Chapter 294 | Mira’s Irritation

Chapter 294: 294 | Mira’s Irritation

Hale placed the card on the empty end of the bench. "Thank you for your time, Miss Constance."

Then he left.

Jasmine watched him walk toward a waiting car. The unease remained.

She picked up her phone and opened Dexter’s contact, her thumb hovering over the screen and hesitated

Then she decided to call later, explain properly, make it clear that she had promised nothing.

Jasmine locked the screen.

At the curb, Hale entered the car and shut the door. The driver did not pull away immediately.

"Did she agree?"

"Not to what we want."

"Then?"

"She confirmed when he’ll be home."

The driver glanced at him through the mirror. "And the formation?"

Hale adjusted his cuff. "There will be no attempt to break it." He looked through the window toward the young woman still sitting outside the Association. "We’ll give him a reason to open the gate."

The car pulled into traffic.

On Jasmine’s lap, the folder shifted beneath her hand. A corner of the shop photograph slipped free. She tucked it back inside carefully. She still wanted to help him. That was what she told herself as she stood.

Tomorrow, she would make certain he understood.

...

Mira was back at her usual spot by the window. The egg rested in its padded basket on the small table beside her, its four thin cracks unchanged, and she had one hand resting on the basket’s edge. Her eyes were closed.

Dexter knew she was not cultivating. Her breathing was too deliberate.

He stood beside her for a moment before speaking. "Ready for your massage?"

Mira opened her eyes. "Have you finished entertaining your guest?"

Dexter said casually. "Yes."

"Then I suppose you have time."

He looked back at her, but Mira looked out the window. For a moment he considered saying something. Instead, he took her to the room and went to fetch the massage oil, a basin of warm water, and several clean towels.

When he returned, he placed everything within reach and lowered the back of her chair slightly. A folded cushion supported her shoulders, and he adjusted the blanket over her knees before sitting on the low stool in front of her. "Tell me if anything feels uncomfortable."

"You say that every time."

"But you never listen."

She gave him a cool look, and Dexter smiled faintly as he warmed a small amount of the Grade-4 Spiritual Massage Oil between his palms. The familiar herbal scent spread through the room.

He began with her right hand. Her fingers had become much stronger since recovering, no longer lying passively in his grip. When he pressed his thumb gently into her palm, she unconsciously curled them around his.

He paused. Mira immediately relaxed her hand.

Dexter lowered his eyes and worked slowly along her fingers, then her wrist, following the circulation paths described by the 108 Body Massage Sutra.

A thin thread of mana accompanied each movement, controlled enough to avoid disturbing the energy she had gathered during cultivation. The tension around her mouth gradually eased, though she still refused to look at him.

Dexter glanced at the bracelets on her wrist. "How does it feel?"

"Useful."

"That’s almost enthusiastic."

"It helps me hold the spectral arms steady without wasting as much mana."

"That was the intention."

"It also makes you more annoying."

"I don’t think that’s one of its functions."

"It seems to happen whenever you give me something."

His mouth curved. For a few minutes, they settled into the familiar rhythm of his hands moving and her pretending not to enjoy it.

Then Dexter looked toward her legs, and the memory of the previous night returned. Mira standing in front of him. Her spectral arms merging with her legs. The brief, impossible sight of her meeting him without the wheelchair between them. And then the warmth of her lips against his cheek.

His fingers slowed. "Mira."

She opened one eye.

"How long have you been practicing that?"

"Practicing what?"

"Using the spectral arms inside your body."

Her gaze shifted away from him, and that was enough to make his smile disappear. "How long?"

"Since I got them."

Dexter’s hands stopped. For a moment, he simply stared at her. "Since you got them?"

"Yes."

"You’ve been trying to merge a materialized energy construct with your own meridians since the first day?"

Mira’s brows drew together. "You make it sound as though I shoved a spear through my leg."

"That might have been easier to understand."

Her eyes narrowed.

Dexter gently released her hand. "Mira, your meridians were still recovering. Your legs still aren’t responding properly. If you had pushed too much energy through the wrong point, or if the construct had destabilized while it was inside your body..."

He stopped. The possibilities had become unpleasantly clear. Torn meridians. Damage to tissue that was only beginning to recover. An energy backlash she might not have been able to stop. His jaw tightened. "It could have killed you."

Mira looked at him without answering, and that silence made him more frustrated. "And you didn’t think to tell me?"

"I knew what I was doing."

"It could have gone wrong."

Her expression hardened. "I have been controlling mana longer than you."

"And I’ve seen enough people do reckless things to recognize one."

"Careful, Dexter."

"No. You should have been careful."

The room fell quiet. Mira stared at him, and Dexter stared back, his worry sitting too close to anger for him to hide it. Finally, she said, "Did you ask our permission before you brought Jasmine into the house?"

He blinked. "What?"

"You heard me."

"What does Jasmine have to do with this?"

Mira lifted her chin. "Apparently, we’re supposed to consult each other before doing things."

Dexter stared at her for several seconds, then dragged a hand down his face. "She came to the gate."

"And you invited her inside."

"She’s someone I know."

"Yes," Mira rolled her eyes as she said. "We noticed."

Something in her voice made him stop. The irritation in his expression faded a little. "Mira..."

"Don’t use that tone."

"What tone?"

"The one you use when you’ve decided I’m being unreasonable."

"I haven’t decided that."

"You’re considering it."

He sighed. "I’m trying to understand how we went from you risking a cultivation backlash to Jasmine."

Mira’s fingers tightened against the blanket, and she looked toward the window. For several breaths, neither spoke.

Then she said, much more quietly, "You kept looking at her and ignored us completely."