Chapter 9

A rhythmic wash of heat across her shoulder gradually brought Dae to waking. She didn’t move, simply let her sleep-fuzzy mind clear at its own pace. It was back to raining again outside, the gray sky offering diffused light into her room. Morning, though light enough for Dae to gather at a glance that they were well past sunrise. She’d slept late, by her standards.

The puff of warmth, of breath, whispered over her bare skin again. She smiled to herself. At least she wasn’t alone in having slept in. Nice to have had a reason. And company. Her heart did a little flippy motion in her chest. He’d stayed. She’d mentally prepared to find him gone in the morning, but he hadn’t.

They lay on their sides, his head mostly on her pillow. The even pattern of his breathing told Dae that her masked paramour was still asleep, and she was loath to disturb him. Their one night was over, but what could a few more minutes hurt? A little longer to enjoy the perfect fiction they’d created.

He sighed, the exhalation causing a ticklish sensation across her skin. A lock of his long hair had fallen onto her shoulder, sliding along with each breath.

Gently, Dae lifted it between her fingers. So silky, so…

Dae blinked, hard. The last vestiges of sleep scattered from her brain. Because the strands of hair in her hand were blond. Unmistakably not dark. Pale, pale blond, of the sort that even the dark of her room at night could not have hidden. Rhellian blond.

She jerked upright, startling her bedmate awake as she whipped around.

“ Ezzyn?” Dae snatched the covers up to her chin.

He sat up, eyes opening and closing in exaggerated blinks as his mind caught up.

But yes, definitely Ezzyn-godsdamned-Sor’vahl. In her bed. The silver and black mask he’d worn the night before had fallen off, as had hers, the temporary adhesion charm ending while they slept. She grabbed it, squinting at the embroidered satin. Though she wasn’t skilled at all in light magic or body work, she was proficient enough a mage to recognize the traces left behind by the faded alteration charm.

She brandished the mask in his direction. “You wore a glamour?”

Ezzyn heaved a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Knew it wouldn’t last the night. Shit.”

Dae sputtered, unsure of where to start with the litany of complaints clamoring in her head. She’d slept with Ezzyn. Gods all break. Every niggling doubt, each tiny moment of recognition, familiarity jarring her thoughts, all of them ran back through her mind. His mannerisms. His voice, how it had sounded off. As if he’d been faking it. Now she knew why. His eyes—the glamour hadn’t touched them. Gods, she was a fool. Should’ve seen through it. All it had taken was a mask and a change of hair—color and a little additional length. It was still long, now shrunk back to mid-chest. Throw in some low light and he’d had an easy time of pulling off the farce.

“Listen, Anadae, I—”

“You knew,” she accused. She pointed at their masks. “You knew it was me.”

He shrugged. “I … yes. I managed to figure it out. Such a sleuth, am I.”

Dae tried to recall what they’d talked about at the social. Not much, because they’d only had moments before Brint arrived. Before the gossip started, and Ezzyn—glamoured Ezzyn—had inquired. It had all seemed so innocent. Harmless. The idle curiosity of a stranger.

Her eyes narrowed. “You asked me about him. Brint. Was it fun? Having a little test of your own.”

Ezzyn winced. “I apologize. Not one of my better moments, I admit.”

“You’re such an ass.” Dae pressed her face into her hands. “I can’t believe you kissed me.”

“No,” Ezzyn scoffed. “You kissed me first.”

She glared at him.

He held up a hand. “I simply offered my assistance.” His gaze flickered down. “Guess you needed me to save you after all.”

Belatedly, Dae followed his eyeline to realize that she’d let the covers slip, exposing the tips of her breasts. She hiked the sheet back up to her armpits.

He laughed, a short, smug exhale of amusement. “I think we’re a bit past that, don’t you, sweetheart?”

The falsity of his chosen endearment grated in her ears.

“Get out,” she said through clenched teeth, cheeks aflame.

He moved, unhurried, swinging his legs to the side of the bed. Stood and stretched as he cast about for his clothes. Completely unbothered by his nakedness or the morning interests of his dick. Which Dae did not give more than a cursory glance. Nor did she linger on the long, sculpted lines of his arms as he drew his shirt back on.

