Cool stone pressed against Cactus’s aching spine, offering a fleeting slice of relief. His fight with Winter had left him bruised, his muscles humming with a dull, throbbing heat. Winning that little duel against the arrogant IceWing prince felt good, but his body was paying the price. Darkness filled this deep, isolated pocket of the lower caverns. It was a place where the shadows felt thick enough to swallow a dragon whole. He liked it here. It was quiet, far away from the judging stares of the other students. Shit, his ribs ached. He let out a slow, raspy breath, closing his eyes. His mind drifted back to his past life, a blur of concrete streets, roaring engines, and a strange, aching loneliness that had followed him even into this new skin. He was an outsider here, a ghost in a dragon's body. Soft footsteps echoed from the narrow tunnel. They were light, almost weightless, tapping against the stone with a rhythmic, familiar grace. Cactus didn't open his eyes immediately. He knew that scent anywhere. It was a bizarre, intoxicating blend of warm sunlight, dusty parchment, and the clean, sharp smell of summer rain. Blindly, she navigated the pitch-black alcove. Sunny couldn't see him in this absolute darkness, her golden scales completely hidden by the heavy gloom. Yet, she walked without hesitation. "Cactus?" Her voice was a soft, melodious purr that cut through the silence. "Right here, princess," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. Guided by the sound, she shifted closer. Her small talon reached out, hovering in the dark until it brushed against his front leg. Warmth flooded his chest at the contact. She didn't pull away. Instead, her touch climbed higher, tracing the curve of his shoulder until her claws found the rough, jagged ridge of his scar. "This hurts," she whispered. Her touch was incredibly gentle, barely applying any pressure, yet it felt like a brand against his skin. "Yeah," Cactus admitted, his jaw tightening. "It does." "How did you get it?" she asked, her snout turning toward him in the dark. "Got caught in a bad spot," he lied smoothly, though his heart hammered a frantic rhythm against his ribs. "A reminder that I wasn't fast enough. A scar is just a ugly reminder of a mistake." Sunny shook her head, her snout brushing against his shoulder. "A scar isn't a failure." "What is it then?" he asked, genuinely curious. "Maps," she murmured, her talons tracing the irregular line of the damaged scales. "They're just maps of where you've been." Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Cactus swallowed hard, his heart hammering against his ribs. Nobody had ever looked at his wounds that way. To most dragons, a scar was a sign of weakness or a trophy of violence. To her, it was a story. Inhale. Exhale. He focused entirely on the scent of her, letting it wash over him. She smelled of endless summer afternoons, of old libraries filled with forgotten secrets, and of the sudden, clean shock of a thunderstorm. It was a scent that made him want to forget the concrete streets of his past and lose himself in the present. "You're too good for this place, Sunny," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "No, I'm not," she replied softly, her hand sliding down to rest over his racing heart. "I just see things differently." Her touch was electric, sending jolts of heat through his scales. He wanted to pull her closer, to wrap his wings around her and block out the rest of the world, but he held back. He was a creature of dust and secrets. She was pure light. "Sometimes," Cactus began, his voice barely a breath, "I feel like I'm looking at a world I don't belong in. Like I'm just playing a part in a play I never signed up for." Sunny shifted closer, her warm body pressing against his side. The contrast between her soft, radiating heat and the cold stone of the cavern was dizzying. "We all feel like that sometimes," she said. "But you're here now. You're real." Cactus let out a bitter, silent laugh. He wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to tell her about the glass towers, the glowing screens, the roar of highways, and the empty apartment where he had died alone. He wanted to tell her that his name wasn't Cactus, that he was a man trapped in a monster's armor. Instead, he just leaned his head down, letting his snout rest gently against her shoulder. The physical contact was an anchor, keeping him from drifting away into the dark sea of his memories. "You smell like rain," he murmured, closing his eyes. "And you smell like hot sand and pine needles," she whispered back, a small smile evident in her voice. "It's a good smell. It feels safe." Safe. Nobody had ever called him safe before. He was a street-fighter, a rogue, a hybrid with a smart mouth and a quick fist. But here, in the dark, with her hand on his chest, he felt a strange, terrifying sense of peace. Slowly, her talons moved from his scar to his cheek, tracing the sharp line of his jaw. Her touch was so light, so delicate, it made him ache with a hunger that had nothing to do with food. It was a hunger for connection, for someone to truly see him beneath the golden scales and the arrogant grin. "I can feel how fast your heart is beating," Sunny said softly. "That's because you're too close," he teased, though his voice lacked its usual sharp edge. "Or maybe it's because you're afraid," she suggested, her tone incredibly gentle. "I'm not afraid of anything," he lied. "You are," she insisted. "You're afraid of being known." Her words hit him like a physical blow. Cactus flinched slightly, but she didn't let go. Her touch remained firm, anchoring him to the spot. "You hide behind your jokes, Cactus. You hide behind your fights and your flirting," she continued, her voice a soft, relentless tide. "But you're hiding something else, too." Cactus held his breath. The darkness suddenly felt suffocating. He wanted to pull away, to run back to the surface where he could mask his fear with a smirk and a sarcastic comment. But her warmth held him captive. "I don't know what you're talking about, princess," he said, trying to force his usual casual tone, but it fell flat in the quiet cave. Sunny tilted her head, her blind eyes seeming to pierce right through the darkness, right through his skull. Sunny whispered, "You’re not from here, are you?" Cactus freezes. She knows.

Chapter 6: The Blind Truth