Page 91 of A Whisper of Cinders

A smirk tugs at his lips and something tells me that it is his standard expression. The silver that adorns his ear flickers in the light as he turns his head to whisper something in the ear of the male next to him.

The other fae pushes him away and introduces himself as Zale. His upturned silver eyes hold an intense glare as if he can see right into my soul. Long braids frame his deep cool-toned bronze skin and a small septum ring adorns his nose.

Ami mingles in the conversation with Enver and Zale, but Aramis only has eyes for me. I look up at the ceiling, avoiding his gaze at all cost and notice something different about that too. What I thought where basic hanging lights have actually turned into flying orbs that cast a warm, golden hue over the dining area.

Realising staring at the ceiling might look a little odd, I turn my gaze down to the plate in front of me. The food looks and smells delicious, but so does the dessert in front of me.

It is a challenge not to look at him, the round glasses make him even hotter. And although I’ve never kissed before, I long for his lips on mine. And to think there had been an opportunity not once but twice? Please fucking save me.

“You know,” Ami drawls, popping her chin on her hand and breaking my dangerous line of thought. “For someone so punctual, you do have terrible timing.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, nothing,” she smirks, popping a small potato in her mouth. “Just making an observation.”

Aramis leans back in his chair, his fingers idly trace patterns into the condense of his glass. The same expression as his sister now rests upon his face. And when our eyes lock, the air between us crackles with things left unspoken.

His eyes lower, only for a second, but I know his attention is not on the plate in front of him. Before I can even think about it, I mirror the movement. It’s like a thread connects us and no matter how hard I pull, it won’t snap.

Aramis leans in, my fingers tighten around my fork while my other hand digs into the chair I’m sitting on. I try to think about something else, anything really. But it feels like I’m brainwashed or an addict, the only thought that consumes my head is —

“Ahem.”

The deliberate throat-clearing shatters the moment.

Amira’s aquamarine eyes shimmer with barely restrained amusement. “You know you’re not alone, right?” She waves a hand, holding a honeyed fig between her fingers. “But by all means, continue with whatever that was. It is very…entertaining.”

Heat floods my face so quickly I’m certain I’m glowing. I even see a few sparks flying around. I quickly take my napkin and wipe my mouth clean, trying to hide my embarrassment. But based on Ami's wink and Aramis trying his very best not to smile, I’m pretty sure they saw either way.

Deciding it might be wiser to draw my attention anywhere else, I listen to the conversation of the boys, who talk about some sort of game. I try to make sense of it, but I’m not familiar with sports and the only thing that I recognise is that it’s played with a ball.

“It's called Gleamrush,” Ami explains, who saw my confused expression. “It’s like football, but with a moving dynamic field, the ball is more like a magical unstable core and the players can also use magic to avoid the obstacles.”

“So nothing like football at all?”

She laughs. “No, not really. They have a game soon, we should watch together.”

“Sure, why not.”

“You’ll love it, my dearest brother is a very important — and very skilled — player, if I do say so myself. Aren’t you, Ari?”

“If you say so, sis.”

Watching Aramis get sweaty is a sight I’d love to see on repeat. And when I throw a quick, subtle glance at him, I notice he’s already watching, his lips curved in a sensual smirk.

Oh, I am in so much trouble. But maybe it is the good kind of trouble, the one that I desperately need.

We finish our meals, clean up our plates and leave the restaurant. I decide to go back to my room to read a little or maybe visit the library to do some research on anything I can find about fae, when a hand on my arm halts me, the little zip of energy I’m used to travels up my arm.

“Do you want to come with us? We’re going to Brugamere Village,” Ami asks, the rest of the group already making their way to the door that leads outside.

“Is that allowed?”

She gives me a soft smile that tells me she understands the question. “You don’t have to worry about those things around here, Mai, we can go wherever we want. Of course, there are some areas where you shouldn’t walk through alone, but other than that, you’re free.”

Freedom, such a fragile thing. Something I never had before. Or at least not since my stay at Anima. It’s why I’m not surprised there’s a lump in my throat and my eyes sting.

Ami gives my hand a squeeze and I quickly blink away the tears. “Come on, let’s go.”