How Not To Fall For A Dragon (Lexi and Blake) novel Chapter 125

Chapter 125 125- Do Not Buy Fireproof Pyjamas

LEXI

With the serious conversation out of the way, or at least… paused, Ellorie and I both seem to come to the same silent agreement. Wine. More wine. Because clearly, that is the most logical next step. I pick up my glass again, taking a slow sip this time, letting the warmth spread through me. The fire crackles softly nearby, the candles flicker, and for the first time all day, I feel like I can actually breathe without something heavy pressing down on my chest. It’s… nice. Comforting. And maybe that’s why I don’t question it at first. The way the wine never seems to run out. I frown slightly, glancing down at my glass. I definitely drank more than this. I’m sure of it. I swirl it gently, watching the liquid catch the firelight. Full. Again. I don’t remember it being full. I don’t remember it being refilled. I didn’t see Ellorie touch it. I didn’t see the Academy do anything. But somehow… Every time I take a sip, every time I set it down, every time I look away for even a second, it’s full again. I glance over at Ellorie. Her glass is the same.

“Okay..” I mutter under my breath.

“That’s a little suspicious.” I comment. The fire gives a soft whoosh, flaring slightly. I narrow my eyes at it.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” I ask the room. The flames flicker innocently. Which is not convincing. At all. But the thing is, I don’t actually FEEL that drunk. I pause, tilting my head slightly as I check in with myself. There’s a light buzz. A soft warmth. A slight looseness in my limbs. But that’s… it. That’s it. A few months ago, one glass of wine would have me feeling lightheaded and a little wobbly. Two would be pushing it. Three would be a mistake. Now? I’ve had… I don’t even know how many. And I feel… Mostly fine.

“Okay, that’s weird,” I say aloud. Ellorie hums something in response, which I don’t think is actually a word. I glance down at my glass again. It has to be because I shifted. That’s the only thing that’s changed. But… That doesn’t make sense either. In the medicinal magic textbook, it literally says that alcohol doesn’t affect shifters differently unless they’re actually in their shifted form. And I’m not. So either the textbook is wrong. Or I am. Or unicorns are just… different. Which, honestly, wouldn’t be surprising at this point. I suppose alcohol could be considered a type of drug or poison, maybe my nagic is trying to negate it? But I assume it can’t totally since I just keep adding more. I take another sip, considering it. I AM still feeling something. Just… not much. Not enough. Not what I expected.

“Huh. I guess I’m not a cheap drunk anymore.” I murmur. That thought is oddly disappointing. I liked being a cheap drunk. It was efficient. Economical. Now I’d probably need, like… ten glasses to get

properly tipsy. Maybe more.

“Maybe I should enter a drinking contest or something. I’d totally win.” I muse. I glance over at Ellorie and immediately snort. Okay. Correction. I would definitely win against Ellorie. She is very, very clearly losing whatever invisible contest she is currently participating in. She’s swaying slightly where she sits, her posture loose and relaxed, her cheeks flushed. There’s a constant stream of soft giggles escaping her like she’s just remembered something hilarious and can’t quite explain it. Also, she’s inching closer to the fireplace. Very slowly. But definitely moving. I watch her for a second. Then another.

“Ellorie…” I say cautiously.

“Mmm?” she hums, not looking at me,

“You are drifting toward the fire.” I comment. She pauses. Looks down. Looks at the fire. Then back at me.

“Oh… Huh.” she says, like this is brand new information. She doesn’t move. I sigh, reaching out to gently grab her arm and tug her back a few inches.

“Let’s not accidentally set you on fire,” I add.

“That seems like a bad outcome for the evening.” She agrees, then she giggles again. I shake my head, a small smile tugging at my lips despite everything Yeah. This, this is what I needed. Even if the Academy is apparently trying to wine me into emotional vulnerability. Or… whatever this is. At least one of us is having a great time. And the other one… Well. I’m getting there.

1/3

Chapter 125 125 Do Not Buy Fireproof Pyjamas

Okay. So Ellorie is drunk. Not just a little tipsy. Not just giggly and relaxed. She is absolutely wasted.

“I’m hungry,” she announces suddenly, pushing herself up to her feet with all the coordination of a newborn foal. She sways. A lot. Like… dangerously. I blink up at her, then laugh.

“Where are you going?” I ask, already reaching out in case she topples over.

“Dinner,” she says confidently, which would be more convincing if she wasn’t listing slightly to the left.

“It’s dinner time… I think. Ish?” She tells me. I glance at her, then down at myself. Then back at her.

“We’re wearing pyjamas,” I point out. She squints at me like I’ve said something deeply philosophical. Then shrugs.

“You worried people r‘ gonna stare?” she slurs.

“Hate t‘ break it to you, but they do that al’redy.” She informs me blatantly. I sigh. She does kind of have a point…

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