Page 7 of Our Radiant Embers

I didn’t say that. Of course he hadn’t been there—he rarely attended magical gatherings, sought his friends outside the community. They didn’t make him feel like he fell chronically short of expectations, was how he’d once explained it to me. When I’d asked if I ever made him feel that way, his answer had been, ‘Not intentionally.’ Which really meant yes.

Anyway, he hadn’t been there. But he’d helped me practice.

“Thank you,” I told him. “Just not quite good enough, I guess.”

“Or maybe the Morgans brought something new and unexpected to the table.”

“Well, yeah. Maybe.”

“Adam.” Gale stopped and faced me, his eyes serious. “You worked really hard. If our proposal wasn’t enough? Then that’s not you, that’s all of us.”

My brother was the best person I knew. If there’d been any justice in the world, he’d be the Nova and I a Spark—but then it might have shaped him into someone else. I didn’t think so, though.

“Thank you,” I repeated. When Gale reached out for a one-armed hug, I stupidly felt a bit like crying. It took a moment to steady my expression. As we stepped back, I shot him a smile and hoped it turned out convincing.

Toughen up, honey.

* * *

I returned from the shower to find a woman in my bed. Well—on my bed. It wasn’t the first time, so I kept towelling off my hair, fully naked as I walked past Cassandra to my wardrobe.

She whistled softly. “Don’t get lost in there, babe.”

“Funny.” I pulled on a T-shirt, then a pair of boxers, and turned to face her with a small grin that didn’t feel entirely fake. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello, darling,” she intoned with a haughty toss of her blonde hair. “You are the apple of my eye, the light of my life, and I truly couldn’t be happier to see you.”

“Yes to all of that,” I said with a dismissive flutter of my fingers. “Now what are you doing here?”

As my designated fiancée, Cassandra was cleared to come and go as she pleased, but I didn’t think we’d made any plans for the day. She sat up, tossing aside the magazine she’d been reading. Its cover promised the latest science on workouts for healthy muscle gain, and I fully expected her to share the highlights with me—whether I wanted them or not.

People often mistook her for cold, but they couldn’t be more wrong. She simply didn’t suffer fools, and since she tended to be the smartest person in the room at any given time, that included a lot of people. I was lucky she indulged me.

“Dad mentioned the joint venture,” she said lightly.

“Ah.” I swallowed. “That.”

Her eyes softened. “Yeah. Thought you might want to vent to someone about the hardship”—a delicate pause trailed the word—“of spending the next few months within easy reach of tall, smart, and handsome.”

“Tall, smart, and handsome?” I repeated, pulling up my jeans. “Last I checked, you called him—what was it?”

“A merchant of menace, conscience optional,” she supplied. “I may have misjudged him.”

Huh.

“Excuse me.” My voice was the epitome of politeness, hands out and palms up. “Did you just say you made a mistake?”

She arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “Honey, the ability to keep an open mind is the highest form of intelligence. I am reassessing my initial impression based on new information.”

I bit down on a smile. “All right. And what does this new information tell you?”

“First off, his pitch showed someone who wants to get away from a reputation as an arsenal artisan. Also, I asked around, and it seems the Morgans aren’t actually selling their worst inventions. They’ve been focusing on security and defence technology.”

“I could have told you that.” They’d snatched one deal from us, and I’d made sure it didn’t happen again—until now. Ugh.

“You’re biased,” she said primly.

“Whoa, hang on a sec.” I widened my eyes at her. “Just because I got off with him once?—”

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