Page 99 of The Iron Flower

“What did you say?” I ask, mesmerized by him.

“I said...your eyes are lovely.”

“Oh,” I whisper, my cheeks flushing.

Yvan’s face takes a turn for the serious, and he lets out a long breath. He leans in toward me, his thumb gently tracing the back of mine. “We’re not doing a very good job of staying away from each other, are we?”

“No,” I agree, letting my head fall back onto his shoulder.

A tendril of his heat reaches out for me, and my breath tightens as the slender flame curls around my fire lines, a warm, decadent thrill flickering through me.

“What’s it like?” he asks me. “To have affinity lines?”

I force out an even breath. “It’s...like branching trees inside of me. If I concentrate on an affinity, I can feel that branching line. And I can pull on the power flowing through it.” I glance up at him, wondering what it would be like to pull on his fire while kissing him. “Your fire,” I ask him, flustered, “is it like a Mage line?”

“It’s not a line,” he says, an edge of bitterness curling his full lips. “It’severywherein me.”

Holy Ancient One.

I feel a sudden desire to send my fire magic straight out to him. To feel what’s inside him. A low warmth blooms in my center, and I struggle to hold it in check.

“You’ve five affinity lines?” he asks, curious.

“I have strong earth lines and fire lines,” I tell him. “I’m starting to have a sense of small air lines and water lines, too, but I can’t sense my light lines. Most Mages can’t—Light Mages are very rare.” I look to him, hesitant. “Can you sense my lines?”

“Only your fire lines,” he says.

“We’re similar in that,” I muse. “We both have a strong affinity for fire.”

“I know,” he says, his thumb gently stroking the back of my hand, a delicious heat trailing his touch.

“Strange, isn’t it?” I say, wanting him to trail that touch all over me.

His chin moves against my hair as he nods in agreement. I can feel the edge of his mouth lift into a smile.

I never want to move. I want to stay here with my hand in his and my head on his shoulder forever.

“Your brothers,” he says. “They told me that you wanted to make violins, before you decided to become an apothecary.”

I give a melancholy smile at this. “In a perfect world where a woman could join the Crafters’ Guilds?” I muse. “Maybe. Maybe I’d do both. And we’d be together.”

I turn my head to look up at him, the happy idea dispersing like smoke. “But we’re not likely to have the quiet life we both want, are we?”

Yvan lets out a short, grim sound, as if I don’t even know the half of it. “I’ll never have the life I want,” he says, his voice low and jaded. “There’s just nothing to be done about it. And the Mage Council would never tolerate Carnissa Gardner’s granddaughter being with someone who has Fae blood. And if anything ever happened to you...because of me...” His voice trails off, and he looks away, his hand rigid around mine, as if in defiance of the entire world.

But it can’t be ignored. Any kind of happy future for us...it can never be.Wecan never be. Our relationship would be a danger to ourselves and everyone we love.

So, I do the only thing I can do. I pull my head away from the refuge of his shoulder, let go of his hand and stand up.

“I need to get back,” I say self-consciously, motioning to the door of my lodging. “I’m behind in my studies, and they need my help with Ariel.”

Yvan nods stiffly and gets to his feet, standing there for a moment in awkward silence, the air between us charged with frustrated emotion. There’s so much to say that has to remain unsaid.

But it’s time for both of us to walk away.

* * *

Yvan is right.

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