“Nice to meet you,” Kamine said with a rush. “I should go.”
“Not so fast,” Kestra said. “I heard you are getting private lessons from Grim.”
Grim? She hadn’t heard anyone use that nickname for Professor Grimot, and she didn’t like the sound of it, if she was being honest.
Kamine nodded. “We’re slowly making headway with my powers.” And she was slowly becoming infatuated with him, too.
“He has always been so great in one-on-one situations. He’s such a master with his gifts.” Kestra said, as if she held a deep secret.
Kamine didn’t understand Kestra’s implication, but she agreed only to end the conversation quickly. Kamine didn’t want to spend another second here with this woman. She needed to liedown and sleep off the last hour. Actually, she would take a long bath first, to rinse away his phantom touch.
“I’m grateful that he’s taking the time to help me.”
Kestra grabbed Kamine’s chin. “Let’s hope that all that hard work pays off in the Undertaking.”
Even sleep wouldn’t grace her with oblivion. A part of Kamine feared that her subconscious would dream of him, of his hands roaming her body, of his body on top of hers as he rolled his hips into her core.
The bad thing about having a roommate was that she couldn’t relieve herself of this lusty fog.
Another part of Kamine couldn’t wipe Kestra’s words from her mind. They hung in her subconscious like bright, red apples hanging from a tree branch. She wanted to yank them down, but they were too far for her to reach.
So Kamine picked up her shoes and tiptoed out of her bedroom, being careful to not wake Zoya up.
After Janina and Zoya arrived back from dinner, Kamine had barely been able to look at them. She busied herself with writing a letter to her father and brother, instead.
Her friends asked her about her lesson, and if she made any additional progress. She did her best to keep a straight face as she told them she was able to move the ground again. Thankfully, they didn’t ask her how she had done it this time. She didn’t even have a lie ready. She was fully prepared to spill out the truth.
Once she leveled her emotions, she would tell her friends what had happened. She needed an outlet. For now though, the secret stuck with her.
With the absence of windows, the hallways looked no different during the day than they did at night. It was always so dark that she needed the lit sconces to make her way through. The energy was different now, though. During the day, she expected to run into someone. Now, she didn’t, which made the dim tunnels all the more ominous.
She had no idea if a library even existed in this place, but it was a school, so it would be remiss of her to not seek one out.
For some reason, the late night air—or perhaps the lack of fresh air—made her think of her parents. How they both walked these halls, too, when they were her age. How even in this gilded cage they had fallen in love. Her father had said the moment he laid eyes on her mother, he knew he would dedicate every moment showing his love to her. Even in her mother’s cathartic state, he held true to that vow.
Kamine was too stressed about the Undertaking to even think of the possibility of pursuing something romantic. At least emotionally. Physically…was apparently a different matter.
“Where are you going?”
Kamine whipped around, her hand on her chest as her heart rate escalated. Her heart calmed when she realized it was just Professor Grimot, but her body tightened underneath her sleeping clothes.
She crossed her arms, taking a hesitant step back. “I’m looking for a library.” Gesturing towards the tunnels, she admitted, “I don’t even know if there is a library.”
“There isn’t.”
She grumbled. “What school doesn’t have a library?”
“At least not one that’s public,” he amended. He hesitated as he stared behind her, refusing to make eye contact. “I have my own personal stash.”
“Is that an invitation, or a way to show off?”
He shrugged. “Both.”
She finally took a moment to study him. He looked disheveled and flustered. His hair was in a haphazard bun, his sleeves rolled up, his buttons undone. Was he also affected by what they had done earlier? Did he regret it?
She had strong feelings about it, too, but regret was not one of them. Desire for more was more like it, though she wasn’t ready to admit that, if he didn’t feel the same.
But this invitation…what did it mean?
