Page 37 of Tides of Shadows

12

The following days, I wanted Aidenar to show more progress. His movements were still wild, filled with energy but lacking direction. I waited for him in the gallery. The air hung heavy with heat, and sunlight streamed through the tall windows, catching in swirling motes of dust.

He entered, smiling as always, but when his silver eyes met mine, his expression turned uneasy.

“Before we begin,” he said, walking closer, “I must make an official request.”

I raised an eyebrow, the corner of my mouth lifting in a curious smirk.

“Would you… refrain from threatening Lady Velena?”

I blinked, then burst out laughing. “You must be joking.”

“I wish I were.” He sighed theatrically, as if already weary of the subject. “She was truly distraught. I had to endure her whining for so long. Do you know what torment that is? No one shall ever give that time back to me.”

He said it with mock gravity, though a trace of amusement curled his lips.

“She’s the one who needled me,” I replied with a shrug. “As far as I’m concerned, she can be dead to me and I’d prefer it to remain that way.”

Aidenar rubbed the back of his neck. “I understand. She can be… jealous. But I had to make the formal request.”

I glanced up through my lashes, “Is she not jealous that you sleep with her friends?”

His grin turned roguish. “There’s nothing official between us, only our parents’ wishes. Besides…” He hesitated, as if weighing his words. “It wasn’t the brightest idea to… consort with them”

I lifted my hand to cover my face before he could continue. “Spare me the details, Cavareth.”

“I won’t lie, Jasmine had… sizable assets,” he said, “but one could not survive her company for long.”

“End this conversation, or I swear I’ll walk out,” I snapped, taking a step toward the door.

He laughed and raised his hands in mock surrender, standing ready for training. He had no idea what awaited him. I seized one of the old tomes and hurled it straight at him.

He barely dodged it in time and the book fluttered through the air, scattering pages. His grin faded, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty.

“What is wrong with you? I’ve stopped talking!” he shouted, bewildered.

I didn’t give him time. Another book flew his way. He deflected it deftly with his hand, as if he’d done it all his life.

“Is this some islander way of courting?”

I threw again. This time the book hit him squarely between the legs. He doubled over with a sharp breath, clutching himself.

“What in all hells?” he hissed through his teeth.

“Use your power to defend yourself!” I barked. “If you can’t block a book, how will you dodge an arrow?”

Another book sailed through the air. This time, he deflected it with a burst of wind. The tome spun past his head and crashed against the wall.

“Throw. One. More. And you’ll regret it,” he warned, still bent, his voice low and serious.

That did not stop me. I raised another tome, larger this time. He saw the motion, and in the span of a breath, he was at my side. His hand caught my wrist, his other arm circled my waist, pinning me in place.

He was close. So close that I felt his breath against my cheek, the scent of lavender and rosemary clinging to his skin.

“Raise another book,” he murmured near my face, “and I’ll lay you across my knee and spank you until you won’t know whether you hate it or crave it.”

I looked up at him, startled. Then smiled, wide and defiant.