“And now?”
He turned back to face her. Something in his expression had cracked. Not broken—cracked. Like a fault line running through stone.
“Now I can’t stop thinking about you.” The words came out harsh. Almost angry. “You’re chaotic and emotional and everything I’ve spent centuries avoiding. You storm into rooms and the barometric pressure shifts. You argue with me about data interpretation like anyone has ever dared to challenge my conclusions. You’re mortal—sixty years, maybe eighty if you’re lucky—and my dragon wants you more than it’s ever wanted anything.”
Cassia stood. The chair rolled back, forgotten. She closed the distance between them, stopping just out of reach.
“And what doyouwant?”
He studied her. Not analyzing or categorizing or maintaining professional distance—just looking at her with something unguarded and hungry and afraid in his eyes.
“I don’t know,” he said again. “That’s the problem. I haven’t wanted anything in so long that I’ve forgotten what it feels like.And now—” His hand lifted, hesitated, then fell back to his side without touching her. “Now I look at you, and I want things I can’t name. Things I can’t quantify. Things that don’t fit in any framework I have for understanding the world.”
“Maybe that’s the point.” She shouldn’t be saying this. Shouldn’t be standing this close, breathing the same charged air, letting hope spark in her chest. “Maybe some things aren’t meant to be understood. Just felt.”
“I don’t do that.”
“Neither do I.” Her laugh came out broken. “I’ve spent my whole life being told I feel too much. So I learned to push it down. Control it. Hide how much everything affects me so people wouldn’t run.” She met his gaze. “We’re the same. Just opposite ends of the same problem.”
Something flickered in his expression. Recognition, maybe. Understanding.
The silence between them held everything unspoken. She could feel the charge between them in her blood, in her bones, in the magic coiling in her chest. He radiated heat—dragon fire barely contained—and she wanted to touch him so badly, her hands ached.
Aero’s jaw tightened. His control visibly fraying.
Then he turned and walked out.
The door swung shut behind him. In his wake, every light in the weather station exploded—a cascade of sparks and shattering glass that left Cassia standing in darkness, electricity still arcing from her fingertips, her heart pounding against her ribs.
Gust woke with an indignant squawk.
What did you DO?
She didn’t have an answer.
She only knew that something had shifted between them. Something that couldn’t be unshifted. Something that terrified her and thrilled her in equal measure.
Outside, thunder rolled across Haven Shores.
Cassia stood in the darkness, surrounded by broken glass and fading sparks, and let herself feel it.
All of it.
Even the parts that hurt.
SIXTEEN
AERO
It was research.
That was what Aero told himself as he loaded the basket into his rental car. The storm system building off the coast required observation from an elevated vantage point. The sea cliffs north of town offered the best sightlines. Cassia’s expertise in local atmospheric patterns made her the logical companion for extended fieldwork.
The picnic was practical. They might be out there for hours. Food was a necessity, not a gesture.
“This is a date.”
Delos leaned against the cabin’s porch railing, arms crossed, grinning with the insufferable certainty of someone who saw right through every excuse Aero could manufacture.
