Page 77 of First Ritual

“When I attacked your magic yesterday,” Wild said, “there was something there I couldn’t get past. A block. It didn’t taste right.”

Taste? I’d just pretend that wasn’t messed up for now. “Down my divination affinity?”

“Yes. What is it?”

“Just what you said. A block. Unimportant to figuring this out.”

He tapped a finger on the table, dark gaze never leaving my face. “I believe it’s important.”

“Why? So next time you attack me, you can get past the block? Maybe that was my defense.”

“Or the reason my magic attacked yours,” he countered.

This was getting overwhelming. In a big way.

I rubbed my temples. “I’m feeling… vulnerable. Can we look at Wild things, please?”

“Wild isn’t the unknown factor,” the ever-clinical Huxley answered. “We explored his magic and past prior to approaching you.”

“I’d like to stop for tonight.” My voice wavered.

Corentin scoffed. “That doesn’t get us anywhere. Why is there a block on your divination affinity?”

I gazed at the book spines without truly seeing the titles. “Because I wasn’t born with that affinity. I gained it along with the rust streak in my hair. When my entire family was murdered.” I turned to face Corentin. “Does that get you somewhere?”

19

I knocked on the half-opened door and peeked inside.

Bedwyr moved his eyes and blinked twice in what might have been a hello, his body otherwise unmoving.

I winced and entered, then stopped at the sight of another woman my age sitting at the foot of the bed. “Sorry. I’m interrupting. I can come back later.”

The woman smiled, though her eyes were giving me a big watch your step vibe. “I don’t mind company.”

Friend, family, or potential romance? Whatever the source of her coldness, her bad vibe was hers to own and hers to feel. I returned her smile and perched on the edge of Bedwyr’s bed.

He looked terrible. Kind of… like a person turned to rock. “So. I’d ask how you’re feeling, but…”

His body shook a little. With a few cracking sounds, he moved his lips. “Wild. Asshole.”

“You don’t need to convince me,” I said.

The door creaked, and Wild spoke, “You just call me an asshole, Tempest?”

I grimaced. Oops. “Sure did.”

He stopped by my shoulder—far too close—and peered down at Bedwyr. I tried to be subtle in moving away.

Wild ran a hand through his hair. “I have some apologizing to do. Can I ask for a moment with Bedwyr, ladies?”

“I’d like to watch you apologize,” I answered. “I’m not sure you have it in you.”

More cracking sounds as Bedwyr grinned. At least, that’s possibly what he was trying to do.

“Of course,” the other woman quipped, walking to the door. “I’ll come check on you tomorrow, Bed.”

Bed.

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