Page 4

D iana jerked awake , her neck screaming in protest from a night spent in the world's most vindictive chair. Sunlight flooded the temporary infirmary, and she squinted at it accusingly. Her patient, Miss Holloway, slept peacefully, monitoring charms pulsing with reassuring stability.

She stretched, several vertebrae popping in quick succession like tiny magical firecrackers.

"I'm pretty sure spines aren't supposed to make that sound."

Diana whirled around to see Alarick in the doorway, holding a tray that smelled divine enough to make her stomach growl with embarrassing volume. His hair was damp, shirt sleeves already rolled up as if proper sleeve length was against his religion.

"You actually brought breakfast," she said, eyeing the pastries and coffee with naked longing.

"I'm a man of my word." He placed the tray on a nearby table. "Though I'm not above bribery when it comes to peace negotiations."

"Smart strategy." Diana moved to check her patient, hyperaware of Alarick tracking her movements. "She's stable. The healing charms did their job."

"Unlike that torture device you call a chair." He poured tea, adding a splash of milk. "Here. Medicinal purposes."

"How did you know how I take my tea?" She accepted the cup, trying to ignore the tiny spark when their fingers brushed.

"I pay attention," he said simply, handing her a pastry that leaked cinnamon and possibly magic. "Perks of being the young, observant one."

Diana rolled her eyes but couldn't stop her smile. "Age jokes. Very mature."

"I save my maturity for important things. Like bringing breakfast to stubborn healers who forget to eat."

They ate by the window, morning sun turning the room golden. Diana sipped her perfectly prepared tea, watching Alarick review the monitoring charms with competent efficiency. When had he gotten so good at healing-adjacent magic?

"About last night," he began, voice low to avoid waking their patient.

"Mr. Blackthorn. Nurse Maelstrom."

Headmistress Raven materialized in the doorway, Edgar surveying them with beady, judgmental eyes.

Diana straightened reflexively. "Good morning, Headmistress. Fontina Reblochon is recovering well."

"So I've been informed." Raven's expression revealed nothing as she glanced between them. "The infirmary transfer must be completed by nightfall. Construction begins tomorrow."

"We've moved the essentials," Diana assured her. "The remaining items are ready for transport."

"Good. Given the delicate nature of healing instruments, I expect you both to supervise personally." Raven's gaze could have cut glass. "I trust you can work together effectively? Despite any personal considerations?"

Diana's cheeks flamed. "Of course, Headmistress. We're professionals."

"Excellent." Raven turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and the faculty wing reported unusual magical fluctuations last night. Mr. Blackthorn, perhaps you could inspect the warding there after the infirmary transfer?"

"Yes, Headmistress."

After Raven departed, Diana exhaled dramatically. "Does she have surveillance spells or something?"

"The walls themselves probably file daily reports." Alarick glanced at Edgar, who had stayed behind. "Should we get to work before the feathered spy memorizes our conversation?"

The raven gave an affronted caw before flying after his mistress.

"Creepy bird," Diana muttered.

"He likes you."

"And you know this how?"

"He didn't try to steal your shiny things." Alarick grinned. "That's practically a marriage proposal from Edgar."

A groan from the bed saved Diana from responding. Fontina blinked awake, grimacing.

"Easy," Diana said, moving to her side. "You're in the infirmary. How do you feel?"

"Like I tried to high-five lightning," Fontina croaked. "Did I really turn the practice hall purple?"

"Among other things," Alarick confirmed. "Though the color's fading. Mostly."

After examining her and prescribing rest, Diana turned to Alarick. "We should start the transfer. Some equipment needs precise magical calibration."

They worked through the morning, settling into a rhythm that felt dangerously natural. Their magic twined together effortlessly—his protective spells automatically adjusting to her healing charms, her arrangements intuitively aligning with his wards. They moved around each other like they'd been partners for years instead of days.

"That's the last of the sensitive equipment," Diana said as they levitated an ancient diagnostic mirror that hated being touched. "Regular staff can handle the rest."

"Perfect timing," Alarick replied, securing the mirror. "We've been at this for hours."

