Chapter 13
THIRTEEN
CASSIA
Cassia was going to lose her mind.
Three days. Three impossibly long days of working beside Aero Tau, of breathing the same air, of pretending that every nerve in her body didn’t catch fire when he stepped into a room.
She’d tried everything—keeping the workstation between them, arriving early to claim space, burying herself in data so thoroughly that she had an excuse not to look at him.
None of it worked.
He was everywhere. At the weather station when she arrived each morning, already working, barely glancing up when she entered. In her thoughts when she finally crawled into bed at night, exhausted from fighting her own magic and losing anyway.
Last night, she’d dreamed about him. About the way heat radiated from his body when he stood too close. About hands that had never touched her but that she somehow knew would be warm, rough-palmed, certain.
She’d woken to a thunderstorm rattling her windows, and Gust perched on her headboard, staring at her with avian judgment.
You’re losing it, he’d sent through their bond. Over a lizard.
“Shut up.”
Make me.
She hadn’t been able to.
Now it was barely past nine in the morning, and she stood on the main dock watching Aero examine the ward anchors embedded in the seawall.
The harbor spread before them, fishing boats rocking gently at their moorings, the smell of salt and diesel thick in the cool air.
Above them, clouds gathered. Not natural clouds—her clouds, responding to the churning in her chest.
Cassia clenched her fists and tried to will them away.
Aero straightened from his crouch by the seawall, tablet in hand, his dark hair lifting in the breeze. “The ward readings are showing interference patterns consistent with external manipulation. Something is—” He turned, caught her staring, and stopped mid-sentence.
Their gazes held.
The clouds darkened overhead.
“You’re doing it again,” he observed.
“Doing what?”
“Summoning weather.” His gaze flicked upward, then back to her face. “Every time your emotional state shifts, the atmosphere responds. It’s become predictable.”
Predictable. She wanted to hit him. “I’m aware of my own magic, thank you.”
“Are you?” He stepped closer, and gods, there it was again—the familiar current of awareness that made her skin prickle.
“My control is fine.”
“Your control is—”
“Elder Tau!”
The voice cut through their argument, musical and warm, and Cassia turned to see someone approaching along the dock.
The first thing she registered was beauty.
The kind that felt almost painful to look at—striking enough that it didn’t seem entirely real.
The woman moved with fluid grace, her dark hair falling past her shoulders in waves that seemed to shift and flow even without wind.
Her skin had a luminous quality, as if lit from within by something cool and pale. And her eyes—
Cassia couldn’t quite determine their color. Sea-green one moment, silver the next, shifting with the light.
She wore flowing clothes in shades of ocean blue, silver jewelry catching the gray morning light, and she smiled at Aero with a familiarity that made something hot and ugly twist in Cassia’s gut.
“Nerissa.” Aero’s voice was flat. Neutral in a way that somehow conveyed profound disinterest. “I wasn’t aware you were in Haven Shores.”
“The Deepwater Courts sent me to observe the surge phenomenon. Similar mission to yours, actually.” The woman—Nerissa—stopped beside him, near enough that her shoulder nearly brushed his arm. “It’s been so long since we’ve crossed paths. Geneva, wasn’t it? The summit with the vampire delegations?”
“Thirty years ago.” Still flat. Still neutral.
“Has it been that long?” Nerissa’s laugh was like water over stones. “Time moves so differently for those of us who have plenty of it.”
Cassia felt suddenly, painfully aware of her mortality. Of the crow’s feet beginning to form at the corners of her eyes. Of her wild hair escaping its braid, the salt stains on her jacket, and the calluses on her hands from years of real work.
Nerissa looked like she’d never worked a day in her life. Like she’d never had to. Like beauty and grace had simply been handed to her at birth, and she’d spent three centuries perfecting both.
“And who is this?” Nerissa’s iridescent gaze finally found Cassia, assessment sharp beneath practiced warmth. “Your research assistant?”
“Research partner.” Aero’s correction was immediate. “Cassia Gale. She’s the local weather specialist.”
“Oh, how wonderful.” Nerissa’s smile widened, perfect teeth gleaming. “I’ve heard such interesting things about the weather here. So volatile lately. So dangerous.” Her attention lingered on Cassia a beat too long. “It must be exhausting, trying to manage something so unpredictable.”
The words could have been sympathetic. Should have been. But something in Nerissa’s tone grated against Cassia’s instincts, made her feel like she was being cataloged for weaknesses.
“I manage fine.”
“Of course, you do.” Nerissa touched Aero’s arm—a light, casual gesture that shouldn’t have meant anything.
Her fingers rested against his sleeve, pale against dark fabric.
“Aero, I was hoping we might compare notes on the surge patterns. The Deepwater Courts have gathered extensive data on oceanic anomalies. It might complement your atmospheric research.”
She was still touching him.
Cassia’s magic surged.
The clouds overhead thickened, darkening from gray to charcoal. A gust of wind swept across the dock, sharp enough to tug at loose rigging and make the boats strain against their lines. The barometric pressure plummeted—she felt it in her bones, in the sudden heaviness of the air.
Not now, she told herself. Not here.
But her body wasn’t listening. Her magic wasn’t listening. Something about watching this elegant, ancient creature touch Aero with such easy familiarity had bypassed every control mechanism Cassia possessed.
She wasn’t jealous. She had no right to be jealous. The dragon elder meant nothing to her—he was cold and clinical and treated her like a particularly interesting data set.
So why did her chest feel like it was cracking open?
“The weather,” Nerissa observed, glancing upward with a slight frown. “How suddenly it changes here. Is this a surge effect, do you think? Or something more… personal?”
Her iridescent gaze slid back to Cassia. The smile remained, but something in it had sharpened. A blade hidden beneath silk.
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.