37. Chapter Thirty-Seven

Gods above and below, my head was throbbing.

I groaned, silently cursing the Source for my idiotic reckless streak. I knew better than to stay out so late last night, and I certainly knew better than to down something like four or five glasses of honey whiskey. And I most definitely knew better than to have let a fourth-year Air Conduit with a mischievous smirk and certain proclivities take me back to his apartment last night.

And yet here we were.

I was exhausted, but truth be told, it was worth it. Despite my raging hangover and sore wrists, I had a good time last night… for the most part. Mason Park wasn’t exactly long-term relationship material, but he hadn’t held back in bed, which was refreshing. It had been awhile since anybody had tied me to a bedpost properly, and the man had some solid stamina. If only I didn’t spend half the night thinking about someone else.

Still, when I left Mason’s place this morning he thanked me for a good time, but made no indication that he wanted to pursue anything further—so the only real consequence I had to contend with over succumbing to my impulses was a bit of a headache, which I was attempting to resolve with a hearty breakfast.

As long as I could get rid of the dull ache between my temples before my exams this afternoon, we were golden. I would never confess it to Laurel, but the woman had a point—our little night out definitely helped take the edge off some nerves. Some, but not all.

“Late night?” Kieran asked, strolling up to my table at the café and snatching me from my various reveries and woes.

I hadn’t even told him where I’d be this morning. Stealthy bastard. I nodded, rubbing at my wrists absentmindedly before returning to my tea. Thankfully the ropes hadn’t left any marks behind.

“Color me shocked, Miss Asher,” Kieran clucked. “You little rebel. Don’t you have your entry exams today?”

That I did, though I was somewhat surprised that he remembered. Sure, he’d been helping me train—but in the grand scheme of things, my impulse to test into a course above my skill level was hardly important. Not compared to the things Kieran had on his plate.

Though the Arcane Studium didn’t have many exams in the classical sense, in order to take upper level courses where more advanced arcana would be used, you had to test into them. It was mostly a safety measure, ensuring that ambitious minds weren’t overextended… preventing accidental blood magick wherever possible.

Apparently, it was possible to try so hard to pull from your own Resonance, that you could inadvertently draw upon your own blood for power instead of your aether. It was exceptionally dangerous, and exceptionally illegal.

There were several other advanced courses I wanted to take next quarter that required testing besides Physical Arcana, so my afternoon would consist of putting my arcane abilities on display before a few of the High Scholars.

“Which is exactly why I was out and misbehaving last night. I had to take the edge off somehow,” I shrugged.

He plucked a cluster of grapes off my plate, leaning back in his chair casually.

“I know the feeling,” he said with a knowing smirk.

“I’m sure you do,” I replied airily.

Again, I attempted to drown out certain memories of last night—namely the fact that it was Kieran who I had been thinking about when I finally got off.

I know the feeling.

I rolled my eyes. If the rumors were to be believed, the man was a sweet-talking sex god in the bedroom. I could confirm the sweet-talking to be true, intimately familiar with his silver tongue, but as far as his prowess in bed… I flicked the thought out of my mind. He had occupied far too much space there as of late.

Though Kieran and I were pretty damn comfortable around one another at this point, we both knew better than to cross that line. We were getting pretty godsdamned good at dancing on the edge of it, though. Always teasing and testing the boundaries between our firmly established platonic friendship. Constantly flirting with the sexual tension that I don’t think either of us could deny still existed.

It was kind of fun, in a torturous sort of way. I was a masochist, after all.

“I’m sure you’ll do well today, Ark. You’ve trained hard, you’re already much stronger. Don’t be nervous.”

It wasn’t really nerves, so much as a little bit of stage fright. There was a distinction between those two feelings, at least for me.

“I’m not nervous,” I replied, brushing a few muffin crumbs off my sleeve.

Kieran rolled his eyes.

“Ah, right. Not nervous, you’re just chomping at the bit to show off in front of the scholars. Can’t get enough of that spotlight.”

