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THE LAST THING I EXPECTED to see when I walked down Seventeenth Street was Matlock Adenolfi. I nearly tripped and fell when I was instantaneously paralyzed. I always knew how powerful Matlock was, but this reaction was new. My traitorous body freezing at the sight of his tall, muscular physique. His short, dark hair and ruggedly handsome face reminded me just how much I both adored and loathed the man.
I forced myself to move quickly before he saw me. I stepped around a thick oak tree planted neatly in a break on the sidewalk to give the streets more of a suburban feel. The trees adapted well, though they weren’t fans of being uprooted and deposited in the middle of an urban area just to get some green splashing against the steel grey.
The magic realm was advancing both in population growth and technology, which meant buildings were starting to get taller, architecture was getting sleeker, and individuality was falling by the wayside. The trees were a way to remind us of our roots.
So, to speak.
But regardless of why the tree was planted there, I was glad to have a place to hide. Hopefully, he hadn’t seen me. I might have made a spectacle of myself keeling over, then bolting behind the tree. But besides an elderly couple who sneered at me, I don’t think anyone else noticed.
“Genevieve?”
Of course.
I rolled my eyes, glancing up at the sky. Why was I not surprised? It would seem the goddess was not smiling on me today. Probably because I’d missed the last few Sundays of Morning Ritual.
Oh, well.
Religion was on its way out anyway.
I cleared my throat and stepped out from behind the tree, glancing at the ground as though I’d lost something. Other than my mind, of course.
“You looking for something?”
I didn’t notice until now, but Matlock was with someone – an older man in his early forties with short, brown hair combed to the side. He was one of the Council members.
My heart started to thud against my chest and my palms started to perspire. I didn’t like being nervous, and the Council always sparked that reaction in me. Their presence made me feel as though I had done something wrong, even though I hadn’t.
At least, I didn’t think I had. You never knew with the Council. They changed the rules at the drop of a hat.
“Just my earring,” I said.
I forced my eyes to focus on the cement, even though I knew I wasn’t going to find anything. Hopefully, neither of them would notice my hands shaking. Although, if they did, I’d blame it on the cold. I was only in a light summer dress with no sleeves, made of thin, worn material. It was still September, but Fall was fast approaching. A chill lingered in the air even after the sun burned the morning away.
“You mean the one right here?” Without warning, Matlock stepped closer to me, brushed my long, blonde hair back and tugged gently on my earlobe.
If my skin could sizzle, it would have. Not an experience I wished to entertain.
I didn’t want to react to Matlock, to his touch. It brought back memories that I desperately wanted to forget. Memories of us together, sneaking off and making love or holding hands. Talking for hours on end. Stolen glances. Swollen lips. In that single touch, the emotions that came with it were too much for me.
I flinched, trying to ignore the way my skin clawed at me to get closer to him. I suddenly wasn’t capable of breathing, which, at twenty-one-years old, was much more dramatic than I liked to think myself capable of. But Matlock made me feel things I had never felt before. He always had.
“Oh, right,” I forced myself to say. “Thanks.”
Matlock narrowed his eyes. He could tell I was faking it, which annoyed me. We hadn’t seen each other in months yet somehow, he was still able to distinguish my true emotions.
Damn it, I needed to do a better job of masking them. They would eventually be my downfall, especially if said emotions were inspired by Matlock himself.
“I guess I was just confused,” I replied. I curled hair behind my ear, trying to conceal the way my fingers shook. I didn’t want him to notice that he still had a profound effect on me. I already knew how pathetic it was and I didn’t need him to realize it as well.
Matlock’s deep brown eyes lingered on me much longer than I would have liked.
It was as though he could see through me. I often wondered if that was one of his magical abilities. Granted, I had never heard of someone having that ability before, but anything was possible. Some magic was kept a secret.
“Matlock...”
The voice behind him broke through our awkward tension. I was grateful for it, even though I didn’t like the guy who was doing the interrupting.
Graham Hollow. He was twice Matlock’s age and a junior Council member.
“Ah, Graham.” Matlock laid on the charm thickly, flashing a smile. How easy it was for him to switch over to “High Warlock” mode.
I almost wanted to scream at him. To demand to know if any of our love had been real, but I kept my burning thoughts to myself.
He gestured to me. “This is an old school friend, Genevieve. Genevieve, this is my colleague, Graham Hollow.”
