Cassia returned with sandwiches and a militant expression that suggested she’d spent the lunch break rehearsing arguments. She challenged his temperature readings. Disputed his correlation matrices. Insisted on recalibrating equipment he’d calibrated three times already.
She was right about approximately sixty percent of the time, which was more infuriating than if she’d been entirely wrong.
“You’re not factoring in tidal variation,” she announced, pointing at his latest graph. A smear of mustard decorated her sleeve. She hadn’t noticed.
Aero noticed. He noticed everything about her. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was thinking. The way her nose wrinkled when she disagreed with something. The way her hands moved constantly, punctuating her words, reaching toward nothing.
He hated how much he noticed.
“Tidal variation has minimal impact on atmospheric surge measurements.” His voice came out flat.
Damn it.
“I’ll incorporate tidal data into the next analysis,” he said.
She blinked. “Just like that?”
“Did you expect me to argue?”
“Honestly? Yes.” She crossed her arms. “You’ve agreed with me three times today. It’s disconcerting.”
“Should I disagree with valid data to make you more comfortable?”
“No, I just—” She huffed out a breath, frustration radiating from her in waves he could almost taste. “I’m not used to people listening to me. Especially ancient, supposedly brilliant researchers.”
“Supposedly?”
“The jury’s still out.”
Something warm flickered in his chest. Not his dragon’s possessive heat—something else. Something dangerously close to amusement.
He suppressed it immediately.
“I’ll endeavor to prove myself, then.” He turned back to the equipment, putting distance between them both physically and mentally. “The storm system that formed last night. You caused it?”
Her silence was answer enough.
“The energy signature was unusual,” he continued, keeping his voice clinical. “More intense than typical weather magic. The surge amplification?”
“Among other things.” Her voice had gone quiet. Guarded. “My control has been… compromised since the surge started. I’m figuring it out.”
“How long?”
“Does it matter?”
“For the research, yes.” He made himself look at her. It was a mistake. Her expression had gone vulnerable, the sharp defenses lowered just enough to show something raw underneath. “The surge affects different practitionersdifferently. Understanding your specific response patterns could provide valuable data.”
“Is that what I am to you?” Her chin lifted, the vulnerability replaced by challenge. “Valuable data?”
“You’re a research partner,” Aero said evenly. “Your abilities and experiences are relevant to my investigation.”
Something flickered across her face. Disappointment? No. That made no sense.
“Right.” She turned away, gathering her things with sharp, efficient movements. “Well, thisresearch partnerneeds to go check the harbor ward anchors. Same time tomorrow?”
“Same time.”
She left without looking back. The door closed behind her with a soft click that somehow felt louder than a slam.
