Page 82 of Research with Rivals
Maybe I also hope it won’t disrupt our newfound … something.
“Alright, Evelyn?” I turned to Ambrose, who had snuck up behind me again. The pot with the growing plants was in my hands, held out like an offering. I hadn’t registered the emotions flooding me until I felt something wet against my cheek.
Ambrose’s thumb was there. He cupped my cheek as he swiped away the drop. “I think they’ll be alright. I’m sure you’ve already realized that they are our anchor. If burning the rope doesn’t work, I do think burning the flowers would break the connection.”
I sucked in an outraged breath.
He chuckled. “But we’re not testing the anchor method, are we? We’re testing your method, severing the connection at the source.”
I punched him lightly on the shoulder. “You could have phrased that any other way.”
He smiled. “Where would the fun be in that?”
“Are you ready to do this?” I asked.
He nodded. “Here?” He glanced down at the single chair in the study carrel.
“We should probably get the other chair from the closet to recreate the specific event.”
“The event where you accepted a sandwich from me? The event where you shared your theories with me, even though we were … are … competitors?”
My stomach flipped with the acknowledgement I knew we’d both avoided. I set the pot down in the window. “Yes, that one.”
He returned quickly with the chair, and we took our seats. It was midday, and other researchers wandered through the stacks, but somehow it felt like Ambrose and I were alone in the library. Hesitation crept up my spine, and I couldn’t pinpoint precisely why.
“You tried to do this at Vesten House, correct?” I asked, though he had already confirmed as much yesterday morning with Lord Arctos. I was pretty sure I was stalling.
His slight smirk said he understood too much, but still, he answered my question. “I could control the burn, but the rope wouldn’t ignite.”
“You should try it here.”
His brow furrowed. “You don’t want to try? I can teach you how to adjust the temperature of your fire. You learned so quickly with your shift, I’m sure you could do this with a few tries.”
I smirked. “I’m sure I would, too. But if you’re still comfortable with it, I’d like you to do it.”
Heat flashed in Ambrose’s eyes at my confidence. He was such a good teacher—well-practiced from helping his siblings, but he found the exact right ways to communicate with me, too. And I was a prickly student. I resented the fact that the information hadn’t been available to me when I needed it. Ambrose had a point when he said I put too much weight on my father’s absence. The responsibility of teaching me magic shouldn’t have fallen on one person’s shoulders. The Vesten Court needed solutions to help others in my situation find their way more quickly, more surely, than the roundabout path I hadstumbled through. I wanted it to be easier for those who came after me.
My thoughts turned to Ambrose. He’d skirted how large a decision he’d made with his first attempt to break our connection. Blood magic on living things. Who would have thought? If anything, the severity of Lord Arctos and Carter’s request seemed to have shown him there was value in the knowledge. I had already known he’d do great things, but how quickly he evolved his position with new knowledge gave me confidence he’d fit the Vesten historian position as well as I would.
And now I was back to thinking about our competition.
Emotions flooded me, emotions I wasn’t used to dealing with. I’d gotten so used to letting the things I wanted pass me by. So used to not wanting anything to prevent further disappointment. Now, I’d ended up wanting two things that seemed incompatible with each other.
I wanted the Vesten historian position, but I wanted Ambrose, too.
My sigh was heavy as I rubbed my chest. We sat next to each other, but I could feel the flare of the magic between us. Part of me knew our fire and animals reaching for each other would remain. It was a symptom of our attraction to each other, not the blood magic. Still, I hesitated. “I am not sure I could destroy it. I’m feeling sentimental this afternoon.”
He laughed. “You think I want to?”
I shrugged, unsure if I wanted to push to understand what his comment meant.
His hand closed around mine. “I’ll do it because I know we’re not exactly acting rationally at the moment. Before I do, I want you to know that this accidental bond was the best thing that has ever happened to me, Evelyn.”
I saw the truth of his words in his hazel eyes. “No one has ever accused me of being irrational.”
His lip tilted playfully. “That’s not true, I used to do it all the time.”
“You’re the exception.”
