Alia clicked her tongue while she paced the length of her room. After the previous night with Tristan, she was desperate for answers regarding the men and their iPaw. She’d run hundreds of scenarios through her head, pored over dozens of her tomes, and still, she could find nothing explaining how men could advance their Class so much easier than catgirls.

  Does Saoirse truly value the men that much more than her kin?

  It hurt, to some degree. Men had always been viewed as beings of greater power, used as the example of what it meant to be a hero and to see that the next generation was strong and healthy. But Alia had assumed the men had to go through the same trials and difficulties as anyone else when it came to understanding their Class.

  Some Classes took months or years to reach. To see the iPaw so readily change Tristan from [Mage] to [Wizard] felt like a kick in the teeth. Would he be able to switch to Third Class with just as much ease?

  “No, it won’t do me any good to think like this,” Alia whispered to herself.

  No one could change what had happened. It didn’t matter what she thought or how she felt. This was simply the way of the world. No amount of research could close the gap between them. Not if this was Saoirse’s will. She knew this. And even so, her mind wandered once again.

  I need to walk, or I’m going to stay stuck in my head all night. Her head pounded. I still haven’t had breakfast.

  Alia tossed the book in her hands onto the bed and stood. As she left her room, her cloak got caught in the door. She grunted angrily and shoved the door back open. Her hands shook as she undid the fastening of her cloak, then bundled the fabric into a ball and threw it against the far wall of her room. She snatched the knob and moved to slam the door but caught herself before she could commit.

  Goodness, she was angrier than she thought.

  After adjusting the pleated skirt and corset she usually wore under her cloak, she made her way down the hall and descended the staircase. She resided on the second floor, where noise was minimal. Acquiring books, tools, and equipment was easy since most of the important items she needed for study shared the same floor. Emberlynn never minded Alia’s curiosity so long as she stayed off the third floor. That floor was meant for the mistress alone.

  Alia came to the base of the stairs on the first floor just in time to see Tristan exiting the sitting room where many of the estate’s servants ate.

  He’s still awake?

  A complicated emotion filled her chest. Sentiments of anger rose to the surface, then were quickly buried by the thought of Tristan’s fingers under her clothes. Her tail writhed behind her with wicked curiosity, her ears tingling with excitement. Her mind began to wander, as it often did when he was around, and she snapped herself out of the trance.

  Tristan saw her and offered a casual wave.

  A satisfied hum escaped Alia’s lips, and she leaned her weight onto one leg and reciprocated his wave. A stupid grin tugged at the corners of her lips, and she cursed herself for the gesture. How did this man worm his way into her mind without so much as a word from his precious, succulent lips?

  Saoirse above, what was that you just did? You see him, and you melt? Are you a kitten?

  “Hey, Alia!” Tristan approached without a hint of hesitation, smiling warmly as he so often did. He still seemed in high spirits. “Are you feeling alright? You look a little red.”

  Curse my skin! “I-I’m fine, thank you. How does the night fare?”

  “It’s nice. You have me on a night owl’s schedule now. I had a hard time sleeping, so I thought I would grab a snack and step outside for a bit.” He held up a meat bun and waved his hand back and forth. “The air here is so crisp and clean, I swear I could eat it.”

  Do you have to use such a word? Are you doing this on purpose? “N-night owl?” Alia wasn’t familiar with the term.

  “It’s a phrase to mean someone stays up late. I used to be a bit of a night owl, but that was a long time ago.”

  “I see.”

  An uncomfortable silence swept by.

  “So, what did Ravyn say? About your Second Class change?” Alia asked. Tristan seemed so enamored with Ravyn that Alia wondered how many times he’d bedded her. The thought bothered her. “Did she approve?”

  Tristan sucked the air through his teeth. “Uhhh. In a way. She did offer her congratulations, but she threw a book at me shortly after.” He bowed his head and scratched the back of his scalp. “She wasn’t too thrilled to be woken up.”