Diana blinked, surprised to see the sun high overhead. "Time flies when you're having fun," she said sarcastically, though it wasn't entirely untrue.

"Speaking of which, lunch?" Alarick revealed a basket hidden behind a cabinet. "I may have anticipated us forgetting to eat. Again."

"You're getting predictable," she said, though her stomach betrayed her with another embarrassing growl.

They settled by the window, unpacking sandwiches and drinks. Diana studied Alarick when he wasn't looking.

"I've been thinking about your idea," he said, biting into a sandwich. "Integrating healing spells into protective wards."

"Oh?" Diana tried to recall mentioning this.

"With the right magical buffer, we could create emergency wards that begin preliminary healing while medical help arrives." His eyes lit with enthusiasm, making him unfairly attractive. "The spell architecture would be complex, but if anyone could design the healing component, it would be you."

"You seem very confident in my abilities," she said, caught off guard by his matter-of-fact praise.

"I've seen you work," he shrugged.

Diana felt pleasure at his words—not flattery but genuine professional respect.

"Well," she managed, "your warding techniques are impressive too. I've never seen protective spells adapt so naturally to changing conditions."

His smile warmed her from the inside out. "Are we actually exchanging compliments? Should I check for magical influence?"

"Very funny." But she was smiling too. "Professional recognition isn't personal flattery."

"Isn't it?" His eyes held hers. "Because right now, it feels very personal."

The air between them crackled with something more potent than leftover magic. Diana's heart raced with a rhythm that had nothing to do with professional admiration.

"Alarick—" she began, then faltered.

"We never finished our conversation from last night," he said quietly. "About us."

"There is no 'us,'" she replied automatically, the words ringing hollow.

"Isn't there?" He set down his drink, eyes serious. "We can keep pretending this is just magical compatibility or professional respect. But we both know it's more."

Diana wanted to retreat behind her professional walls, but the events of the past days—working seamlessly during emergencies, their easy conversation at dinner, the perfect synchronization of their magic—made denial feel dishonest.

"It's complicated," she said lamely.

"It doesn't have to be." He moved closer, his warmth radiating toward her. "Unless you're genuinely not interested. If that's the case, I'll never mention it again."

Diana really looked at him—not just his obvious appeal, but the intelligence in his eyes, the confidence in his hands, the way he'd proven himself both skilled and considerate. Ten years younger, yes, but her equal in every way that mattered.

"That's not it," she admitted softly. "I am interested. More than I should be."

The naked desire that flashed in his eyes at her confession sent heat rushing through her.

"Then what's stopping you?" he asked, voice dropping. "Really?"

Diana swallowed. "Professional boundaries. Working together. The age thing. What people will say."

"And if none of that mattered?" His gaze intensified. "If it was just you and me, no complications. What would you want then?"

The question hung between them, demanding honesty she'd been avoiding since his return. Diana thought of all her careful arguments for maintaining distance.

None of them seemed important when he looked at her like that.

"I'd want this," she whispered, and kissed him.

The first brush of their lips was tentative, questioning. Then Alarick's hand came up to cradle her face, fingers threading into her hair, and any hesitation vanished. The kiss deepened, igniting something that had been building between them for days. Her hands rested on his shoulders, feeling the solid strength beneath her fingers as his arms encircled her, drawing her closer.

Magic sparked around them, literal sparks of blue and gold dancing in the air as their inherent magical energies responded to the connection. Diana had heard of such phenomenon but never experienced it—the rare magical resonance that occurred when two practitioners with highly compatible cores connected on an intimate level.

They broke apart, both breathless, staring at the shimmering magical display surrounding them.

"Well," Alarick said, his voice rougher than usual. "That answers a few questions."

Diana couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her. "About magical resonance?"

"Among other things." His smile was dazzling. "Like whether you're as magnificent at kissing as you are at healing spells."

"And the verdict?" She couldn't believe her own boldness.

"Exceeds expectations," he murmured, leaning in again. "Though further testing may be required."

This time, the kiss was deeper from the start, his mouth moving over hers with confident desire that made her head spin. Diana found herself pressed against the edge of the table, Alarick's body tantalizingly close as his hands slid down her back, pulling her firmly against him. The heat of him against her sent waves of awareness through her body, every nerve ending suddenly, acutely alive.

