“Monster,” I spit back.
“I will see you at dinner.”
“We will see about that, but just so you know I’ll dress however I want.”
He juts his chin into the air. “And I will find you contemptable if you do.”
“Glad we understand each other then.”
“As am I,” he huffs, not sounding very glad at all. But then again, neither do I. With that he storms off leaving me fuming. Aperfectly nice afternoon ruined and all just because Wilder had to show his smug little face.
Chapter Eighteen
Wilder
I’ll be honest, I was almost not expecting Bronwyn to answer her door when I knocked. But there she is, in all her glaring brilliance. To top it all off, she’s actually wearing an elegant gown, instead of buried in her bookish robes. It’s a deep blue, naturally since that color represents magic most magickers refuse to wear anything other than the colors of blue and purple to show their status. But unlike her robes this one clings to her curves. It hangs off her shoulders leaving her neck and collar bone exposed.
She has a very nice collar bone, it’s so elegant. Refined is perhaps a better word for it.
I blink twice when I realize that I’m staring and force my gaze up.
She raises a single brow. Her typically unruly curls are pinned back revealing strong yet slender features that are usually hidden behind them. Her brows, while thick, perfectly frame her eyes, drawing attention to their green depths.
Like a pool covered in moss that is catching the sunlight.
“Well? Do I live up to yourstandards, master vampire?” she asks, her voice dripping with contempt. “I’d hate to embarrass you by your association to me through our fake relationship.”
Standards? Oh, she surpassed them. I’m suddenly worried that she will make me look drab in comparison tonight.
She cleans up well… for a merchant’s daughter.
“You look passable,” I admit at last, the words struggling to form past the lump in my throat.
Ravishing is a bit of a better word for it, but I can’t have her getting too big of a head.
The glare is back as Bronwyn slips out of her room. Before she closes it, I happen to catch a glance inside. Like myself, she has one of the best, and most expensive, rooms in the academy set aside for her own personal uses.
While most have to share a common dorm, those of us with money are capable of pursuing our magical interests in privacy with our own runed circle for safe spellcasting without any destructive effects spreading. It’s a large yet cozy space, but I notice that Bronwyn’s room is bare. None of her belongings are strewn through it as if she never bothered to unpack.
There isn’t even a photo on the mantel or a comb on her bedstand.
Or perhaps because she is keeping everything in one place for a hasty exit. Her room is that of a person who doesn’t intend to stay long enough to unpack.
Such a thought should make me feel happy. I won’t have to worry about keeping her safe from Morozov’s and my father’s plans if she just picks up and leaves.
And yet, instead, I am filled with an overwhelming sense of panic at the thought of never seeing her again.
I clear my throat as I try my best to compartmentalize those feelings just as I do with anything else I’d rather not be feeling.
I hold my arm out to Bronwyn, a gesture that she completely ignores.
“So, what exactly should I expect from this?” she asks stiffly as she starts down the hall. “I’m bringing my spellbook just to be safe. I hope you know that I intend to use it if Morozov makes a move against me, no matter how important he is to you and your daddy’s plans.”
“I hope you know that I would never lead you into danger.” As worried as I am about the reason Morozov invited us to this dinner, if I actually thought he would try to kill her I wouldn’t be bringing her. I was simply trying to scare her back in the library, I had thought that maybe if she’s a little frightened she won’t do anything stupid in front of the professor. But now the idea of her even being remotely afraid is too much for me. I want to pull her close and bury my hand in those tumultuous curls of her and assure her that she will always be safe.
It would be a blatant lie, I’m sure, I couldn’t even keep myself safe from my father’s plans, but I don’t intend to fail again. Iwillprotect Bronwyn, even if I couldn’t do the same for myself.
“Do I know that?” she asks, her shoulders going stiff.
