Page 44 of Research with Rivals
“I can confirm, even if Evelyn can’t, that my parents have no connection to my magic. I had to tell them the first time I shifted,” Ambrose said in that calm and confident tone he used when speaking about a historical fact.
I jumped, squeaking as I glanced up to where Ambrose now stood, his arms draped over my study carrel as he leaned against it again. The sleeves of his white shirt were already rolled back, and there were … forearms … everywhere. I blamed Lord Arctos for my attention on the way his muscles flexed when he laced his fingers together so casually.
“Ambrose,” I said through gritted teeth, about to tell him off again about sneaking up on me.
His smile was wolfish.
My heart flip-flopped in my chest, a feeling wholly separate from the tightness when he wasn’t near. This might have been the first time he’d so obviously shown me his animal. Seated in my chair, with the Vesten God perched on my shoulder, I wasn’t sure what to do with the intimacy. Then I realized Lord Arctos had been speaking into my mind, but Ambrose had answered the question.
“You were speaking to him, too?”
The black bird shrugged, which just meant more feathers flapped against my face. “He was walking toward us anyway. I figured I’d give him the option to be useful.”
Ambrose’s hazel eyes narrowed at that comment, leading me to believe Lord Arctos’s words continued to be for everyone. I tried to hide the blush overtaking my cheeks as I realized Ambrose must have heard what I said about my fae father.
I decided to ignore that fact and return us to the matter at hand. “So, if this is where the gods announce that they have done something to connect themselves to the fae, do we have any text about what they actually did?”
Lord Arctos sighed as if we were the most exhausting beings on the continent. “I have a note from Zrak. He said only to give it to you if you got this far.”
“This whole thing has been another test?!” My voice was higher pitched than I would have liked, but I couldn’t help it. I was sick of how the Vesten God dropped pieces of information like pathway markers; you were never sure the next one was there until you were already upon it. We stood little chance of success this way.
“The Osten God wanted to make sure you had some skill before you were to be trusted with the next piece.”
Ambrose folded his arms over his chest. I hated how I noticed the flex of his biceps under his shirt. This was getting ridiculous, but I went ahead and mentally blamed it on the magic.
We needed to return to work on our own problem. I was no longer sure how Lord Arctos had tricked me into working on his thing when I’d been intent on separating Ambrose and me before proceeding.
“When will you bestow this new piece of information on us?” I asked.
“I’d like you both to have a meal with me tonight.”
“Where?” Ambrose asked before I could complain.
“Let’s meet at the tavern Evelyn is so fond of. Parkview, is it?”
“We’ll meet you there.” Ambrose inexplicably took charge of the rest of the conversation. “Now, Evelyn and I need the time before the evening meal to do a bit more work.”
Lord Arctos snorted. “You mean work on trying to break your connection before you break mine? I’d prefer you test your theories amongst yourselves anyway.”He flapped his wings with newfound energy. “Carry on. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
The way Ambrose studied me as Lord Arctos flew away made my heart race. I hadn’t realized how much Lord Arctos’s presence was calming me until he was gone.
As usual, Ambrose didn’t seem to have the slightest understanding of how he affected me. He leaned a little farther across the carrel to touch the plants in the window.
“Sorry I took longer than anticipated,” he said. “My mother returned from her most recent trip and… Well, I’m sorry for the delay.” His lips flattened into a thin line as he spoke. What new books or intel had she brought home? Had it been well received?
I wondered what Ambrose’s relationship with his parents was like. They were both in the picture, but he spoke about them as if they had their own expectations for his life. Did they ever ask him what he wanted? His eyes had widened drastically this morning when I’d posed the question. He also hadn’t seemed sure in his response—like he was testing the words. I wasn’t sure what to make of that.
“I didn’t get much done before Lord Arctos showed up,” I said. “I was considering the path through our connection.”
Ambrose glanced around as if searching for … a chair. I hadn’t taken the time to hide the one across from me when I’d arrived today. It just wasn’t worth my time. It certainly wasn’tso that I could experience the corner of Ambrose’s lip twitching when he noticed it. I’m also sure it wasn’t so that his large form would crowd into my space as he pulled the chair over, the same way he had the night we unintentionally bound ourselves.
My veil cat purred at his proximity. I reminded myself that this was just an effect of the magic. But gods, I hoped he couldn’t hear her.
Old books and pencil shavings filled my nose. He was so close. Then he pulled out that stupid notebook and pencil. That could not be a turn on. I refused to believe that. Still, I grasped for words. Magic. We were discussing blood magic and an approach to solving our predicament.
“So, through the magic,” I said. “Yes? We should try to do what it wants? You appeared amenable to that approach this morning.”
He scratched the back of his neck absent-mindedly as I spoke. “I am … amenable,” he said. “Are you?”
