She knew. Somehow, this ancient siren had taken one look at Cassia and seen exactly what was happening. Had probably seen the clouds gather the moment her fingers touched Aero’s arm.
Cassia forced herself to breathe. To push back against the storm building in her blood. The clouds lightened fractionally—still dark, still threatening, but no longer on the verge of breaking open.
“The surge affects local practitioners differently,” she managed. “I’ve been documenting the variations.”
“How fascinating.” Nerissa’s voice dripped honey. “You must have so much data. Being so closely connected to the phenomenon and all.”
Aero shifted. A subtle movement, but it put space between himself and Nerissa. Her fingers fell away from his arm.
“The data sharing you mentioned,” he said. “Submit it through official channels. The Council will forward anything relevant.”
“So formal.” Nerissa’s laugh held an edge now. “You haven’t changed at all, have you? Still keeping everyone at arm’s length. Still pretending you’re above emotional entanglement.” Her gaze flickered between Aero and Cassia. “Although perhaps that’s changing. The surge does seem to be affecting even the most… resistant specimens.”
“I’m not a specimen.” The words came out sharper than Cassia intended.
“Of course not, dear.” Nerissa’s smile was all teeth. “Just an observation. You’re clearly important to the research. Why else would Elder Tau be spending so much time with a local weather witch?”
The implication landed exactly where it was meant to. Cassia felt it like a blade between her ribs—the suggestion that she was nothing special. That Aero’s attention was purely professional. That whatever she’d imagined between them was fantasy built on desperation.
“Miss Gale’s expertise is essential to understanding the atmospheric anomalies,” Aero said. His voice had gone colder than she’d ever heard it. “Her contributions have already identified patterns that my own analysis missed.”
It was a defense. Small, precise, utterly lacking in emotion—but still a defense.
Nerissa’s expression flickered. Something passed behind those shifting eyes. Something that looked almost like rage, quickly smoothed away.
“How lovely. A true partnership, then.” She stepped back, movements still graceful despite the dismissal she’d just received. “I’ll leave you to your work. But, Aero—” She touched the pearl at her throat, a casual gesture that drew attention to the elegant line of her neck. “We should catch up properly. Dinner, perhaps? For old times’ sake?”
“My schedule is fully committed to the research.”
“Of course, it is.” Nerissa’s smile didn’t waver, but her eyes had gone flat. Cold. “Well. I’m staying at the marina, if you change your mind. The Deepwater Courts are always interested in… maintaining relations.”
She turned and walked away, every step calculated to display her fluid grace. The dock seemed dimmer when she’d gone, as if she’d taken some of the light with her.
Cassia realized she was shaking.
FOURTEEN
CASSIA
They didn’t talk about it.
The rest of the morning passed in silence. Cassia threw herself into the ward documentation with desperate focus—measuring pressure gradients, tracing magical signatures, anything that kept her hands busy and her mind away from Nerissa’s fingers resting against Aero’s sleeve.
She had no claim on him. She knew that. The thought made her chest ache anyway.
“You’re distracted.”
Aero’s voice cut through her spiral. They were at the breakwater now, examining the oldest ward inscriptions carved into the stone foundation. He stood three feet away—near enough to sense, not near enough to touch. The precise distance he’d maintained all day.
“I’m fine.”
“You’ve been staring at the same inscription for four minutes. Either you’ve discovered something revolutionary, or your mind is elsewhere.”
“Maybe I found something revolutionary.”
“Did you?”
She hadn’t. She’d been thinking about Nerissa’s fingers on his arm. About the familiarity between them. About thirty years ago and Geneva and whatever had happened there that the siren still remembered.
