“They usually are.”
He crossed the room to stand behind her, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her body. “What are you looking at?”
“My own cells, magnified several hundred times.” She made a small sound of satisfaction and finally sat back, rolling her shoulders to ease the tension that always accumulated during her work. “I think I’ve figured out why my blood only works when given willingly.”
“Oh?”
“It’s not just the blood itself—it’s something in the giving.” She turned to face him, her blue eyes bright with excitement. The gold flecks in them seemed to dance in the laboratory’s dim light. “When I’m frightened or threatened, my body produces different hormones. They actually suppress the regenerative properties. But when I’m calm, when I’m choosing to help... the opposite happens. The healing factor is enhanced.”
He considered this. “So the protection is built into you. Not just an accident.”
“Exactly. My father theorized something similar in his notes, but I’ve confirmed it. Anyone who tried to force my blood from me would get nothing useful. It would heal surface wounds, maybe, but nothing significant.” A smile curved her lips. “My body literally refuses to help people who hurt me.”
“Clever body.”
“I thought so too.”
She was beautiful like this—flushed with triumph, mind racing with discoveries, so vibrantly alive that it made his chest ache. In the tower, she’d been lovely but contained, her curiosity trapped within walls she couldn’t escape. Here, she bloomed like the flowers in her garden, growing stronger and brighter with each passing day.
“You’re staring,” she said.
“I’m admiring.”
“Same thing.”
“Not at all. Staring implies rudeness. Admiring implies appreciation for beauty.”
She laughed, and the sound filled the small space like music. “When did you become such a diplomat?”
“I’ve been practicing. Ember says I need to learn subtlety if I’m going to navigate human society.”
“And what did Rykan say?”
“That Ember should stop trying to civilize people who don’t need civilizing.”
She laughed again, and he felt the familiar surge of warmth that her joy always provoked. Two months of waking beside her, of sharing meals and conversation and the quiet intimacy of building a life together, and the feeling hadn’t faded. If anything, it had deepened, settling into his bones like marrow.
Mine,his beast purred.Ours. Forever.
“Are you done for today?” He reached past her to shut down the microscope, his arm brushing against her shoulder. “You’ve been in here since dawn.”
“I had to finish this phase of testing. The samples degrade after a few hours.”
“The samples can wait. You need food.”
“I ate breakfast.”
“Half a piece of toast doesn’t count as breakfast.”
She opened her mouth to argue, then seemed to think better of it. She knew by now that arguing with him about food was pointless. His protective instincts wouldn’t allow him to watch her skip meals, no matter how absorbed she became in her work.
“Fine. But only because you’re insufferably persistent.”
“I prefer ‘devoted.’”
“You would.”
She stood, stretching the stiffness from her limbs, and Pip immediately scurried up to his favorite perch on her shoulder. The little creature chittered something that might have been agreement, though Baylin suspected he was just angling for more dried fruit.
