Why did I stop?My body yearns to keep going, aching painfully from being left unsatisfied. But my heart… What’s this tension curling within? Why does it hesitate to trust what the rest of me wants?
This has all been so fast. Too fast to be real? Or maybe I’m scared. Of baring myself so completely.
No, that’s not it. He sees me—more than anyone—and appreciates the person I’ve kept locked away for all these years, fearing she wouldn’t meet expectations. But this is different. The one way I can still disappoint him.
Stop overthinking.
Caeo tucks his arm around me, and I lean into his shoulder, my heart pounding. “It’s fine, Ellie. We can wait till you’re ready.”
A lump forms in my throat. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
The tension inside me won’t release, and it won’t as long as I keep my fears buried inside. If he really cares, then I shouldn’t be afraid.
With a deep breath, I force myself to speak. “You’ve been with other girls before, haven’t you?”
Caeo rubs his thumb against my hip. “There’s been… more than a few.”
I swallow. I can’t really blame him. He’s gorgeous, and if I’d lived a different life, I’d have liked to be more experienced, too. But my worry lingers. “What if I’m not as good as them?”
He brings his hand to my face, his gentle touch tilting my head until I meet his eyes. “Don’t worry about that. You’re not like those women.”
“Because I stopped?”
“No—I mean, yes, that’s true.” A soft smile blooms across his face. “But I didn’t care about them like I care about you. I told you: I’m yours. I’ll never break your heart.”
Words escape me, floating just out of reach. Tears threaten to fall as I search his face.
There’s nothing but devotion in his eyes.
Bringing my lips to his, I kiss him softly, tenderly. When we part, my own heart’s reflected in his gaze. It’s unclear what the future holds, but in this moment, with him, it doesn’t worry me for once. I curl into his chest, closing my eyes as the steady rhythm of his heart echoes through me.
Chapter 12
Ellie
“Hey, Reid, is this right?” From my spot on the cold, gray sitting room floor, I spin my paper toward him. Normally, a man wouldn’t be allowed in the women’s dorms, but as he said the day we met, “Frowns don’t stop him.” So far, he hasn’t been caught.
He drops his pen on the table, skimming the page as he leans back in the purple armchair. “No, it’s not. That would adjust the temperature, not the pressure.” He grabs a spare sheet and quickly sketches a focal. “That’s what you’re looking for. See the difference?”
I scan the drawing, searching for differences from what I described in my essay. They seem insignificant, but I trust he’s right. It’s become clear over the last few weeks that he has a better understanding of the theory behind incantation than I ever will. It makes sense—he taught himself all on his own, while I had my father’s guidance and countless tutors. Not that I’ll ever admit that to him.
With a sigh, I pull out a new piece of paper. Professor Dewey won’t accept any mistakes in our penmanship, and unfortunately, no incantation can erase ink. Evaporation still leaves the pigment behind.
A slam of the door startles me, messing up the word I was writing. I bite my lip in frustration, then let out a deep breath. By Fortune’s favor, I was only a couple sentences into my second attempt.
“Arandur’s sagging crack!” Reid throws his pen onto the table. His paper, almost entirely full, is marred by a shaky stray line right at the end. “Why are you slamming doors like that? Now I have to start this whole page all over.”
He sits back in his chair, crosses his arms, and glowers at Sophie. She stands at the door with her bag halfway falling out of her arms.
“You’re not supposed to be here.” She adjusts her grip on her bag, frowning at Reid.
“You’re one to talk. How are those remedial classes treating you?”
My throat tightens. Reid’s spent enough time with Alexis and me to be aware of the situation with Sophie, but I never expected him to actually say something. I should speak up before things get out of hand.
“Don’t be a jerk,” I say, tapping the table near Reid’s knee in warning, but all it accomplishes is drawing Sophie’s glare.
