Page 79 of Our Radiant Embers

“Get just a tad more stingy with your compliments and you’ll turn into my dad.”

“Uh.” I levelled him with a flat stare. “Unless your family is a lot more messed up than even I think—doubtful.”

Another laugh, softer this time as he glanced away and then back at me. “Fair point.”

“Yeah.” It felt like each time I looked at him, it got harder to stay away. I should, though. Shouldn’t I?

‘I’m no one’s secret. Not even yours.’

But maybe the lines I’d drawn were just lines in the sand. Maybe they were meant to be washed away by the incoming tide.

“So,” I said after a beat that was measured by the distance between one wave and the next. “Turning thirty tomorrow, huh?”

Adam sipped from his wine, his profile edged in bronze. Resignation coloured his voice. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Why is this such a big deal in your family?” I drew the blanket tighter around me. “No one in mine cared when I turned thirty last December. I mean, sure—you’ve met my siblings, so of course there was teasing because they think they’re a lot funnier than they are.”

“In their defence,” Adam said, “they actually are a bit funny. They’re not giving Ricky Gervais a run for his money, granted, but they’d rock an open stage night at some low-key pub.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve been to one of those.”

“A handful. Gale has some musician friends.” Adam’s smile reduced his eyes to squinty slits. “Problem is I don’t like beer, but it’s not the place for wine. So I always end up ordering whatever ale sounds reasonably fruity.”

“How isn’t it blatantly obvious to everyone that you’re one hundred percent gay?”

Adam tucked a laugh into the folds of his blanket as a seagull sailed over our heads, destination anywhere.

“As for my family…” Adam ran a finger along the rim of his wine glass. “My dad was twenty-nine when they had me, my mum twenty-seven. My aunt and uncle were both twenty-nine when they had Christian. Cassandra is thirty, I’ll be thirty tomorrow, and we’re not even married yet.”

“Times change,” I told him, and he shook his head with a rueful sigh.

“Not in my family.”

“Well, they don’t own you. It’s your life, Adam. I know you feel responsible, but there’s a limit.” What was I even trying to achieve? I knew he wouldn’t suddenly change his mind and decide that he was done playing pinball to his father’s expectations.

“Of course they don’t, no.” Adam’s gaze drifted towards the horizon. “But I’m the only powerful mage of my generation, and that implies a certain responsibility.”

“You make it seem like something you should apologise for.”

He hesitated. “Not like…Not exactly. I just wonder sometimes whether me being born with all the power was why the others got short-changed.”

“That’s a load of crap, and you know it.” I softened my tone. “Sure, yes, it’s quite often that the firstborn of a generation is the most powerful—but not always, and either way, that’s hardly your fault.”

“I know. I know.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “But it would be easier if at least it wasn’t quite such a big gap. Like with Cassandra and her brothers, they’re weaker than she is, yeah, but they’re still more powerful than Gale and my cousins combined. I mean, the youngest is almost at Nova-level, like upper-scale Sun. And the other is a Blaze, so at least he’s not…He’s not a Spark.”

I shouldn’t have brought it up. The day had been beautiful and easy, and here I’d gone and ruined the mood by dragging family baggage into it.

“So Nathaniel Hartley is a Sun?” I asked lightly. “Laurie’s a fan.”

“Thought she’s into Jasper Ashton?”

“She’s capable of multitasking.”

“Is she?” Adam’s face brightened, if only a little. “Nathaniel is cute, I guess. A bit shy, though—don’t think he’d be any match for your sister. Plus, Cassandra thinks he’s gay, although I’m not so sure.”

“Cute, huh?” I asked, and no, I wasn’t jealous. That would be ridiculous.

“He’s twenty.” Adam made it sound like an obvious disqualifier. “Also, not my type.”

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