I knew exactly who he was, and the last thing I wanted was to be introduced to the man. But I couldn’t let either of them know that, so I forced myself to stick out my hand and put a cheery smile on my face that I definitely didn’t feel.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Hollow,” I said.
Graham glanced at my hand before looking at me. The sneer on his face didn’t falter, as though he were some kind of marble statue carved out with disgust as its signature look. He shifted his eyes over to Matlock, his expression unchanged. He seemed to be telling Matlock that he would rather swallow fire than touch me.
Which was fine by me, because it wasn’t like I wanted to touch him.
The sun was already beginning to set, the blue sky sprinkled with darkness. In less than an hour, the sky would be ink-black, speckled with sparkling stars and a waning moon slowly fading to darkness itself.
I wanted to go home. My father would probably be working late. We weren’t exactly the wealthiest family here, so any time he could take extra shifts, he did. Even if it meant working consecutive sixteen-hour days. Sometimes we didn’t see each other for a week.
My mother had died in a magical accident at her work when I was young. So it had always just been my dad and me.
“Matlock,” Graham said in a low voice. “We really must be moving along. They’re expecting us.”
Matlock looked back at me. I arched a brow at him, surprised. It almost seemed like he cared about my thoughts on the situation, as though he didn’t want to leave.
But that couldn’t be. Matlock had made it clear when he broke things off between us that his priority was the Council. His future. It had to be.
I couldn’t even be upset with him because he was going to be the most powerful and renowned warlock in all the realms.
The High Warlock.
“You go on, Graham,” Matlock said, though his dark eyes stayed fixed on me. “I’ll be there in a bit.”
“Matlock, need I remind you that they are expecting you?” Graham demanded. “The Council is waiting on our arrival, and if you’re late... if we’re late –”
“I said,” Matlock finally ripped his eyes away from mine so he could glare at Graham, “you go on ahead. I will be there, Graham.”
There was something in his tone I’d never heard before. Something harsh. A warning. A shiver crawled down my spine just listening to it. I’d never expected Matlock’s voice could be so cold.
Instead of listening, Graham stayed where he was. “We cannot be late, Matlock,” he said, his voice hard and unflinching. “You know the consequences. Especially if they find out the reason for your tardiness is –”
“They won’t learn the reason for my tardiness because you won’t tell them.”
Matlock was making a play I didn’t understand and one I wasn’t sure what to counter with. “Do you understand, Graham?”
Graham clenched his teeth together so hard they popped. “You know,” he said, each word clipped, “just because you will be High Warlock someday doesn’t mean you are now. Might I remind you that your affections have been spoken for already?”
“If you’re referring to my engagement, say as much,” Matlock instructed. Now his rich baritone voice was bored rather than authoritative, like Graham wasn’t someone to be bothered with. “My affections have nothing to do with the person I’m forced to marry.”
“I caution you regarding to whom you speak about such things,” Graham said. His eyes slid over to me for a long moment before returning to Matlock. “I don’t think I need to remind you that words have consequences. We are magic, after all. Slip up and say the wrong thing, and a spell could be altered and cause grave consequences. The same can be applied here.”
“I’ll endure the consequences if any come my way,” he replied with a lift of his chin and a hard glint in his eye. “I will not tell you again, Graham.”
“Is that an order?”
Matlock’s eyes narrowed. “If it needs to be.”
Graham lingered a moment longer. Honestly, I was surprised that he didn’t say anything more. Graham appeared to be resentful of taking direction from Matlock. I couldn’t blame him. The man was older, more experienced. But Graham was not the High Warlock. He would never have that position, which meant Matlock could get away with giving orders.
“Don’t linger,” Graham warned.
Before Matlock could reply, Graham spun on his heel and resumed walking away. I almost snickered. He looked like he was walking with a stick up his ass, so offended was he at what Matlock had said.
“I can’t believe you just told him that,” I said, smoothing the wrinkles of my dress down.
“Why not?” Matlock asked. “I don’t appreciate him telling me what to do.”
I bit my bottom lip, refraining from saying what I really thought. How they were already telling him what to do by dictating who he would marry. And what he had to do every minute of every day for the rest of his life.
“Well, then,” I said. “What do you want to do?”
When I finally looked at him, he gave me a smile. “I want to walk you home.”