Chapter 16
Ambrose
Iwas not one to hide from hard truths. My job was to bring them to the surface, to state facts that might otherwise have remained unaddressed. Why was I having such a hard time with this particular truth?
The wolf prowling in my head lay prostrate, covering his face with his paws as if to ask the same question.
It was embarrassing, sure, but it also wasn’t that simple.
Evelyn had been embarrassed when she’d confessed that she’d magically bound us together.
If I were only embarrassed, I would have said something yesterday, so that Evelyn didn’t feel so singularly stupid.
So that she knew this wasn’t only her fault.
And that was the problem.
I wasn’t convinced that my feelings and actions were due to the blood magic.
My wolf went back to pacing in my head as I considered that. I can’t ignore that blood was spilled, that I had intent. The fact that I found her on the opposite side of the bay in wolf form is also suspicious. I hunted her, for all intents and purposes. That wasn’t due to my attraction.
On a heavy sigh, I returned to the kitchen to collect the stack of pancakes that Sasha hadn’t taken. I separated them onto two plates while I boiled water for coffee.
Evelyn sat uncomfortably at the table. Her spine was straight, and she nervously tucked her hair behind her ears as she glanced around the apartment.
What must she think of it? I tried to imagine it from her perspective.
Morning light spilled in through the windows in the sitting room.
The light gray sofa, the plain wood table, and a small collection of toys that the twins had brought but hadn’t taken home with them.
The space wasn’t much, but it was mine. That had been my concession to myself when I decided to stick close to my parents’ place to help with the twins.
As if the thought summoned them, another knock sounded at the door. I was unsurprised to see Timothy peek around the door as it opened. He hadn’t quite learned to wait after the knock.
“You didn’t bring the rest of the pancakes. Sasha said you probably got distracted. She said you couldn’t stop staring at your friend.”
I shook my head, wondering if my siblings had been created solely to torture me, even if his assertion wasn’t far from the mark. I had forgotten to bring the rest of them. “Here they are, Tim.” I offered him the plate with the remaining stack.
“Father asked if you needed him to take us to school.”
I thought maybe Evelyn snorted from the table, but when I glanced over my shoulder, her face was as masked as it had been when she searched the room.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes. Evelyn and I need to finish our discussion.”
Timothy nodded and left with the plate. I poured hot water over the filter and grounds, making two cups of coffee to accompany our meal. While the coffee finished, I went to the porch to pick fresh berries from the plant I kept there.
“I really can just meet you at the library. It’s clear you have a busy morning,” Evelyn said.
I returned, rinsing the berries and delivering the plates and cups to the table. “I asked you to stay for breakfast. I need to get this out.”
She nodded. “Thank you, this looks lovely. You cook for them every morning?”
I shrugged. “Most.”
“You said your mother travels for work? What does she do?” She bit her lip as the question slipped out, like maybe she hadn’t meant to show as much interest as she had.
Or maybe she thought I’d find the question impertinent.
Something in me was happy that she even cared to ask.
I never knew where I stood with Evelyn. I wanted her to want to know more.
“She maintains a private library for one of the old fae families. She travels often to collect new items for them and verify their authenticity before purchase.”
I cut into my breakfast. It also helped that this line of questioning would avoid the topic I so desperately needed to discuss with her.
My wolf flopped on the ground again in disappointment. I mentally argued with him: just a few more minutes of peace.
It was a testament to how much I wanted to avoid the main topic, that I continued to share information about my family—about our tenuous history with blood magic.
My hands wrapped around the warm mug, bringing it to my lips, and I took a bracing sip before offering more information.
“Mother took the job when Father retired. She’ll never admit it, but I’m sure she’s hoping to come across more texts on blood magic. ”
Evelyn’s leg bounced beneath the table. I could feel the vibrations through the floor. For a minute, I thought she wouldn’t ask. She bit her lip as if to keep the words in. I exhaled when they slipped out anyway. “Why?”
I found myself wanting her to know. Maybe it would help her understand why I was so thorough when it came to her experiments. “My father gave up on trying to break the magic that impairs his eyesight.” I swallowed. “My mother hasn’t. She thinks she’ll find the information in a rare text someday.”
Evelyn’s eyes narrowed. “Why doesn’t she ask you? You must have more information than any book she might find in an old fae collection.”
A huff escaped through my lips. It was almost a defense of me—of my ability—even though I knew she didn’t care for my cautious methods.
In reality, my research was a constant battle against myself.
A continuous need to learn, weighed against the need not to recreate an accident like my father’s. And he warned me about it daily.
“Neither of them wants me to study blood magic. My father may want me to be Vesten historian, but he has his own plan for how I should do everything differently.” I scratched the back of my neck, realizing we’d entered equally uncomfortable territory speaking about the Vesten historian position. “Not that I’m guaranteed it.”