“Just so you know,” he said, tugging on his trousers, “I would’ve been gone hours ago, but someone likes to cling and hold hands.”

“I do not.”

His shoulders lifted in a noncommittal motion. “Grip like a vice.” He sat at her desk to pull on his boots. “If not Avenor, you sure you’re not missing someone back home? Or am I just special?”

She gave him her most withering glare. “Do you snuggle all of your one-night stands, or was I just special?”

He looked discomfited by her statement about his bedroom habits, which made her feel triumphant. A state he was quick to quash.

“Maybe it was easy to reciprocate what I already received.” He sneered at her, eyes roving over the rumpled sheets. “I didn’t hear any complaints.”

She flushed, embarrassment and rage blurring together. Everflow … fuck, he’d have it over her forever. She’d told him he was big. Never mind that he’d been a generous lover the previous night. The way he’d looked at her, his touch, the pleasure had seemed very much shared at the time. How he’d called Brint’s inattention a crime. Words and actions that made her feel desirable again. Had, at any rate.

“If only I could believe anything that I heard last night,” she said, her contempt plain.

Ezzyn went still, boots on, but he made no move to stand. He regarded her, something odd and serious in his expression. He shook his head, mocking smile back in place. “Speaking plainly doesn’t tend to be a weakness for me.”

“More like a fault.” Dae rubbed her temples. “In all that talking last night, you still managed to omit your name. Why?”

He gave another careful shrug. “You did tell me to ‘cure myself of our old familiarities.’ Perhaps I took the suggestion to heart.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Ezzyn threw his hands up. “Is it so unthinkable? You’ve spent the last decade cooped up in Central in an unrequited whatever-the-fuck-your-deal-with-Avenor-was. Am I to believe you lived the life of a maiden?”

She made a disgusted noise. “I had a rather public engagement.”

His expression soured. “Of course. How could I forget? Anadae Helm would never bring such scandal down upon her family name.”

There it was. That contempt, the old anger. She’d seen a flash of it before, when they’d run into each other on her first day in the Valley. Again when he’d challenged her reluctance to take the seminar. He might’ve been willing to sleep with her, but to know her? Admit that maybe he didn’t know her as well as he thought? That five years later she could outgrow whatever box he still kept the memory of her in? No, Ezzyn still dug in his heels at that.

And yet he’d kissed her. Done it with a fervor that left her stunned. He’d stayed, and irrespective of his claims that she held onto him in her sleep—a claim about which she held doubts—that had come after. Later. When she’d asked, she’d seen him hesitate. Because the bastard had known what was coming. Even if he’d planned to run out in the night, he must have known there was a chance that the charade would blow up in his face. A chance he’d decided to take with her.

Dae looked at her hands and curled them into soft fists. “Why, Ezzyn? Really, why?”

He inhaled, held the breath as he looked up at the ceiling. He sighed, head tilting as he met her gaze. “I guess I just thought I needed to get it out of my system.”

Dae threw her pillow at him. “You think I’m something you need to ‘get out of your system?’ You bastard.”

“Hold—hold on!” He caught the second pillow before it hit him in the face. “Poor choice of words.”

“Does that even work?”

A wry laugh in response. “I’ll let you know.”

“Get out.”

“I’m going.” He placed the pillow back on her bed.

Before he opened the door, Dae blew out a frustrated breath and put her head in her hand.

Ezzyn glanced back, a question in the set of his brow.

Dae briefly looked at him, then away. “Do I need to worry about this?”

“About what, precisely?” Ezzyn said, tone neutral.

“People finding out,” she snapped. “About last night.”

He stared at her in silence. It was only a moment, yet multiple emotions flashed across his face before settling into something cold and stiff. Tainted with wry disappointment. “Of course you would be concerned about appearances. No need for damage control.” He gave her a flat smile.

“You’re practically a professor,” she said. “My concern isn’t unwarranted.”

He inclined his head in the smallest of concessions. “You’ve nothing to worry about from me.”

The door closed firmly behind him.