  You wouldn’t be a terrible thing to wake up to— No. Stop this. Damn him. The anger resurfaced, and Alia brushed past him. “I need to eat.”

  “Oh. I’ll come with you.”

  Alia spun on her heel and pointed at him. “No, you… No thanks.”

  Tristan blinked. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright? You seem a bit off.”

  “I’m fine,” she said after drawing a deep breath. She resumed her march. “But if you must attend, then it isn’t as if I can stop you.” And still, you let him walk all over you! Come on!

  “Alia…”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  She ignored him. There had to be something she could do to take her mind off of him. She threw open a freezer box beneath the counter—an item Emberlynn had enchanted years ago to provide a cold environment to keep food from spoiling too quickly—and procured a brown substance in a wooden container. She set it on the counter, then popped it open.

  “What’s in the box?” Tristan asked. At some point, he had ended up right beside her, craning his head toward the container.

  Alia stood on the balls of her feet to retrieve a large wooden spoon. She cursed how short she was. “Curry.”

  “Oh, we used to have that back in my world,” Tristan said, chuckling. “Looks good.”

  “Y-yes.” Curry was a favorite of hers. The servants were exceptionally good at making it. Several tough and chewy vegetables—just the way she liked it—and cuts of tender meat were marinated overnight and spiced to perfection. A bowl of it never failed to make her feel warm and cozy.

  Once her meal was complete with utensils, she put the freezer box back under the counter and took her bowl to the table at the center.

  Tristan took the chair across from her, perching his perfect chin atop his palm. “Do you eat it cold?”

  “No.” Alia extended her palm toward the bowl and willed the heat around the area to expand and intensify. She tapped the surface with her finger to test the heat, stirred the food with her spoon, and then continued to heat the area. She did this several times until the food was warm.

  “Can I do something like that now that I’m a [Wizard]?” Tristan asked.

  Alia had to stop herself from pounding the table with the bottom of her fist. “Yes.”

  He nodded.

  For a time, neither of them said anything. Alia wasn’t interested in talking, and she wasn’t about to tell him why. If he’s such a strong and smart man, then he should be able to figure it out.

  She was halfway through her bowl when Tristan finished his snack and spoke. “Something’s up. You’re usually a lot more talkative than this.”

  Alia sighed.

  “You’re angry.” He crossed his arms. “Did I do something wrong?”

  He needed her help on this one. And, try as she might to push him away, she wanted answers. “I have a question for you.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Do all men have such an easy time switching Classes?” she snapped.

  “I’m…sorry?” He shook his head. “What do you mean?”

  “I spent months learning how to become a [Wizard].” Alia set her spoon down and gripped the edge of the table. “I spent entire days buried in books and scrolls and gems and the moon.” She looked up at the garnet which lit the room. “The moon and stars didn’t see fit to honor me with the privilege of becoming a [Wizard] for a very long time.” She leveled her gaze on Tristan. “And yet, you know so very little, and you were acknowledged in less than a week.”

  “Oh,” Tristan muttered, brushing a hand over his mouth, “that makes a lot more sense.”

  “Oh?” Alia hated being this short with him. She wasn’t short with anyone. Most of the time, she’d crack under the pressure, return to her room, and practice more magic. It brought her more joy than anything else. “Is it always so easy for you?”

  Tristan drew a deep breath. “I don’t know, I’m afraid. I can’t speak for the other men, but from how Cailu described it, it sounds like most men go through a similar process.” He drummed his fingers across the table’s surface. His shoulders deflated. “Alia, I—”

  “It’s frustrating,” Alia admitted, bowing her head. “It’s frustrating knowing that all you had to do was swipe your finger across that…thing, and it made you a [Wizard].” Her cheeks burned, and she turned her head away. “It’s frustrating to see my efforts demolished so promptly. And it’s especially frustrating to hear Ravyn’s name on your lips all of the time.”