She tilted her head as she took a bite, chewing thoughtfully before speaking. “Is that what you want with the position?”
What a novel question, but for once, her hackles didn’t rise with the discussion.
She seemed genuinely interested. The way she had so purposefully told me she wanted the Vesten historian position a few days ago rang through my mind.
That kind of conviction was intoxicating, although I still didn’t know why she wanted it.
I just knew with absolute certainty that she did.
Had anyone ever asked me why I wanted it?
If I wanted it? Father had tried to convince me not to study blood magic when Gabriel offered.
He’d tried to convince me to do anything else, even leave work at the library entirely.
I was far too obsessed with history, and Gabriel’s offer introduced me to a new field of study.
Something terrifying, yes, but something inherently connected to the history I loved.
It was only after Father’s attempts to dissuade me failed that he’d focused on safer research procedures with blood magic.
His requests had seemed reasonable until I met Evelyn.
“I want to learn from our past. I want to believe we can do better as a court, as a continent.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “And what about blood magic? Where does that fit in?”
I sighed. “That answer changes by the day.” My answer was too honest, but something felt unfiltered between us in this room.
At my kitchen table, eating the breakfast I had made for my family, it felt different than every single one of our discussions in the library.
“I want to believe experiments can be conducted safely.”
She gestured between us, her cheeks bright red. “That’s just not the way blood magic works.”
Well, she had me there. I was aware that there would always be some risk.
I was still having a hard time articulating my acceptable risk tolerance in discussions with my father.
His tolerance was nonexistent, and I understood why, but I knew, as Evelyn said, that to learn more and make progress, there needed to be a middle ground.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “About risks in conducting blood magic experiments.” I let the words slip from my lips like the question had slipped from hers. “I think there was more risk than you realized the other day—”
Her posture, which seemed to have finally relaxed as she listened to me talk about my family, snapped back to attention. “You want to lecture me further on—”
I pushed the words out before she could misconstrue them. “I don’t think it was only your intent that led to our bond.”
Her fork stopped in its path to her mouth, and she gaped at me. In the next breath, it clanged against the plate as she set it down, or possibly dropped it. I wasn’t sure because I didn’t take my eyes from hers as they narrowed in my direction again.
“Excuse me?” she said.
I cleared my throat. The hardest part was out.
“It wasn’t only you. The risk I’m talking about is that you don’t know all the details of that evening.
You were thinking about your experiment and about us growing together like the flowers.
” I took a sip of my coffee. “But I was there, too—blood from my cut was also spilled. You, more than anyone, should recognize that there may be multiple intentions at play when living things are involved. That night, during our meal, I was thinking about how everything I say to you comes out wrong, and how it might help if we could understand each other better.”
“Help what?” She looked so distrustful. Somehow, this entire thing was having the opposite effect I had hoped it would.
“Our relationship.”
She choked on the sip of coffee she’d taken in my silence.
“Our working relationship,” I clarified. “I just thought that maybe if we knew each other outside of the Vesten Library, if we spent time together like we did when we helped Vincent and Luna, that maybe our relationship wouldn’t be so antagonistic.”
She huffed out something that could have been a laugh—or a strangled snarl, I wasn’t sure. “So, you think your intent blended with mine?”
I nodded.
She didn’t look up as she took another bite of her breakfast. I wasn’t sure what else to say. I’d admitted what I needed to. “I’ll help find out how to undo it,” I said. “We’ll both take time away from Lord Arctos’s project to fix this.”
“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Her voice was quiet, which in my experience with Evelyn meant that she desperately wanted the answer but wasn’t prepared to say as much. I wanted to tell her, but how would that sound?
I wasn’t sure my actions were from magic. I thought I was just obsessed with you.
Something in my face must have shown my hesitation.
Finally, she glanced up, looking around the room again instead of at me. “If this morning is any indication, I’d say the magic is getting its way.”
Was this because of the magic? I hadn’t felt any pressure in my chest when considering telling her about my family.
Mostly, I had wanted her to know. To know me better, to know that my ticks, my quirks, weren’t as hostile as she seemed to believe.
I couldn’t say that, either. Instead, I held her gaze.
“The getting to know each other is a bit one-sided.”
She laughed but didn’t steer the conversation toward her or her family. “I think figuring out how to undo this”—she gestured between us—“will help us with Lord Arctos’s project. At least if we work together on it, we’ll remain on equal footing.”
I dipped my chin. She pushed back from the table, taking our empty plates to the kitchen to clean. She did so seamlessly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to use the soap and rag I had there. I only watched in fascination.
“Thank you for breakfast,” she said at last. “And for sharing about your family. I’ll let you take your siblings to school, and I’ll meet you at the library?”
“Sure,” I said, knowing she couldn’t see my nod.
Finishing the dishes, she gave me a final glance and slipped out the door. The truths I had shared didn’t stop the tug I felt as soon as she was out of sight.