Page 21 of Evergreen

“I know you didn’t,” I nodded. “I won’t tell you it’s okay, because it’s not. But I know it was an accident.” My fingers slid across the bark until they touched his. “And the cutting survived. It’ll recover in time.”

Cass was quiet for a long moment, his hand still pressed against the bark under mine. I could feel the warmth radiating through his skin, the way his magic was still humming through the connection, dancing with the ancient power of the tree.

“So what happens now?” he asked finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I destroyed months of your work. How does that just... get fixed?”

I turned to look at him and saw the weight of guilt and shame written across his features. It was strange, seeing him like this. Without the anger and defensiveness that usually armored him.

“It gets fixed the same way everything gets fixed,” I said slowly. “With time. With effort. With the willingness to do better.” I paused, considering my next words. “And maybe with understanding why you did it in the first place.”

His jaw clenched. “Because I’m a fuck-up. Because I wanted to impress people who don’t matter. Because my magic is out of control and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Your magic isn’t out of control,” I said, and I meant it. “It’s just... untamed. There’s a difference.” I kept my hand where it was, still touching the bark near his. “Weather magic is chaotic by nature. It feeds on storms and chaos and wild energy. But that doesn’t mean it can’t be directed. Can’t be shaped into something purposeful instead of just destructive.”

“How would you know?” he asked, but there was less bite to it than usual. “You’re a plant guy. Your magic probably just grows things nicely and heals stuff.”

I couldn’t help but smile at that. “My magic has nearly destroyed the grove more times than I can count. Dryads are connected to the earth, but that connection can be violent and unpredictable. When I was younger, I couldn’t even control my own growth. I nearly choked out half the grove because I was so angry about something my father said.” I turned to face him fully, my hand finally dropping from the tree. “I learned to control mine, and I know you can too, Sparks. It just takes time.”

Cass was staring at me now, and I could see something shifting behind those green eyes. Something like hope, maybe. Or at least the possibility of hope.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” he admitted.

“Then I’ll teach you,” I said, the words coming out before I’d really thought them through. “If you want. We’re going to be working together for the rest of the semester, anyway. Might as well make it productive.”

“You’d do that? After what I did?”

“I’d do it because of what you are doing now,” I corrected. “Because you’re here, putting in the work, trying to make it right. And because I think there’s more to you than this grumpy facade you put on.” I stared at him for a long moment. “Why do you act so grumpy all the time?”

Cass was quiet for a long moment, and I watched as he wrestled with something internal. His jaw worked, his free hand clenching and unclenching at his side. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely audible.

“Because if I act like this, people don’t expect anything from me,” he said quietly. “If I’m difficult and angry and impossible to deal with, then when I fuck up, it’s not a surprise. It’s just... Cass being Cass.”

I felt something twist in my chest at that admission. I understood that kind of armor better than I wanted to admit. I’d worn my own version of it for years. I was always the nice one, the perfect student, always doing what was expected, never stepping out of line.

“That’s a lonely way to live,” I said gently.

“Yeah, well.” He shrugged, but there was no real bite to it. “It’s easier than the alternative.”

“Which is?”

“Letting people see that I actually care about shit. That I want things. That I’m terrified of disappointing everyone all the time.” He looked away from me, his gaze drifting toward the ancient trees surrounding us. “My parents have spent my entire life quietly telling me I’m not good enough. Not smart enough, not disciplined enough, not the right kind of witch. Every single time I’m proud of something I’ve done, they just seem like they don’t care. So I figured, fuck it. If I’m going to disappoint them anyway, I might as well do it on my own terms.”

I nodded slowly, understanding more than I probably should have. But Cass just shook his head, turning his back to me completely.

“Sorry. Nobody wants to hear my sob story,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

I reached out, grabbing him by the shoulder and turning him to face me once more. “No. I wanted to know,” I replied. “That’s why I asked.”

“Why?” he said, those beautiful green eyes of his staring up at me. “Why do you give a shit?”

Instead of answering him, I did something I never thought I’d do in a million years. I leaned down and kissed him.

Chapter 10

Cass

There was a strange jolt through my body when Linden’s lips connected with mine. It was electric, intense, and reminded me so much of the things I felt when I was trying to conjure up a storm. But instead of that roiling, chaotic feeling that usually came with the storms, I just felt… peace.

And so I leaned into it. I pressed back, my arms going around his neck before I could stop myself. I opened my lips, beckoning him in. He took the bait easily, his tongue dancing against mine. For one brief moment, everything else in the world fell aside. The only thing that existed was me, Linden, and this kiss filling the January night with a heat I didn’t know was possible.