My thoughts slammed back into me. I stepped away, instinctively reaching for the curtain, but before I could move, he was already inside the booth with me, and suddenly the air wasn’t enough.
We were only a breath apart.
I wanted to scream. But the sound caught in my throat.
Kael towered over me, his eyes dark, his lips parted. The fact that I hadn’t seen him in days only made me more captivated by his beauty.
“Evie…” he growled, as if realizing only now whose presence he’d invaded.
“You’re in my booth,” I managed, my voice sounding like someone else’s, like I was narrating my own tale.
His eyes poured into me. I stepped back and crossed my arms, suddenly aware of how much skin the gown revealed.
He closed the distance between us anyway. Slowly, his hand rose and touched my shoulder. A shock went through me, every nerve awake, every hair on end. He brushed back a lock of my hair, exposing bare skin beneath and my pulse point. The touch sent me places I dared not go. My heartbeat threatened to tear through my skin.
I was frozen. I could only breathe.
He slowly withdrew his hand. His fingers trembled. His eyes traveled over me once, twice. Not like Jenna’s measuring glance, but with something dangerous.
He twitched almost imperceptibly. Maybe it was that same hatred, that disgust.
But no, not this time.
This time it was something I didn't understand.
Need.
No, it couldn't be. It was just Kael despising what he saw. It couldn't be himwantingme; that was absurd. Normally, that look in his eyes would have made me want to hide. But not today. Not while I wore this magnificent battledress.
He could go to the nine hells with his hatred and disgust for me.
“Is there a problem, Magister?” I asked, my hand finding my hip and settling there.
It seemed to snap him back to himself. “Is that what you’ll wear tonight?”
“Yes,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “Is there a problem?”
“Loose,” he said simply. Or rather, breathed.
“What?”
“Your hair,” he murmured. “Wear it loose.”
I stood there, lips parted, as he turned away. He was halfway out of the booth, and suddenly I didn’t want him to go at all.
“Will you be there?” The words came out harder than I’d intended, almost pleading.
He glanced over his shoulder. “The Ball is meant to reinvigorate the academy’s spirit,” he said. “In honor of Henrich Eisenberg.”
Nothing I didn’t already know, and yet it sounded like a confession. His tone had changed to something wistful.
“I will be there,” he said at last.
And then he left, just as he’d entered, without another word.
Dean Henrich Eisenberg. He’d been kind to me when I’d joined the academy. I’d admired him, a patient and kind wizard. When he passed, I’d lost not just a superior, but also an ideal. I wondered if Kael had known him, too.
Now, standing there alone, confused to say the least. I suddenly felt ridiculous in that gown.
