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Nothing I’ve done ever damaged any of the Conjuration Department’s shit. I’m a professional, unlike elitist, trust-fund nepo babies who rest easy on beds of blood money.
So there's a rivalry, and the elf/fae whatever he's going to end up being is the street-smart inner city kid, while the other half of this duo is going to be the trust fund kid. Got it
Orok wrestles me into a headlock, nearly dislodging my glasses, and plants a kiss on the blond mess I call a hairstyle.
I'm just now ralizing the poorer, snarky, street smart one is the blond cherubic looking human on the cover. Surprising. The elf or half elf whatever that looks like he's the one with the attitude problem is actually the rich legacy kid.
“Why are you here?” I bark as he reaches for the door handle. “Why do you give a shit about this grant? What are you going to do with it that your family can’t fund anyway?” “It’s not just about funding,” he says to the door. “This grant carries weight.”
Get it out in the open.
The flames take me. The rage, the months of strain, all of it scorches through me and my mouth moves independently of my brain. “This is only about prestige to you? Gods, that’s worse. Even if you win this grant, those of us out here in the real world will always know you didn’t deserve it; you got it because of your last name. You’re not capable of earning anything yourself, you pompous prick.”
Decent enemies to lovers development. I believe it
“At least people will know me,” he says, eyes returning to mine. There’s no challenge in them anymore. Just excruciating hatred. “Meanwhile, you will remain an immature fuckup who will die in obscurity because you have nothing substantial to contribute to this world.”
Wooof!! Shots fired!
“Given the potential benefits of exploring spell work energy limitations,” Davyeras says, “and the importance of cross-disciplinary teamwork, the committee has decided to provide a dedicated lab space as well as increase the grant’s funding—” I jerk to the edge of my chair. What? A dedicated lab? And—more money? “—in a collaborative state to both Elethior Tourael and Sebastian Walsh.”
Forced... Proximityyyyyyy!!!
What if I show up next semester and I can’t get over working with Elethior? What if all I am, all I’ll ever be, is an irresponsible, immature fuckup who can’t cope with anything in a normal way? I won’t be able to handle working with Elethior and I’ll end up doing something reckless that gets me kicked out of school, and that’ll be that.
BB...
We’ve been at each other’s throats. We’ve insulted each other and played dumb pranks. But neither of us has tried to be, gasp, cordial, so by gods, that’s what I’ll do. And the fact that I’ll be the first of us to attempt this feat of adult sensibility means I win the moral high ground forever and ever, so he can suck it.
Ha!
We need to get to work, so step up. I’m giving you a chance to prove yourself.” I rocket out of my chair so fast Nick tumbles from my lap with an annoyed shriek. In a burst of magic that sizzles on the air, he vanishes back to the Familiar Plane, his fedora dropping limp to the floor. “Prove myself?” I thrust right up into Elethior’s face, so livid I can feel heat wavering out of me. He rolls his eyes. “This is what I mean. You can’t—” “I have to prove myself? To you?”
Elethior definitely needs to watch what he says, and I'm glad Sebastian isn't letting him get away with that shit
There’d been a time, though. Before high school. I always aced my arcane classes and I was well on my way to not only following in the Walsh family’s footsteps, but to surpassing many of them. And gods, my dad was so proud of me, asking about my classes then, and we’d talk spell work incessantly until Mom had to ban any magic topics at dinner. I knew I probably wouldn’t go the military route, but for that small window before Camp Merethyl, I at least felt a part of this family, because that spark in my dad’s eyes when we talked about spells? It burned in me, too. We had that connection.
Revolutionary daddy issues...
“I called because I know how you are,” Dad says. “And I won’t see you wasting this opportunity for yourself.”
Ugh! Come on dad, do better
I hang up on him. I hang up on Colonel Mason Walsh so forcefully I nearly break the phone in half. My ears ring. Ring and ring, a hollow clanging; and rage gathers, swelling up and out, and I want to call him back to scream at him.
This is some clinical panic attack shit. Earlier he also had an episode of scratching his arms raw. Seb needs therapy. Seb should be medicated
I can hear Dad’s disappointment if I get pulled from the grant. How I failed again. How expected my collapse was because I’m all dramatics and overreacting.
He called himself an adrenaline junkie before, but if this is his response to pressure, imposter syndrome, the weight of his family's expectations, etc... I feel like he's clinically diagnosable with something
I wince and see I’ve pushed my sleeve up to gouge my nails into the back of my arm, crescent moon arches purpling into bruises.
See! Not normal!
Is she a part of Camp Merethyl? I don’t recognize her. Gods, my dad would love that—if Elethior has direct connections to that camp and my making good with him could smooth over the ripples I caused in dropping out. My dad being happy annoys me, so I cling to that emotion. Annoyance. Frustration. Anger. There’s nothing else churning beneath my surface, nothing else trying to drown me.
I get it but play nice!
