with my arms folded, as I stare at the blur of buildings and traffic sliding past the window. Damon’s got both hands on the wheel, his jaw is locked, and his eyes are fixed dead ahead on the road, like I’m not even here. We’ve not said a single word to each other since Evelyn clocked us in the hospital, arm in arm and lost in our breaths. I tried to explain to her that it was Damon who came at me. I also tried to apologise even if she didn't believe me. But I'll be honest, there's no one in her shoes who wouldn't be fuming at the sight of their best friend and their crush making out. I sigh deeply, burying my face in my hands as I realize I might be losing my best friend again. Worse off, Damon doesn't even care. He just never does. Still… it’s not just Evelyn's look that’s haunting me, but it’s the way it felt as her blue eyes tore through mine with that hurt expression on her face. Like she saw straight through me. Like

  • Charlotte: Fated to the White Dragon   One Bad Turn

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