The soft glow of dawn spilled over my face, and birds sang their morning tunes outside the window. I blinked the world back into existence, feeling like I had dozed off only moments ago. It was not what I would call a restful night’s sleep. My arms stretched out to relieve the tension in my shoulders, only for my left hand to abruptly hit something solid. I turned to investigate and found myself nearly face to face with Ambrose Yarrow.
Last night came pouring back in. Soft lips, tangled tongues, his body pressed against mine on top of the bed. The thoughts alone had a pool of warmth building within me.
Maybe the experiment bore repeating.
That thought doused the flame of the memory. I wiped my now clammy palms on the sheet as I considered him. Auburn hair fell across his face. His eyes were still closed, granting me shelter from the sifting gold and green that seemed to track myevery movement. The lines of his sharp features were almost soft in the early sun’s light.
Wanting Ambrose was a problem. He still thought the magic connecting us caused the desire we’d expressed last night.I winced. Witheach remembrance, my head sank deeper into the pillow, and I wished the soft bed could swallow me whole.
Usually, I enjoyed explaining theories about magic. In this case, I couldn’t contemplate how embarrassing the clarification would be. How did I tell him that he was responsible for his own desire?Sorry, Ambrose, the blood magic isn’t responsible for the lust that overcame us last night. You’re just attracted to me, at least physically, and haven’t admitted it to yourself.
Not really the romantic gesture of my dreams.
Not that I wanted a romantic gesture. I didn’t. This was a physical attraction. No matter how considerate he had been in telling Gabriel of my research, or how caring he was with his siblings, or even the attention he paid to my magic use—the thoughtfulness he showed in teaching me basic Vesten tricks…
My body went rigid. I needed to get out of here. I turned to roll away and slip from the bed when I realized our fingers were linked beneath the pillow. The wall I’d built between us last night was still intact, but he’d captured my hand in sleep.
A soft sigh escaped my lips. It sounded more like longing than frustration. This was not good. When I pulled my fingers from his, my body felt cold in the morning’s chill. I grabbed a few of the cinnamon candies I had stuffed in my pack and left the room.
Space was what I needed.
I crept down the staircase. It might have been my mind playing tricks on me, but there were no creaks to speak of from the steps today. As I slipped out the front door and into the woods, more tension eased from my body. Only a few steps farther from the inn, a new tightness emerged, or returned—a constricting in my chest with each step I took away from Ambrose.
The forest pushed the discomfort too far. Was the presence of the feeling increasing? The tether between us was shortening, the impacts of separation escalating. Lord Arctos was right; our attempts to understand each other better didn’t appear to be working. I turned back to the inn’s porch. The last thing I wanted to do was wake Ambrose with the discomfort.
With a heavy sigh, I closed my eyes and sat with my legs dangling beneath the railing. My head fell back, and I leaned against the base of a small wooden table as I searched for my fire magic. There was an ember there, and I knew I could call the flame to my hand, but I couldn’t pull the more nuanced use Ambrose had taught me. I shivered and popped one of the cinnamon candies into my mouth. It took only a moment to suck the cinnamon away and find the heat at the center of the treat. The ember became a small flame.
It was easy, now, to push the heat to my limbs. As I did so, I took the chance to explore my magic—to get lost in it. It was no surprise that I found the connection I had tried to describe to Ambrose last night. My magic surrounded the spot. It felt like a physical thing beneath my breastbone. The more I explored it, the more I agreed with what I’d said last night. It was like a fiery rope that stretched between us.
With little thought, I sent my fire through it the same way I sent it to my fingers and toes to warm. It scorched a path across the connection, heading toward my target. The distance didn’t feel as far as it should have. I quickly approached what I knew to be the midpoint. Just as I began to explore … something … I found there, the midpoint became three-quarters of the distance between us. The rope length shortened, confounding my progress.
I had only seconds to feel the center point before I heard the familiar voice that set every hair on my body standing on end. “Everything alright, Evelyn?”
My eyes opened, and I looked up to find Ambrose straightening his shirt. He must have hurried from the room when I tested the connection. A slip of muscled abdomen disappeared as he shook the fabric. I had felt the shape of his frame last night, with his body pressed on top of mine, but this visual confirmation of sharp lines disappearing beneath… I jerked my gaze up to his face.
I wasn’t sure I had ever studied the shifting colors of golds and greens in any pair of hazel eyes as much as I studied Ambrose’s. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but I searched them for … something. Embarrassment at my blatant perusal? If anything, he looked a little smug. Anger from last night? I didn’t see it. Dread to spend another day traveling with me? He offered me a hesitant smile.
I clambered for something to say. “Morning. I didn’t wake you, did I?”
My veil cat dropped her head between her paws as if to say,Very smooth, Evelyn.
He shrugged. “What were you doing?”
“I wanted to test the physicality of our connection.” I cleared my throat. “What I described last night. I’m sorry if it disturbed you.”
He looked contemplative but waved off my concern. “Did you get breakfast?”
I shook my head.
“Want to grab something before we leave? We should start early so as not to arrive at Compass Lake too late in the day.” He offered me his hand to help me up. It was such an innocent gesture. I took it, even knowing I’d feel the spark between us crackle when we touched.
I put up a tough front, tried to convince myself I was immune, but I wasn’t sure I could avoid this fire.
When I reachedfor my veil cat after breakfast, I felt a shiver overtake me, but it wasn’t enough to summon the flame—to push the shift over the edge. With the aid of another cinnamon candy, the shift was as easy as taking a breath. Ambrose’s instruction had unlocked some door within me. My veil cat and I might not have been one, exactly, but we were aligned.
With this new level of control—even if it was assisted—my resentment of my veil cat lessened. I was still concerned about why a veil cat was my shifted form, but that wasn’t her fault. It was my father’s duty to explain. It also wasn’t my veil cat’s fault that she had been trying to tell me things I’d rather not understand about my feelings for Ambrose.
Thankfully, traveling as a veil cat and wolf meant that Ambrose and I didn’t have to converse. There was really nothing to say to him anyway. I was attracted to him—maybe more than attracted—and still didn’t want to deal with it. And he preferred to blame the magic connecting us for his physical pull to me.