“Great progress,” she parrots. To Elethior, “How much progress should we expect from you, truthfully? If you are being forced to work with someone who will never amount to anything beyond magical tech support.”
The only obnoxious thing about this book so far is how rude everyone is right in front of Sebastian. There's an element of melodrama to seb that makes you think he's imagining a lot of the vitriol but he's not, at all! Everyone is an asshole!! In real life I would expect a lot of these jabs to be more subtle. It would add to the conflict, make us say "stop imagining everyone is out to get you." but no, they are! He's perfectly justified in being defensive
“I had one glass. I’m not drunk. I—” He looks at the windows next to the door that show the blurry forms of the guests within. His voice gentles. “I’ve always wanted to speak to her like you did. Arasne’s an insufferable, pretentious drone.”
The first real olive branch!
I deflate over my desk, fists pressing to the wood. It was my dumb fault he even has weird magic to fixate on, and I sure as hell won’t be making that mistake around him again. “You’re right,” I whisper to my desk. “I’m sorry.”
Second olive branch!
“My plan for my project was to release it for free online,” I say. My mouth is dry, tongue sandy. “After graduation. No patents, no copyrights. I have a job lined up with a nonprofit that does that sort of thing, so I was going to use this as a way to reaffirm their choice. We’re only supposed to see how evocation and conjuration overlap, but if our projects end up being tied together, that could mean your project getting released, too.” I expect him to recoil at the idea of releasing any spell for free. The Tourael will come out in him, and he’ll balk. But he shrugs. “I have no problem with
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Surprise surprise, he's altruistic too. Never saw that one coming
“What’s your familiar?” The question’s out of me like a rock from a slingshot. I’m smiling still and my chest’s all tight and tingly and I think maybe it’s some kind of cardiac event? Surely it’s not from Elethior. Buying snacks. For Nick.
Sharing a love of animals! that's how it starts!
He was only supposed to be another greedy, power-hungry Tourael. He wasn’t supposed to buy treats for my fox.
Uh huh
He turns away from the board with a smile. That smile plummets off. “Sebastian?” I’m shaking. Gods, I’m shaking; haven’t stopped shaking since—since the cocktail party, with him out under the snow and the way the individual flakes stuck to his eyelashes, and how he’d told his cousin not to kick me off the grant. He might’ve given me a way to cap spells so no one has to risk draining their components. Elethior Tourael might’ve given me what I’ve been wanting for six years. Since— Is that all you’ve got? My vision goes spotty and I throw the marker on my desk, start pacing. We haven’t tested
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Getting all vulnerable and making breakthroughs and accidentally kissing and stuff. Tee hee!
His hands brace on either side of my hips where I’m still against the table, and Elethior leans in, caging me to his body again, but facing him is a whole other inferno. Our eyes connect and fire ignites, the coarse drag of a match followed by the flicker and sizzle of a flame’s first sparks.
Yes please!
Has our every argument been foreplay for him? Has our every argument been foreplay for me?
Yes. Yes obviously
Before I can formulate a counterspell, my dad’s on the landing in front of me.
Don't you dare cock block! What a freaking mood killer!!
“My immediate relatives are part of research and development,” he continues. “Camp Merethyl is a different branch of the family, and I haven’t spoken to anyone about you or your father. I don’t plan to.” “Stop,” I beg him. My eyes shut, lashes damp. “I’ve never been there,” he keeps going. It’s strung with his own tautness, winding through him the same way my anxiety is winding through me, tighter and tighter, gearing up to snap. “My family has had its hands in it for generations, but none of them send their children there, and if that doesn’t say everything there is to say about how cruel and
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I really need to know what happened to him there and also in general what bad thing every mc thinks is going to happen if they get vulnerable with a love interest. Elethior is going above and beyond to make Sebastian feel he's in a safe space. What's wrong with a little pity??? It makes you look weak??? Why does everyone always think that?!?!
“I don’t like him,” I say. “What we’ve done is just physical. That’s where it stops.” That’s where it has to stop. If I think beyond that, it all falls apart. Like how we’re lab partners, and no matter what happens, we’re committed to working together for the next several months, and we can barely do that when only animosity is involved; but adding in other feelings? Ohhhh boy, actual murder, violence, implosions. Or how he is part of his family regardless of what Orok says, but … it’s honestly easy to forget that. Too easy. And that’s a betrayal of myself, isn’t it? Forgetting who he is, what
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Let me know how that works out for you
“Stop!” he shouts. “You’re not the only one whose project hurts!”
Oh there you go, progress!!
“The intention behind their plan for me was to make up for my mother’s failing and my father’s abandonment. For our unit of the family to not be a lost cause. And I’ve gone along with everything they’ve demanded of me, I’ve played the good Tourael, because—” A tight swallow. “Because my mom got a settlement for the accident, but that money ran out after the first two years. My family’s been footing the bill for her to stay at Blooming Grove ever since. They’ve made it quite clear that her continued support is contingent upon my … amalgamation into a Tourael company.”
