Page 23 of Research with Rivals
I wanted to teach her how to warm herself—to ensure she was never in need of doing something so distasteful as accepting my sweater again—but magic was a sensitive topic between us. At the very least, I had learned to tread carefully with it. The last thing I wanted was to seem like I was shoving my fae heritage in her face.
My questions when she’d first arrived at the library had been more offensive than I’d intended. I learned quickly after that. Little things like asking where she trained or asking what school she’d gone to were hidden traps for explosions of resentment toward the fae.
I couldn’t blame her. Her responses reminded me she wasn’t allowed in the school I’d gone to, and hadn’t had the opportunity to read anything in the Vesten Library. Part of me liked that she’d showed us by besting us all with her knowledge of blood magic anyway. Mostly, I wished fae society was more accepting.
As she pulled my sweater over her head, a flame fanned to life in my chest.
What is happening?
“What are you doing here, Ambrose?”
I didn’t see much point in hiding it. It was as good an introduction to talk about Vesten magic as any. She looked at me with those big brown eyes that I was now confident hid something animalistic. They narrowed with apprehension.
If there was one thing I was good at, it was learning from history. That was my specialty, after all. My experiences with Evelyn, especially when it came to traditional fae attributes like magic, led me to understand that it was best to offer her information first and see if she wanted to reciprocate.
“I was running in my shifted form.” I cleared my throat, preparing to share something I wasn’t sure I had ever said to anyone outside my family. All Vesten children were taught not to speak about our animals with others. I pushed aside my father’s disappointment to offer Evelyn a little information about myself. “The wolf you just encountered on the path was me. I apologize if I startled you.”
Her breathing hitched at my lack of evasiveness, and my wolf preened at finally understanding some part of Evelyn Knowles.
Let’s not congratulate ourselves too early.
“You were big.”
I choked on wherever I thought the conversation had been headed next. This was not it. “Excuse me?”
She flushed. I was absolutely delighted by this turn of events, but I had no idea what to do with it.
“Your wolf,” she clarified. “It was large.”
I couldn’t even imagine the look I must have given her as she complimented my size. She continued to ramble, and I thought it was maybe the most perfect start to a day that I had yet to experience.
“You didn’t scare me. You were just … unexpected.” Then her brow furrowed as another thought must have flashed through her mind. “When did you get there?”
I heard what she didn’t ask.What did you see?
That was enough of an admission for me. If I’d had any doubts left—I didn’t—this response was proof she had a shifter form. One she didn’t want me to know about.
“When you saw me,” I reassured her. “That was when I arrived.”
She let out a shaky exhale and took a bracing sip of the tea in her hands. Her gaze finally met mine, and that warmth in my chest extended to my limbs.
This is decidedly not normal.The wolf in my head seemed to revel in whatever it was.
“You’re not going to ask me what I was doing over there?” She glanced toward Sandrin’s approaching shore.
“I would love to know, if you have any interest in sharing.”
She appraised me. “I was taking a walk.” She glanced down at her long, exposed legs and clutched her cup tighter. I was sure she was realizing how silly that sounded, given her dress.
“I see.”
“You don’t believe me?”
I almost laughed. “What I believe is irrelevant. I saw you walking in the woods. It matches your story.”
Her brown eyes had me rapt. I didn’t dare glance down at the length of her legs, the definition of her calves and thighs likely a result of many morning runs just like the one I was sure she’d been on today.
“Fine,” she said.