Sarcasm dripped off of every word, but his ability to get inside my head was still uncanny.

“What did I tell you about reading my mind, Kieran?”

“That it is an alarmingly attractive trait, and I should do it more often?”

I groaned at the sight of his winning smile, rubbing at my temples for dramatic effect. It was far too early in the morning for flirtatious Kieran. I wasn’t even fully awake yet.

“What? I thought women were supposed to like not having to explain themselves,” he teased, plucking another grape off my plate.

“Sexism? At this hour? Gods, you are so very irritating.”

“I aim to be irritating regardless of gender, actually. I’m an equal opportunity prick.”

“At least you’re a self-aware prick,” I grumbled. “And have you considered getting your own breakfast?”

“I could, yeah. But you don’t like red grapes. Wouldn’t want to be wasteful,” he replied, popping said grape into his mouth with a wink.

Of course he would remember that.

“So what are your plans today, Captain?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” he started, as I yawned and began to pull my hair back in a ponytail.

He paused for a moment, another grape between his fingers as his eyes narrowed, zeroing in on my neck.

“Ah, so it was that sort of late night, huh?”

“Wait, what?” I started, before realizing that Mason must’ve left a mark or two. “Oh. Gods, I should probably wear my hair down to the exams, then, huh?”

“Probably,” Kieran replied dryly.

I raised a brow at him, but said nothing. Was he… jealous? There was no fucking way.

The decision to keep the friendship platonic was a mutual one, and besides—that man had absolutely no room to talk. Though it seemed to hit him in waves and phases without any particular rhyme or reason, I knew damn well that there were weeks where he was taking a different stranger to bed every godsdamned night. And I’d seen plenty of similar marks on his neck in the past.

“Anyone of interest?” he asked casually.

“In what regard?”

“I mean, are you seeing them again? Do I need to look into him… or her?”

I scoffed. “Him, and no. I don’t plan to see him again, I was just blowing off some steam.”

“Considering you’re still wound up like a top, I might be able to offer the poor guy some feedback on his form,” Kieran laughed.

“Excuse you,” I retorted. “His form was perfectly fine, I’m just a little anxious. You know as well as I do that this is going to be a tough course to test into.”

“If he’d fucked you properly, that anxiety would be long gone,” Kieran argued.

“Please. It does not work like that.”

He looked at me incredulously for a moment before his smile turned mocking.

“Aww, have you never experienced a proper afterglow? That’s terribly unfortunate. We’re going to have to find you someone better in bed. Broaden your horizons.” he paused, a wicked gleam in his eye. “I could call in some favors.”

“Please shut up, Kier. It’s too early for this,” I groaned, head throbbing. I wasn’t sure if that was the hangover, or this pain in the ass friend of mine who always seemed to show up from the Shadows.

“Just tell me who it was so that I know who to avoid in the future,” he said with a smirk. “I do so loathe wasting my time on a bad lay.”

“I’m not sure if Mason even swings both ways,” I replied before immediately clapping my hand over my mouth.

“Mason, eh?” Kieran snickered. “And would that be his first name, or surname?”

Oh, godsdamnit. He could do way too much with that single scrap of information.

“Don’t you dare,” I hissed.

“What?” he asked, widening his eyes with feigned innocence.

“Leave that poor man alone,” I warned. “I mean it, Kieran. It’s one thing to stalk me, but leave my one-night stands alone.”

“Sure, sure,” he replied, still smirking. “So what are your plans after the exams?”

“Round two, of course. Laurel and I are going to hit The Clover again for some music and dancing,” I explained.

“And booze, I’d presume,” Kieran added.

“Naturally. Their honey whiskey is divine.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Little Conduit,” he said.

“You know, I’m not sure that really narrows anything down, Kieran.”

His oddly sharp incisors gleamed as he gave me a wicked grin, popping another grape in his mouth before winking.

“Exactly.”