He's just as much a victim of that family
But Thompson is smiling across the long table. “Very good, Mr. Walsh. Mr. Tourael.” Davyeras hums agreement, looking far more pleased than he did at the mixer a few weeks back. “Indeed. This is the progress the committee has been hoping for. And what would you say has been the most beneficial tool towards your reconciliation?” “I—” Do not say sex, do not say sex. “We—”
Ha!!!
He shivers, hands going down to grab my ass. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve stopped believing there’s a way to get this out of my system at all. I’m pretty sure you are my system now.”
Awwwwww!!!!!
I pull back with a goofy grin. “You made me dinner?” He looks deservedly proud. “And I’m going to wine and dine the fuck out of you. I haven’t had many good things in my life that my family didn’t ruin.” He interlaces his fingers with mine. “So this? I’m going to do this right.”
He's so open and honest and sweet and Sebastian, you better not fuck this up!!!
I laugh again; has it ever been this fun? Gods, it’s breaking my heart and filling in the cracks all at once.
Sweet and hot. Love it!
I’m dating an incredible guy who for whatever reason is obsessed with me. I have Orok. My parents have finally stopped hassling me about my failures. I’m on the downslope to graduation, set to finish up my project in a few weeks. I have the Clawstar job locked in, so I’ll be able to get protective spells to people who need them. For the first time in my life, I have everything I’ve ever wanted.
You had to say it out loud, didn't you. What awful thing is going to happen now?
Thio’s demeanor changes. Shifts to the situation, to what I need. He’s always doing that, adapting to me like a chameleon, and I should feel guilty for how often he slips into that role. But right now, I’m choking, and he’s turning into air for me.
Please don't let anything screw this up!
“I told you I didn’t need that from you”—I can’t feel anything, not my lips moving—“and you found out their names anyway, then used those names in an argument against me.”
Whoa whoa whoa... This isn't an argument. He's as mad at his family as you are. Don't make a mistake here please!
“I asked you not to do something,” I say, “and you found a way to do it regardless. Just like your family would with this spell. They wouldn’t give a shit how we came up with the idea, that we got it on our own without their messed-up approaches. They’d take it, and they’d abuse it, because that’s what Touraels do.” The wrong thing to say. I know as soon as the words leave my mouth, and I see it hit him. The final tap on his already fracturing shell. I see him break. “I am not my family!” he screams, the words shearing his throat. “Gods, Sebastian, is that what you think of me? Still? When I
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Even though Sebastian says the shitty thing, this is the thing that's going to make Sebastian storm out??? Thio's outburst is actually more valid! This argument is not written well
“I’m in love with him,” I say out loud, testing the words. “Oh my gods. I’m in love with him.” Orok nods soothingly. “Pretty sure you have been for a while.” I know my eyes are bloodshot, know I look a wreck. “Why is that a bad thing?” he asks. Reasons clatter over themselves in their rush to get out first. I don’t deserve it. I’ll freak out and fuck it up. “It isn’t,” I say instead. I make myself say instead. And it forces all those reasons to evaporate like mist, like the insubstantial bullshit they always have been. It isn’t a bad thing that I love him. I deserve to love him. What is a bad
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So mush wrong here!!! Firstly! He only stormed out on Thio because he's in love with him?!?! Secondly!! He's been falling apart with stress and anxiety for 6 years and so when his partner selflessly always put on a brave face for him he just assumed Thio was fine, because he's too selfish to have ever assumed otherwise!! And THIRDLY!!! He's mad at Thio for not telling him he's also been stressed and anxious!!!?? Sorry but we've all been a little too preoccupied with your drama baby boy. I'm starting to think our man Thio is too good for Sebastian
Like I love you. I’m so in love with you. I’m sorry I didn’t see how much you were hurting, but we’ll get through this together. Gods, please, let us get through this together.
Ok maybe I misinterpreted but that doesn't change how poorly it was written. I think this and the prior conversation with Orok proves he's trying to recognize how much he lets other people take care of him and how hes not being there for his people
Fine. He wants time? He gets exactly—I do some quick math—twenty-two hours and seventeen minutes. After that, he’s mine, for the rest of our miserable lives, and he’s just going to have to deal with it.
Cute. You psycho
And Orok’s unmoved beside me, his eyes wide. “It’s possible I was wrong when I told you to listen to him. You should not have given him time. He dropped out?”
Ha! Oh Orok
“Let me in, okay?” I whisper into our space. “I know that’s rich coming from me, but I will now, too. I promise. You’re not bearing any of this alone anymore, and I’m not either.”
So freaking evolved!!!
Thio winces, breaks with a panting gasp. “I love you so much.” I yank back from him. He teeters, not letting go of me. “You dick,” I snap with no bite whatsoever. “I wanted to say it first. I almost did say it first, but you cut me off.”
Ok, I forgive you, Sebastian