The sensation of being held, of being wanted so obviously, sent heat coursing through her. How long had it been since she'd allowed herself this kind of connection? Too long, clearly, given how rapidly her body was responding to his touch.

His lips traveled down her neck, finding a sensitive spot that made her gasp. Diana's hands clutched at his shoulders, her head tilting back to give him better access. The magical sparks intensified around them, responding to their mutual desire, casting the infirmary in a soft, shimmering glow.

"We should stop," she managed between kisses, even as her hands betrayed her by slipping beneath his shirt to feel the warm skin of his back, the play of muscles as he moved against her. "Anyone could walk in on us."

"Completely," he agreed, trailing kisses along her collarbone that sent shivers cascading through her. His voice was a low rumble against her skin. "Want me to stop?"

"No," she admitted, her fingers threading through his hair to keep him close. "That's the problem."

His chuckle against her skin sent new waves of sensation through her. "Not seeing the problem, personally."

His hands found their way under her blouse, warm against her ribs, his thumbs tracing maddening patterns just beneath the edge of her bra. Diana arched into his touch without conscious thought, her body responding with a mind of its own. She could feel his arousal pressed against her hip, the evidence of his desire sending a fresh surge of heat through her lower belly.

One of his hands slid up to cup her breast through the thin fabric of her bra, his thumb brushing over the center in a way that drew a soft moan from her lips. The sound seemed to affect him deeply; his kiss became more urgent, his body pressing hers more firmly against the table.

Diana's logical mind made one last attempt at responsible behavior. "We don’t want to be caught in a compromising position."

Alarick pulled back slightly, keeping his arms around her. His eyes were dark with desire, pupils dilated, but there was genuine consideration in them as well. "You're right. This isn't the place."

The fact that he would stop, that he respected her enough to acknowledge the legitimate concern, only made her want him more. Diana found herself caught between professional responsibility and increasingly insistent desire.

"The wards," she remembered suddenly. "You're supposed to check the faculty wing wards this afternoon."

"The faculty wing," he repeated, understanding dawning. "Where our quarters are."

"Yes,” she said, nodding.

"Which I should inspect. Thoroughly. Starting with yours."

"Yes. My quarters might require extensive examination."

The walk back to the faculty wing was an exercise in restraint, their conversation deliberately professional while the tension between them built with every step. They passed several students and faculty members, exchanging polite greetings while carefully maintaining proper distance from each other.

But the moment Diana's door closed behind them, that carefully maintained professionalism shattered. Alarick's mouth found hers, hungry and insistent, as her hands pulled him closer, all pretense of restraint abandoned. The magical resonance that had begun in the infirmary returned instantly, blue-gold sparks shimmering around them as their magic responded to their heightened emotions.

They moved through her sitting room in a tangle of increasingly urgent touches, bumping into furniture and laughing breathlessly before finding themselves at the threshold of her bedroom.

Alarick paused there, his hands cradling her face, his eyes searching hers. "Are you sure? We can slow down."

The consideration in his voice, the genuine care beneath the obvious desire, convinced Diana more than any passionate declaration could have. This wasn't just physical attraction or magical resonance. This was something deeper, a connection that had been building since his return.

"I'm sure," she said, pulling him to her. "Though I reserve the right to blame temporary insanity later."

His smile was wicked as he backed her toward the bed. "Nothing temporary about what I'm feeling, Diana."

The sound of her name on his lips sent a thrill through her. He said it with such reverence, as if her name itself was a spell worth savoring. His hands were at her waist, then sliding up beneath her blouse, warm against her skin. Diana fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, eager to feel more of him, to explore the body she'd been pretending not to notice.

When his shirt finally fell open, revealing a chest defined by years of physical work rather than vanity, she ran her hands across his warm skin, feeling the solid strength beneath. She traced the contours of his shoulders, down the planes of his chest, following a thin trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath his waistband.

"Your turn," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that she could feel against her palms. His fingers found the hem of her blouse, tugging gently in question.

