Page 67 of Spark of Sorcery
“Do I smell?” I lift up the neckline of my shirt and sniff. I’m pretty sure I smell okay. Nothing like Odessa, who probably owns bottles upon bottles of perfume gifted to her by her numerous admirers. But I don’t smell bad.
“I think Dray has made it clear that you smell good.”
“Do you think I smell good?” I ask. Am I fishing for compliments? Possibly. Thorne says he’d do anything for me and yet he’s never expressed any sort of admiration for me at all. In fact, all his body language has ever suggested is that he loathes me.
He doesn’t answer.
“You really confuse me,” I say, tracing the lines on the stone with my forefinger.
“You wouldn’t be alone.”
“Thorne Cadieux,” I say in frustration, “why do you say you’d do anything for me when you clearly don’t like me? In fact, I suspect you despise me. Is it to do with this mate thing?” I shake my head. “Is it out of obligation or–”
“I like you.”
“You do?” I say, those butterflies fluttering again. I don’t understand how these men do this to me. Why that simple confession has the blood stirring in my veins.
He stares at me.
I let out a little grunt of frustration and pull the blanket from the bed, wrapping it around my shoulders as cool air penetrates through the rafters.
“You’re cold,” he states.
“Always.” I sigh. “You know there’s snow on the ground half the year back in Slate Quarter. It’s hard to feel warm. I was hoping the academy would be a little better, and then I ended up in this room.” I’m waffling but it’s better than sitting in awkward silence for the evening.
Thorne, to my surprise, moves from his spot at the door and strides towards the small fireplace. He hunches over his knees, examining it for a few minutes, then clicks his fingers. A fire roars into life, bright red flames dancing in place and a heat permeating through the room immediately.
“Hmmm,” I murmur, “that is nice.” I close my eyes and let the heat play across my face.
When I open my eyes again, he’s peering over his shoulder at me.
“I have an idea,” he says, “bring the stone here.”
Almost immediately I understand. The fire. The stone. Of course. Why hadn’t I thought of that before? If it really is a firestone, maybe fire is somehow important to it.
I climb off the bed with the stone in my hands and approach the fire, as I do Thorne steps away. I shake my head and kneel down in front of the fire. This close the heat is intense and I can hear the flames hissing and crackling as they twist through the air.
“Do you think I should put it in the fire?” I ask him.
“I don’t know. Let’s try in front to begin with.”
I rest the stone before the hearth and immediately it starts to glow a dark orange.
“Oh my gosh,” I gasp with excitement. “Can you see that?”
“Yes,” he says, bending a little closer. “Is it cracking some more?”
“Yes,” I say, “yes, it is.”
I tip my head back to meet his gaze and find his face mere inches from mine. The closest we’ve ever been.
“Oh,” I murmur, feeling his magic tickle against my skin, seeing the dark colors of his eyes, seeing the wetness of his lips. My stomach spins.
His eyes flick from the stone to mine and his pupils blossom wide, swallowing up what little color there was so I’m peering into nothing but darkness.
I want him to kiss me. I want to kiss him. I don’t know why, what power is propelling me to want this, whether we truly are mates and fate is dragging me towards him, but deep inside me I know I can’t have it. Thorne Cadieux doesn’t want it and I know what it’s like to be forced into things. I won’t be that person.
I won’t touch him unless he wants me to.