  “Hang on, Ravyn?” Tristan blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “I hear the way you talk about her. The way you describe her.” She sighed. “I should have been the one to show you how to better manage your myana, but no. She was the one to do it. I’m your teacher. That should have been me.

  “I know I— I’m not as tall, or as”—her cheeks burned like fire as the words touched her lips—“as voluptuous as she is. I-I’m sure you have fun with her every night.”

  Tristan snickered. “Ravyn? With me?”

  Alia looked at him, her brow furrowed. “Yes! With you! Why do you laugh? What’s so funny?”

  He shook his head. “No, Alia. You have it all wrong.” He waved his hand through the air. “I look up to her as a teacher and a good friend. She’s from Matt’s Party—that’s Ni Island’s man—so I don’t believe the thought’s ever crossed her mind.”

  Alia blinked rapidly. “So, then… You two haven’t…?”

  Tristan shook his head. “Nope.”

  “Ah.” I am so embarrassed right now!

  “Besides,” Tristan continued, “I don’t think she realizes it yet, but I’ve seen the way she looks at Matt. That’s who she really wants. Not me.”

  Alia swallowed the building lump in her throat. “I… I see.”

  “I’m sorry, Alia.”

  “For what?” she stammered.

  “I was so excited to hit Second Class. I didn’t realize that I trampled your feelings.” He shook his head. “I think I would feel the same way if I was in your position, and it was never my intention. So, I apologize.”

  Oh, you sweet, succulent little— “T-the moon will rise again,” Alia muttered.

  She took a scoop of her curry and chewed on it for a time. Afterward, she stood up and brought the bowl to the sink, rinsing the remaining contents. She set the bowl aside, brushed her palms across her skirt, and offered Tristan a curt bow at the neck before walking past him. “Well. Good night, Tristan.”

  “Hey,” Tristan said, catching her wrist. Alia turned to face him, admiring how the locks of his curly blonde hair settled on his forehead. Those unassuming eyes, and those gentle hands. How could any catgirl not appreciate them? “Can I make it up to you?” A playful smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

  “I-I-I don’t know what you mean,” Alia said.

  “I think you do.” Tristan kept her wrist in his hand the entire time while he stood. He pulled her closer until their chests were touching. He reached around her waist and cupped her closer. “I won’t break if you touch me. Promise.”

  Alia’s thoughts ground to a halt. All she wanted was to burn this memory into her brain. “W-we— Hm, that is…”

  “Hm?” Tristan leaned forward until their foreheads touched. “You said it yourself. It should have been you.”

  The anger she’d held in her chest only moments before swelled to a passionate greed. Yes. It should be her. “Come here,” Alia hissed as she shook off his grip and pulled him away from the break room by the neck of his shirt.

  It was a quick journey up to the steps and to her room. She threw open the door, divested his shirt, then shoved him onto her bed. Procuring the key to her lock from her skirt pocket, she shut the door behind her and turned the key. Spinning around to face him, she tossed the key to her side. “You’re mine.”

  Alia caught her breath and licked her lips. “Yes. You’re very good at this,” she hummed. “What I wouldn’t give to sire several daughters.”

  Tristan grinned and let his hand rest on her hip. “Am I hearing that you wouldn’t mind a return visit in the future?”

  Alia leaned forward. His hair curled in front of his face, the tips riddled with sweat. She lapped a droplet of sweat away from his nose. “I would mate with you over and over again until the stars themselves have burnt out.” Her tail swayed side to side behind her. “I want as many children as your seed can provide.”

  “Then I have some work ahead of me. I’ll give you as many daughters as you desire.”

  Alia’s smile widened as she eagerly devoured him with her gaze. She was not yet sated. “Until then… Might I request a second tryst?”

  “Hm, well...” Tristan laughed and snatched her wrist. “The night is still young.”

  Let us be night owls together, my darling student.

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