Page 79 of Awakened Ash and Alchemy

“Just talking,” Condorr said easily, though he’d shifted slightly, as if wary of an attack.

The silence stretched. Condorr didn’t move. Zarek didn’t blink.

Angela clutched her candy bar with her heart hammering. “Zarek—”

He turned to Condorr, his cold expression making Angela’s breath catch. “Patrol. Now.”

“Yes, Captain.” Condorr’s tone was carefully neutral. He nodded to Angela. “Miss Duboise.”

When Condorr was gone, Angela rounded on Zarek. “What was that? You’re glowing. Actually glowing.” She gestured at his staves. “Your staves are lit up like—”

“I’m aware. Where is your assistant?”

“Tamarr’s having a break from babysitting me. And Condorr was just being friendly. You know, he’s the only other guy without a gray beard down to his knees who’s bothered to talk to me that didn’t involve magick testing.” And she was despising the testing, feeling like some lab rat species no one had heard of before.

The growl came with a huff. Along with his stony expression, on a face with defined cheekbones, a strong jaw, and those sea-glass eyes that were boring into her with such intensity that she inadvertently licked her lips under that kind of attention.

Angela defensively crossed her arms. Was he jealous? “You’re acting like someone who’s never shared chocolate and a chat before. Like you’ve never given a gift to anyone.”

He sighed, closing his eyes, only to reopen them as his face softened in a way that took her breath away. His masculine beauty was both harsh and overwhelming in this small space.

Then his gaze settled on her again, and it was heavy, as if he had used his hands.

“No,” he mumbled. “I haven’t. I don’t do gifts.”

The raw vulnerability in his voice stopped her anger cold as the admission hung in the air between them.

Being who he was, with a touch that burned or drove people mad with his sight, of course people gave him a wide berth.

But she also understood that isolation. The countless double-looks she’d get from her mismatched eyes, the whispers about being the witch’s niece, always standing out for some unknown reason when all she wanted to do was blend in.

“That’s…” She elongated her neck, unsure how to finish that sentence. She felt that emptiness that hid between the heart and soul, and it was both hollow and heavy. She knew that feeling well.

It was loneliness.

He looked at her then, and his expression hardened. “Do not pity me,” he snapped.

“I wasn’t.” Was she? “It’s called empathy.” Because she knew what it felt like to be kept at arm’s length and to be the anomaly people whispered about. It made her heart ache for him in the most unexpected ways.

“Go back to your room, Angela. And if you prefer that brand of chocolate, or want anything from the mortal realm, write me a list and I’ll have some collected for you.”

“I don’t want any chocolate. Unless you want me the size of a house, which I don’t want. I prefer my own chocolate, thank you, like a guilt-free chocolate pudding.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s girl-math, you’re not meant to.”

He stopped and looked at her, as if stuck between anger and curiosity, unsure how to react.

“Hmph,” was all he said. And then he was gone, with the air shimmering and shifting.

“I really hate that disappearing act, Zarek.” And how he’d left her alone with a headache from trying to understand why a man who could literally burn things was threatened by a bar of chocolate. And who or what was he jealous over?

He couldn’t be attracted to her.

And she certainly wasn’t, couldn’t, and shouldn’t be attracted to him either—even if one minute he could be adorable, then terrifyingly intimidating the next.

Zarek told her he was following orders. That’s why she was here. That’s all.