Is she angry with Azula? Has something happened with the fellowship?
“But maybe you know that already,” she continues. “It seems you always know things before I do.”
My confusion deepens at the accusation in her voice.
“What are you referring to?” I ask.
The fire in the hearth crackles and pops in the silence stretching between us. Maeve’s brow furrows as she narrows her eyes.
“She told me how close I was to losing her recommendation. And she saidyouwere involved in the discussion.”
Oh. That feels like so long ago now, I’d almost forgotten that conversation—and my decision to withhold the information from Maeve.
I incline my head slightly. “Yes.”
More anger flutters through our connection, accompanied with a crackle of heat. It makes my burnt hand ache.
“So, you admit to knowing I could’ve lost it? Andnottelling me?”
Her words are sharp, damning.
How can I explain this?
“I didn’t wish to pressure you further,” I say. “At the time, your control was already—”
“Unstable?” she cuts in. “Dangerous?”
Her storm stirs between us. Despite me not having fed from her again, that connection still lingers there, still calls to me, still ties me to her.
And I wish I didn’t yearn for it as much as I do.
“I believed,” I say slowly, moving to step out from behind my desk, “that you needed time to prove yourself. Adding fear into the equation would not have served you.”
“So, you made the choice for me. Again. Just likeyou’rethe one who chose to stop feeding from me. You’re making choices about my life without even asking what I want.”
At the mention of feeding, my gaze flicks to the closed door, but I don’t hear anyone moving down the hall. I refocus on Maeve.
Beautiful, rageful Maeve.
“I am trying to protect you,” I say, keeping my voice low. “There are consequences to what we were doing. Permanent consequences. Ones that cannot be undone.”
For a brief moment, I consider telling her the rest: that fusing our blood bond permanently may alter the entire course of her life, may trap her in the overlap between a human lifespan and a vampire one. But I tighten my jaw before the words can come out.
Because I fear I know what she would say. She would choose it anyway. She would chooseme. And I cannot allow that. Not when she doesn’t truly understand what that choice would cost her.
“There are consequences to this too!” Her voice cracks, and she begins to cough. I move to reach for her, the action instinctual, but she steps back, coughing into her sleeve. When she’s done, she takes a few rough breaths, then shoots a glare at me. “There are consequences to distance and silence andlying.”
My brow furrows. “I did not lie,” I say, drawing myself up at the accusation.
“But you didn’t tell me the truth either.”
The words are sharp—because she’s right.
I withheld what I knew about her fellowship recommendation, and I continue to withhold information from her even now. But I must. Forher. Because if I tell her, if I place the full weight of this truth into her hands...
The air in my office feels thick and electrically charged, like a storm cloud could form on the ceiling at any moment. Finally, Maeve steps closer. Her proximity makes my hunger flare. I’ve been forcing myself to drink the blood from the blood bank, but it makes me feel ill and does nothing to satiate the desire I have for her.
“I trusted you,” she says. Her voice is softer now, trembling. And her red-rimmed eyes start to mist over with moisture. “Not just with the fellowship, but with my magic. With myheart.”
