Page 34 of Elemental Affections

The news brought a stab of guilt. She’d known that breaking the engagement would garner some attention, but it had been over a month now. Ancient history so far as news in Central went, and Dae herself was far from high-profile. For Calya not to mention it, Dae didn’t know what to make of that.

“How are you, though?” Brint placed his hand on her arm.

“Fine,” Dae said, surprised by his focus. She indicated her report, using the motion as an excuse to free her arm from his touch. “I should get back to this.”

He ignored the hint. “Classes going all right? Not having trouble keeping up?” He gave her a conspiratorial look. “The workload here is something else compared to at Grae U, eh?”

Cold pricked her spine. “What are you—”

“Ana.” Brint’s head tilted, a beseeching smile on his lips. “I’m friends with some elementalists. It’s okay that you’re struggling.”

Brint knew about her poor grade? That he was checking up on her, that he had themeansto do so—somehow, it made her throat close up. Put an ugly tint over this school she’d already come to love. Her old life, Brint’s controlling nature and how he’d molded the course she was forced to take for years, everything she thought she’d escaped now chilled her with its presence.

“I’m fine,” she protested, hating that her voice came out weak.

“I understand. Nothing to be ashamed of, you’ve never studied magic.”

“Brint, I’m—”

“Are you sure you should be doing this, though? Working on someone else’s research? You’re not really qualified.” He softened the words with a placating hand gesture, a little shrug of his shoulders and that same damned ingratiating smile.

Signs she knew so well. They didn’t charm her, having lost their power so many years ago. But being repelled didn’t stop a sense of hopelessness from growing inside. Coming to Sylveren, Dae had thought she’d escaped. From the burden of her name, from Brint. And … what if he was right?

“If you need help, I’m always here. I can show you—”

“Anadae’s abilities thus far have met all of my qualifications for the job. And, should she require any guidance, she can come to me, seeing asI aman elementalist.”

Ezzyn stood in the connecting doorway.

Meandering down the hall toward his office, Ezzyn crumpled the letter from Garethe in his hand as he read. He sent—or rather, Anadae composed and he added a top note—weekly reports back home, and in none of them thus far had he indicated that a slower approach to battling the poison was a good idea. And yet.

Garethe seemed to think that revising their current methods and working on a “long-term solution” was the takeaway from Ezzyn’s research. Slowing down, seeking aid and a “diversity of fresh opinions.” It was an evergreen topic his brother championed, gussied up in a new arrangement of words. Not a new stance, from either of them, but frustrating all the same. Ezzyn could appreciate that Garethe, being an academic and nonmagical and more inclined toward diplomacy, viewed Rhell’s blight through a wider lens. Perhaps one could even call it more pragmatic, thinking in terms of management rather than a cure. After all, Ezzyn’s zeal in combatting the poison had thus far been a losing proposition.

Muttering under his breath, he balled the letter in his fist and stuffed it into his pocket. An argument for another day. Thinking more of it now would only foul his mood and infect his work for the afternoon. But pushing his brother’s latest news to the back of his mind freed space for other thoughts. Ones lurking in the back, always present, eager to jump to the forefront.

He’d been true to his word. Backed away from her, quiet and swift. Hadn’t done anything to so much as hint at any impropriety that might have occurred between them. Nothing had, strictly speaking. Ezzyn had consulted the handbook. The university might not approve of such power imbalance relations, but it wasn’t grounds for disciplinary action. He wasn’t even truly faculty, seeing as he was there to assist on Garethe’s behalf. As far as Anadae’s concern, the naked distrust on her face when she’d asked if he’d cause problems … it rankled. That she’d thought hemight.

Ezzyn knew it was rich of him to be disgruntled over Anadae questioning his honor, seeing as he’d … encouraged … their tryst under less-than-ideal circumstances. But she’d been a willing, if slightly underinformed, participant. It might’ve been a lie by omission, but he hadn’t spoken any outright falsities. She’d been understandably upset, and he’d walked away as he’d intended.

He hadn’t gone very far, in a figurative sense. The seminar was easier; the presence of others made treating her as any other student a simple ask. Perhaps he went further than that, all but ignoring her unless courtesy required otherwise.

Her position as his research assistant was another matter. He hadn’t expected her to keep the position, though in hindsight he acknowledged that her situation didn’t allow much choice. But having her so close multiple times a week drove him to distraction. Avoiding the lab only worked so much. Those damned notes. It was absurd how a few lines on paper could affect his mood. Brighten it. How they could occupy his thoughts. It took long hours and late nights burying himself in research to get his head back on straight.

A wave and her unguarded, smiling face was all it had taken to undo him. Even though it had only taken her a second to remember herself, even though she’d run from him, it didn’t matter. The privacy of his own mind didn’t let him fight back the memories any longer—set him awash in a hedonistic nightmare that had his cock semihard all fucking day.

The thought of her. The taste. The beautiful moment when she’d set her vulnerability aside, empowerment transcending. She’d chosen to have that night with him, too. Her idea of him. Ezzyn had made sure she enjoyed herself. And she’d asked him to stay, if only until morning. What a mistake he had made in doing so. It ruined him, the way she’d held his hand in her sleep. Put a spike of jealousy under his skin to know that he couldn’t have such intimacy with her again.

Having her compliment his size was a nice memory, too. The kind that made his head swell. Other body parts, too. He’d meant what he’d said; Avenor should be fucking jailed for turning his back on her.

“…not really qualified. If you need help, I’m always here.”

Ezzyn didn’t even think. He’d meant to have a cautious glance to make sure his office was safe, Anadae-free, but Avenor’s grating, familiar voice overrode all else. He could only be talking to one other person. Sinking his hooks into her yet again.

Ezzyn was in the doorway and interrupting them before his brain caught up.

The pair stared at him, momentarily shocked. Ezzyn gave Avenor a perfunctory nod before turning his attention to Anadae. “Do you have a moment? We need to discuss the timetable for the slow-release experiment.”

Anadae nodded at once. “I’m at a good stopping point. Brint, could you please?” She gestured toward the door.

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