If these people had a bone to pick with the House of Embers, there were other young Conduits that made more sense as potential targets.
“I think so, but certain things aren’t adding up here. We’re missing something, still. We’ll need to debrief with Hanjae in the morning, regardless. Their vitriol towards the Aetherborne is concerning. And if this escalates, our student body could be at risk when they travel.”
Jeremiah and Hans both nodded gravely.
After an exchange of the remaining details, the rest of the ride home was silent as we chewed on the implications of what we’d just witnessed.
By the time I made it back home for the night, it was well past two in the morning. That didn’t do much to quell my hopes that a small, celestial fox might be waiting at my door, but alas. My front porch step was empty, and I was far too tired to be bothered to find a less satisfying distraction.
I found release by my own hand several times over at the thought of pale, freckled skin exposed, golden eyes gone wide and wild, of smudged kohl and tear tracks. Once I had spent myself to total exhaustion, silencing those racing thoughts, I let the oblivion of sleep take me for the night.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Arken
Gods above and below, my head wasthrobbing.
I groaned, silently cursing the Source for my idiotic reckless streak. I knew better than to stay out so late last night, and I certainly knew better than to down something like four or five glasses of honey whiskey. And Imost definitelyknew better than to have let a fourth-year Air Conduit with a mischievous smirk and certain proclivities take me back to his apartment last night.
And yethere we were.
I was exhausted, but truth be told, it was worth it. Despite my raging hangover and sore wrists, I had a good time last night… for the most part. Mason Park wasn’t exactly long-term relationship material, but he hadn’t held back in bed, which was refreshing. It had been awhile since anybody had tied me to abedpost properly, and the man had some solid stamina. If only I didn’t spend half the night thinking about someone else.
Still, when I left Mason’s place this morning he thanked me for a good time, but made no indication that he wanted to pursue anything further—so the only real consequence I had to contend with over succumbing to my impulses was a bit of a headache, which I was attempting to resolve with a hearty breakfast.
As long as I could get rid of the dull ache between my temples before my exams this afternoon, we were golden. I would never confess it to Laurel, but the woman had a point—our little night out definitely helped take the edge off some nerves.Some, but not all.
“Late night?” Kieran asked, strolling up to my table at the café and snatching me from my various reveries and woes.
I hadn’t even told him where I’d be this morning. Stealthy bastard. I nodded, rubbing at my wrists absentmindedly before returning to my tea. Thankfully the ropes hadn’t left any marks behind.
“Color me shocked, Miss Asher,” Kieran clucked. “You little rebel. Don’t you have your entry exams today?”
That I did, though I was somewhat surprised that he remembered. Sure, he’d been helping me train—but in the grand scheme of things, my impulse to test into a course above my skill level was hardly important. Not compared to the things Kieran had on his plate.
Though the Arcane Studium didn’t have many exams in the classical sense, in order to take upper level courses where more advanced arcana would be used, you had to test into them. It was mostly a safety measure, ensuring that ambitious minds weren’t overextended… preventing accidental blood magick wherever possible.
Apparently, it was possible to try so hard to pull from your own Resonance, that you could inadvertently draw upon yourown blood for power instead of your aether. It was exceptionally dangerous, and exceptionally illegal.
There were several other advanced courses I wanted to take next quarter that required testing besides Physical Arcana, so my afternoon would consist of putting my arcane abilities on display before a few of the High Scholars.
“Which is exactly why I was out and misbehaving last night. I had to take the edge off somehow,” I shrugged.
He plucked a cluster of grapes off my plate, leaning back in his chair casually.
“I know the feeling,” he said with a knowing smirk.
“I’m sure you do,” I replied airily.
Again, I attempted to drown out certain memories of last night—namely the fact that it wasKieranwho I had been thinking about when I finally got off.
I know the feeling.
I rolled my eyes. If the rumors were to be believed, the man was a sweet-talking sex god in the bedroom. I could confirm the sweet-talking to be true, intimately familiar with his silver tongue, but as far as his prowess in bed… I flicked the thought out of my mind. He had occupied far too much space there as of late.
Though Kieran and I were pretty damn comfortable around one another at this point, we both knew better than to cross that line. We were getting pretty godsdamned good at dancing on the edge of it, though. Always teasing and testing the boundaries between our firmly establishedplatonicfriendship. Constantly flirting with the sexual tension that I don’t think either of us could deny still existed.
It was kind of fun, in a torturous sort of way. I was a masochist, after all.