Page 65 of Destroyer

“You proved it to me,” said Fen, matter-of-fact.

“You already believed in magic.”

He grinned, one eye half-obscured by his hair. “Aren’t we a pair? Probably the only two people in Navenie who believe in magic, thrown together by fate.”

Ru’s brows drew together in thought. This wasn’t the first time Fen had mentioned fate, nor the first she had felt distinctly as if she were at fate’s mercy. “The rational explanation for fate is purely science-based,” she said as if reciting by rote. “A coincidence occurs every moment of every day, no matter who or where you are. But only a small fraction of such coincidences are so surprising, so notable as to be considered fateful — beyond the physical. Only explained by somethingmore.”

Fen arched a dark brow in amusement. “And you believe that?”

Ru pressed her lips together in thought. “Until recently.”

He hummed, but whether it was an agreement or simply an acknowledgment, she couldn’t tell. Then he leaned forward and lifted a hand to brush a stray hair off her cheek, tucking it gently behind her ear. His touch was warm, solid, familiar.

I mean it’s obvious that Fen’s infatuated with you.

No, Archie was wrong. A jealous past lover, seeing what he wanted to see. But Ru’s heart hammered in her chest, and she couldn’t pull her gaze from Fen’s.

“Your paper is ingenious,” Fen said, voice low. “The things you understand, the complexity… no one else sees the world like you do, Ru.”

“I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration,” she murmured.

Thrown together by fate…

Fen shifted then, looked away, and cleared his throat. He glanced back at Ru, throat bobbing visibly as he swallowed. “You’d better get some sleep,” he said at last, almost apologetically.

He was right — they officially began research on the artifact first thing the following morning. The dungeon was set up, everything in place… everything except Ru’s head, apparently.

She nodded, determinedly looking at anything in the room but Fen; she realized she had been staring, entranced like a flower reaching for the sun. Flustered and inexplicably disappointed, impatient with herself for losing control of her feelings so easily, she slid off the bed, smoothing her skirts with self-conscious precision.

Fen stood too. “If you ever need to talk again, I’m here.”

“Thank you,” she said, hurrying past him to the door. The room was so small she had to brush against him, his body heat clinging to her. “Good night,” she said, closing the door firmly behind her.

Out in the corridor, she paused for a moment, catching her breath, willing her pulse to slow. When her breathing was even again, she set off down the hall.

Back in her room, stripping to her undergarments, Ru climbed into bed. Groaning with confusion and frustration, she pulled the covers up to her chin. She couldn’t lose control around the artifact. Her emotions had to remain in check. So how was she supposed to study it, to be confined to a room with it every day, with Fen so near? His effect on her, on the artifact’s connection to Ru, was undeniable. But that didn’t make it any less confusing.

Thrown together by fate. The words echoed in her head.

She closed her eyes, hoping sleep would take her quickly, but it didn’t come. Her only thoughts were of Fen, his eyes, the way he could somehow see through to the truth of her. She felt she might never sleep. But almost as if it heard her, the artifact pressed a soft caress to her mind, soothing.

So at last, slow and heavy like a fog descending from the mountains, sleep overcame her.

* * *

Ru lay in bed,enveloped in blankets. All was still and quiet. The night sky hung clear and bright outside her window, a dark expanse scattered with stars like salt on black velvet. What time was it?

She mentally reached for the artifact and felt nothing, no thread. No connection. But somehow it didn’t alarm her; she didn’t miss it.

And then, “It's all right," said a deep voice from the shadows of her room. “I'm here.”

Fen moved as if he were a shadow himself, one moment across the room from her, and the next, his weight was on the bed, his knees pressing divots into the mattress on either side of her, leaning over her like a predator. He was dressed in the same black trousers and shirt he'd worn in his room. His eyes were dark, seething with want.

Ru's body, still heavy with sleep, responded to his proximity — a flare of need in her belly.

“What do you want?” Fen asked, his hands planted on either side of her, his arms flexed as he leaned down.

She lifted her hips to him, unbearably slowly. And then the blankets were gone, exposing her skin to the night. Nothing lay between them, then, but thin garments and a distance that Ru ached to close.

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