Diana hesitated only briefly before lifting her arms, allowing him to pull the garment over her head. It left her in a simple lace bra that suddenly felt both too revealing and not revealing enough. The way Alarick looked at her, with unconcealed appreciation and hunger, made her feel desirable in a way she hadn't in far too long.

"You're beautiful," he said, his voice rough with desire. His hands skimmed her sides, tracing the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips. "I've thought about this since the moment I saw you again."

Before she could respond, his lips were on her neck, trailing down to her collarbone, the junction of her shoulder. Each kiss left a trail of heat in its wake, her skin tingling with magical energy where his mouth had been. His hands slid up her back, finding the clasp of her bra with practiced ease. Diana arched into his touch as he caressed newly exposed skin, his mouth continuing its exploration down to the swell of her breast.

When his lips closed around her nipple, a gasp escaped her, pleasure spiraling outward from the point of contact. He lavished attention on one breast and then the other, his tongue and teeth creating sensations that sent tremors through her body. The magical shimmer around them intensified, responding to her pleasure, casting dancing patterns of light across their skin.

Alarick's attention was thorough, alternating between gentle and demanding in a way that suggested he was noting every response, adapting to what made her breath catch and her body arch. His hands traveled down her sides to her hips, thumbs hooking in the waistband of her skirt.

"You're overdressed," she managed to say, reaching for the fastening of his trousers.

He helped her, shedding the remainder of his clothing before assisting with hers. When they were finally skin to skin, Diana couldn't help the soft sound that escaped her at the exquisite sensation. Alarick's body was warm and solid against hers, his arousal evident as he pressed her back onto the bed.

Their magical resonance intensified with direct contact, a subtle glow emanating from where their skin touched. Diana had read about such phenomenon but always assumed the accounts were exaggerated for romantic effect. Now, experiencing the heightened sensitivity, the way her magic seemed to reach for his, she understood those descriptions had, if anything, understated the reality.

His hands moved over her with reverent exploration, as if mapping territory he intended to memorize. Every touch sent ripples of both physical pleasure and magical response through her body. When his lips followed the path of his hands, trailing down her stomach, Diana's breathing quickened in anticipation.

Alarick's hands explored her body with the same precision and care he brought to his work, finding places she hadn't realized were sensitive. When his fingers trailed up her inner thigh, she trembled with anticipation. The first touch against her center drew a gasp from her lips, pleasure sharp and immediate.

"Tell me what you like," he murmured against her hip, his fingers exploring with deliberate gentleness.

Diana couldn't remember the last time someone had asked that question—had cared enough about her pleasure to seek explicit guidance. The consideration behind the question was almost as arousing as his touch.

"This," she breathed as his fingers found a particularly sensitive spot, circling with perfect pressure. "Just like that."

He followed her guidance, his touch becoming more confident as he learned her responses. When he slid one finger inside her, then another, Diana's hips rose to meet his hand, seeking more of the exquisite sensation. The magical resonance between them amplified every touch, creating a feedback loop of physical and magical pleasure that was quickly overwhelming her senses.

But she wanted more than just his touch. Needed more. Her hand found him, wrapping around his length, feeling him pulse against her palm. Alarick's rhythm faltered momentarily at her touch, a groan escaping him that sent a thrill of feminine power through her.

"Diana," he said, her name half-warning, half-plea. "I won't last if you keep that up."

"Then don't wait," she replied, surprising herself with her boldness. "I want you. Now."

He reached for his discarded trousers, extracting protection from a pocket. Diana appreciated his preparation even as impatience coursed through her. When he finally settled between her thighs, the anticipation was almost unbearable.

The first push of him entering her drew matching gasps from them both. Alarick stilled, giving her time to adjust, his control evident in the tension of his muscles beneath her hands. Their magical resonance peaked at the moment of joining, casting the room in a soft blue-gold glow that pulsed in rhythm with their heartbeats.

When he began to move, it was with careful restraint that rapidly gave way to more urgent rhythm as Diana's responses made it clear what she wanted. She wrapped her legs around him, drawing him deeper, her hands tracing the flex of muscles in his back as he moved within her.

