Dragons ran hot. Everyone knew that. It didn’t mean anything that she could feel his warmth from across the room.
“Your familiar doesn’t like me,” he observed. His voice was low, clinical.
“Gust doesn’t like anyone.”
“He seems particularly hostile toward dragons.”
“Dragons eat birds.” She shrugged, feigning a casualness she didn’t feel. “Can’t blame him for self-preservation.”
“I don’t eat storm petrels.”
“I’ll be sure to let him know. I’m sure that will fix everything.”
Another flicker in those eyes. Something that might have been amusement, quickly suppressed. “You have a sharp tongue, Miss Gale.”
“I don’t know why Sue assigned me to you, and frankly, I don’t care. I’ll do my job. I’ll help with your research. But I’m not interested in whatever games ancient dragon elders play, and I’m definitely not interested in being condescended to by someone who predates written language.”
Aero’s expression didn’t change. Not a flicker, not a twitch. “I don’t play games.”
“Then we should get along fine.”
“I doubt that.”
His voice remained perfectly level, but something about the way he said it made her stomach flip. Not an insult, exactly. More like a prophecy. Like he knew something she didn’t and wasn’t planning to share.
Cassia hated people who knew things she didn’t.
“Nine a.m.,” she said, already turning toward the door. “Try not to be late.”
“I’m never late.”
“There’s a first time for everything.”
She was almost to the door when his voice stopped her.
“Miss Gale.”
She paused but didn’t turn. Couldn’t turn. If she looked at him again right now, she wasn’t sure what would happen, and that uncertainty terrified her. “What?”
“The lightning earlier.” A brief silence, heavy with something unspoken. “Does that happen often?”
The question should have been clinical. Research-related. But something in his tone made her spine stiffen. Something that suggested he was asking about more than just her control issues.
“The surge has made my magic unstable.” She measured each word. “I’m working on it.”
“That wasn’t an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting.”
She pushed through the doors before he could respond, Gust swooping down to land on her shoulder with a satisfied little chirp. The morning air hit her face, cool and salt-tinged, and she sucked in a breath like she’d been underwater.
What was that?
Her hands were shaking. Her magic churned beneath her skin, agitated and hungry, straining toward the building she’d just left. Towardhim.
Gust pressed against her neck, his small body warm and grounding.
Didn’t like him. Bad. Wrong. Made you spark. Made you reach.
