I laugh and take my tray from her shaking hands. “You’re not old, Ettie.”
“You’re mighty chipper for being dosed.”
“I’m not dosed.” I frown. “What makes you think I’m dosed?”
She puts a meaty hand on her hip. “If Mr. Williams isn’t here, then you must be dosed.”
Geez, she makes me sound like some kind of sex addict. “I slept off the dose they gave me last night. Tiras wanted to leave this morning, so I dismissed him.”
“Hmph.” With a curt nod, Ettie leaves me, locking the door behind her.
Fine. Let her think what she wants. I don’t care.
I pick at my off-brand Eggos until they’re cold, but I’m not hungry—not for waffles, anyway. I crave more of Tiras, but Wednesday mornings are for physical fitness therapy, so I’ll have to wait.
The class is almost empty today. The pyro twins stay in their room, as do the water mage and the mentalist. I’m grateful that it’s just myself and the windtalker; despite the name, he seldom speaks. We muddle through the tedious yoga program, but my mind is back in my room with Tiras, and who knows where the windtalker’s mind is at.
Lunch is served right after yoga, and whatever ailment the pyro twins have claimed this time seems to have resolved itself in time for food. They laugh and carry on in the dingy dining hall as though they were never sick this morning—and odds are they weren’t.
Free hour takes forever to get here. I rush to my room and slam the door behind me.
Tiras smiles when he appears, and I throw myself into his arms. The embrace stirs a warmth in my groin, and I reach between us. He’s ready, at full attention, and I calculate how much time we have before I have to return to the dining hall for dinner. If we’re quick about it, we won’t get caught.
With his silky-smooth shaft in my hand, the warmth between my legs becomes a pool, and he moans as I begin to stroke. “Siren…”
“Shh,” I say. “We have enough time.”
He grins and lifts me up, wrapping my legs around his waist as he walks me to the bed and lays me down. His knees are both gentle and firm against my legs as he positions himself for entry. I prefer more foreplay than this, but in this place, we have to take what we can get.
I bury a hand in his hair and pull him closer. He drives me to ecstasy and beyond, and I bite his shoulder to muffle my screams. This excites him even more; my eyes roll back as he pushes into me again and again. The metal-framed bed creaks with a steady rhythm, a sure giveaway to anyone walking down the hallway as to what I’m up to in here.
I don’t care. Let them know. I have to have him. I have to have all of him.
He finishes with a final push, emptying himself into me. I don’t know if conjured beings have seed, but if they do, Tiras and I have been lucky. I very much doubt I’d be allowed to keep a half-human/half-Ether baby.
When he’s done, he rolls onto his side, taking me with him. I’d love to lie here like this forever, but I know we can’t. Still, I missed him during my sessions today, and I’m glad for his touch. “I wish they’d let me take you with to my therapies,” I say as I stroke his toned chest. “Life here would be more tolerable if I could have you by my side all the time.”
He stiffens. When I look up, his lips are pressed tight, his expression grim. “But would you really want me here all the time?”
“What kind of question is that? Of course I would. The only reason I’ve ever dismissed you is because other people don’t want me to be with you. Even as a child, I never dismissed you unless Mom and Dad told me to.”
He disengages from me and stands. He rakes his hands through his hair and paces back and forth. On a normal day, I’d be taking in the sight of his tight ass in front of me, but he’s acting strange. I suspect this day is going to be far from normal.
“Tiras—I love you. I’ve always loved you. I will always love you, forever. If the rules weren’t what they are, if I could have you by my side at all times, not just here alone in this room, I would choose that over any other thing.”
“And if the rules weren’t what they are?”
I blink a few times, confused. “But they are what they are. We can’t exactly change them, especially not from in here.”
He stops his pacing at the chair by my dresser—far out of reach—and sits with his elbows on his knees. “Maybe we can.”
“Huh?”
Amber eyes meet mine across the room, and a thunderstorm brews in them. For the first time in my life, I’m scared of what Tiras might say or do. Not that I think he’d ever cause me actual harm, but I’ve never seen that look in his eyes, either.
“Do you want me to stay?”
I cock my head, and my brows draw tight as I try to figure out what he’s getting at. “I always want you to stay; it’s the doctor and the nurses that take away the magic that brings you here.”
“I know, and they take away your magic because of what they catch us doing.”
“Well, yeah. It’s kind of frowned upon for a conjurer like me to sleep with their conjured being.”
“Indeed.” He stands again and goes back to pacing. “So as long as I’m your ‘conjured being,’ we can’t truly be together, then, can we?”
I’m more confused by the second. Is he—is he trying to break up with me?
“Tiras,” I say as I get up and cross to stand in his path, “what’s this all about?”
He grabs my shoulders, and though not painful, his grip is