Their magic continued to entwine, amplifying every sensation, creating a connection that went beyond physical. Diana felt herself climbing toward release faster than expected, the combination of physical pleasure and magical resonance overwhelming her usual control.

Alarick shifted slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts to hit a spot inside her that sent lightning through her veins. Diana's nails dug into his shoulders, her head falling back as pleasure built toward an almost unbearable peak.

"Let go," Alarick whispered, sensing her closeness. His voice was strained with his own effort at control. "I've got you."

The simple reassurance, combined with a particularly perfect thrust, sent her over the edge. Diana's release washed through her in waves of pleasure, intensified by the magical connection between them. The room itself seemed to respond, the magical shimmer around them pulsing brightly with each wave of her climax.

Alarick followed soon after, his rhythm faltering as he groaned her name against her neck, his body tensing and then shuddering above her. Their magic flared one final time, a brief, brilliant flash that illuminated the room before slowly fading to a gentle glow.

They lay tangled together afterward, breathing gradually returning to normal, the magical glow slowly fading from their skin. Diana waited for regret or embarrassment to set in, for her practical mind to reassert itself with all the reasons this had been a mistake.

Instead, she felt a surprising contentment, a rightness she hadn't expected. Her body hummed with lingering pleasure, her magic settling into a quieter harmony with his that remained even after the visible manifestation had faded.

Alarick propped himself up on one elbow, studying her face. His hair was tousled, his expression soft in a way that made something in her chest tighten. "Having second thoughts yet?"

"Trying to," she admitted honestly. "But not succeeding particularly well."

His smile was both relieved and delighted. "Good. Because I'm having none whatsoever." He traced the curve of her cheek with gentle fingers. "That was..."

"Magical?" Diana supplied with a small smile.

"Quite literally." He laughed softly. "Though I think that's the first time I've ever seen actual sparks fly."

Diana reached up to brush a lock of hair from his forehead. "The magical resonance is rare. I've read about it, but never experienced it before."

Ancient texts called it amoris veneficium —love magic—a term Diana stubbornly refused to thing too deeply on right now.

"Never?" His expression turned curious. "Not with anyone?"

She shook her head. "Magic responds to emotional and physical connection, but this level of resonance is exceptionally uncommon. It suggests an unusual compatibility between our magical cores."

"So what you're saying," he said, a mischievous glint in his eye, "is that we're exceptional together."

Diana couldn't help but laugh. "That's a rather simplified interpretation of a complex magical phenomenon."

"But not incorrect." He leaned down to kiss her softly. "I prefer the simple truth. We're extraordinary together, Diana. In every way."

Diana traced idle patterns on his chest, marveling at the ease she felt with him despite the newness of this intimacy. "This complicates things."

"Does it?" He caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. "Or does it simply acknowledge what was already there?"

Before she could answer, a familiar silvery shape manifested in the center of the room—Headmistress Raven's messenger apparition, taking the form of an elegantly austere raven.

"Nurse Maelstrom," it spoke in Raven's crisp tones. "Your presence is requested in the east practice hall immediately. A magical demonstration has had unexpected results."

The apparition dissolved, leaving them staring at the space it had occupied.

"Does she know?" Diana whispered, mortified at the thought.

"It's just a standard message apparition," Alarick assured her, though he looked less certain than his words suggested. "They find the recipient wherever they are. It doesn't mean she knows you're otherwise occupied."

Diana was already scrambling for her clothes, professionalism reasserting itself in the face of a medical emergency. "I need to go."

"I'll come with you." Alarick dressed with equal speed. "If it's a magical accident, you might need containment support."

She paused in the middle of buttoning her blouse, struck by the simple practicality of his offer. No pretense, no attempt to separate their professional and personal relationships—just a straightforward desire to help.

"Thank you," she said, meaning it for more than just the offer of assistance.

They were back to being Nurse Maelstrom and Mr. Blackthorn by the time they reached the practice hall, all evidence of their interlude concealed beneath professional demeanors. Only the lingering awareness between them, the subtle ways their magic continued to reach for each other, betrayed what had transpired.

One thing was certain—she could no longer pretend that Alarick Blackthorn was just another colleague. And she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to try.