Page 106 of The Cursed Fae

“Close your eyes and clear your mind,” Archer said, all business now that we were past the petty stuff.

I blew out a breath and let my lids fall shut. My head was a jumble of worries, everything from the vampire dating Lena to my quiz on the Gemini Fae the following day to how best to approach Chance Riley about his depletion problems.

“Clear your mind, Winter,” Archer repeated, more firmly this time, like he was aware of the thoughts I couldn’t shake. “This will only work if you concentrate.” He sighed. Loudly. “Okay. Let’s try something else. Listen to my voice. Don’t worry about the words, just the sound.”

At first, the tactic seemed sort of silly. Wasn’t the entire point of him talking so he could give orders? Then, the more I focused, the less I heard. It was like white noise, which helped me block out the million things weighing on my mind.

“Okay, now picture your destination,” Archer said, switching to a lower pitch that broke through the monotony.

I learned my lesson last time and chose to focus on the attic bedroom instead, since it was the one room in Nana’s house likely to be empty.

“Can you see it?” he whispered.

“Yes,” I mumbled.

“Call your magic.”

He gave the order, and I obeyed without question. The power rushed forward to fill my core.

“Go slowly, let it build.” He was much closer now. His fingertips pressed gently against the sweater covering my stomach.

My entire body tingled as I pulled more and more magic. Heat from his touch warmed my skin. I wanted to lean into him but refrained.

“Harness the power.” Archer’s breath fanned my cheek as he whispered in my ear. “You control it, not the other way around.”

He raised my right hand and pressed his palm flat against mine. “Concentrate on your target location.” He moved our hands in a slow, clockwise circle. “Keep that image in your head and cast your magic.”

Instead of the power exploding out of me, as it so often did, I intentionally released it in a controlled flow. It shot from my fingertips. I sensed the energy coming together in front of me and cracked an eyelid. There was a web of golden light suspended in the air, roughly the size of a basketball.

“Focus on your destination,” Archer said, a warning note in his voice.

An image of the attic bedroom stuck in my head. The orb expanded in every direction. My hand grew slick against Archer’s palm. He intertwined our fingers and guided me through more slow, circular rotations.

“What’s the room smell like?” he asked.

The scent of cinnamon filled my nose.

“How do you feel when you’re there?”

A single word popped into my mind: safe. At Nana’s house, surrounded by centuries of Sable family history and wrapped in my great-grandmother’s energy and love, I felt truly safe.

The golden sphere grew larger than both of us. The light shimmered and turned transparent, so it was more like a curtain or veil. On the other side, I saw my bed, the stairs leading down, and Nana’s record player. I reached out to touch it, but Archer smacked my hand.

Surprise broke my concentration, and the glowing opening vanished.

“What the hell?” I demanded, annoyed he’d interrupted me when I was so close to making a true doorway.

“Never try to enter a portal until it’s completely open.” He squeezed my fingers hard. “Never, Winter. It is very dangerous.”

It was like when my mother used to sit me down as a child and make me promise not to use my magic in front of humans—chastising and desperate. Irritated, I yanked my hand free and stepped back.

“I didn’t know that,” I snapped. “You could’ve told me. You’re supposed to be the instructor.”

Archer’s jaw clenched as he propped his fisted hands on his hips. Finally, he sighed. “You are right. It’s on me.”

It wasn’t an apology, but likely the closest I would get to one.

I tempered my annoyance. “Can I try again? I was so close.”

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