Page 86 of Awakened Ash and Alchemy

Zarek lifted his gaze to the falling water, which was not a structured spray.

It was raining.

Cold rain. Falling as if from a cloud.

And all of their protective wards were intact.

Zarek turned and walked down the corridor with long, controlled strides.

“Where are you going?” Martar called after him.

“To speak with Angela,” Zarek replied without looking back. “And to find a way to stop this.”

Behind him, the professor squeaked out, full of nerves, “My Lords, if she has done this, and we cannot counter it—it is an uncontrolled power that none of us can—”

“Professor,” Gellar cut in smoothly to contain the panic. “It is raining. Dismiss your students. We will determine the danger of this incident.”

Even if it was only rain, it was a magick that had breached the wards that protected the Keep. And that was what made it dangerous.

In the blink of an eye, Zarek reached Angela’s door, and did what had become a habit whenever near her—removing his gloves. Normally he only removed them when he was alone in his chambers, so as to not to burn anyone. But with her, even the idea of a mere brush of her skin, the touch of her fingers or her dainty wrist, without the feel of leather, was becoming a need that even appeased the Claiming.

He lifted his hand to knock, but the door opened before his knuckles touched the wood.

Angela stood there in a rich plum gown, the color did wonders with her eyes and complexion, with her hair damp from the rain.

For a moment, he forgot why he was there.

He had seen realms that were universes within universes, but he’d never seen such raw beauty like hers, it bent the layers that caged his soul. Only then came the reminder that he was the darkness that brought the storm that stole her smile when she spotted him. It was more than the Claiming, which stirred like flame under skin. This was deeper, beneath the ribs. He couldn’t name it, as he’d never felt this before.

Until the dragon stirred, and a single word climbed with the heat of his magick seeking hers.

Mine.

He swallowed hard and stepped back to contain it. The staves on his leathers did not flare. They never did when he was alone with her. Only when he was with others, which was as annoying and revealing as an unwanted blush.

“Zarek,” she said, surprised. “Aren’t you in a meeting?”

“There is a problem with your classroom.”

“The rain?” She brightened with a smile, so wide and bright, accompanied by a giggle; it warmed his chest in a way that had nothing to do with magic. All from a sound he found oddly addictive.

“How cool was that? I got out of class and was just about to find a way outside. I’m allowed, right? You said I’m not your—”

“Yes. No. You’re not a prisoner.” He didn’t know how he could prove that to her. Or how to explain the inexplicable pull urging him to close the distance between them and trap her lips with his to taste that sweet mouth of hers. It didn’t help when her warm, honeyed scent was like sugar stirred into warmed oats with pear and apple, making it both seductive and comforting all at once, like home.

What spell is this?

“Great. Where’s the door?” She brushed past him into the corridor. “Six days inside stone walls and lectures that feel like high school all over again, and I’m over it. I know it’s part of the treaty, but just give me the textbooks. I’ll read them. But first, I need some fresh air, so please point me to the nearest exit sign.”

He caught her hand before she got any farther. Relishing the feel of her soft skin and the warmth of her fingertips, that holding her hand had become his sanctuary.

Is this the Claiming or me?

“Angela,” he said carefully, even though there was more gravel in his tone. He stepped closer, lowering his voice as the walls had ears. “Did you cause the rain?”

“What?” She shared a laugh, so genuine it danced down the corridor. “I can’t do that. You know I can’t.”

He searched her face. There was no deception there. No flicker of guilt. And he’d know if there was by the connection they shared from the Claiming.