Until he’s on fire to be the one in my arms.

That’s it, Gardnerian, I think, holding Trystan’s stare as I trace my fingers down Basyl’s spine and still lower. Basyl gives another throaty laugh and captures my mouth with his, our tongues finding each other, even as I keep my gaze locked with Trystan’s, rich with invitation. Toying with him.

Trystan’s welling power pulls in tight. He shoots me a look so scathing it could melt iron, then strides away.

A maelstrom of remorse rushes in as the sting of Trystan’s reaction reverberates.

I gently push Basyl away.

He tries to pull me back in. “Come here...”

I force a wan smile. “I have to go,” I say, suddenly unable to focus on Basyl’s beauty and willing ways and the achingly pleasurable tightening in my groin, my friend’s lighthearted desire so easy to fuel. Basyl’s a distraction and nothing more, both of us caught up in a breezy flirtation. Friends who enjoy teasing each other, but nothing deeper than that running between us.

But Trystan.

Conflict roars to life as I sound the Mage’s name in my mind.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, love,” I tell Basyl, kissing his cheek as he stages a pouting protest, caressing me one last time. I disentangle myself and set off at a brisk clip after Trystan.

Needing to find him as his guard, but also scared to face him.

The walls between us feeling increasingly paper-thin.

Trystan

Vothendrile’s knock on my door is uncharacteristically tentative, and I fight back the jealous urge to draw my wand and throw a bolt of lightning straight through the wood. My wand hand flexed into a fist, I yank the door open, cursing the lightning that shocks through my lines when I meet Vothe’s silver-flashing gaze.

Vothe’s wildly conflicted gaze.

Have I made your life difficult? I want to snarl at him. Is your own cruelty making you uncomfortable?

Good.

“Can I speak with you?” he asks.

My internal lightning spits fire as I glare at him. Wanting to drive him away. Wanting him to get this over with, whatever this is.

“Just say whatever it is you have to say,” I snap.

He hesitates, neck tight, like he’s got a storm caught in his throat. “Not here.” His gaze flits toward the hallway’s exit. “Can we take a walk, perhaps? Away from everyone?”

“Will they allow that?” I ask, my voice tight with sarcasm. “Since I’m such a threat to the Realm?” I avert my gaze from Vothe’s tall, magnificent form.