Page 27 of Gift from the Tree

Deep breath.

“There you go, princess.”

As the room comes back to me, it’s completely destroyed. Our breakfast is scattered from one side to the next, the chairs spread out across the floor, and Gaster’s wiping food off his clothes.

Corentin still has a firm grip on my chin, so I turn my face back to him. “What happened?” I whisper.

“You happened, Willow. That was your air element.”

Then, I’m met with a familiar darkness.

The sound of murmuring voices pulls me out of my sleep. My eyes are heavy but not nearly as bad as the other two times this has happened now and the pounding in my head is more of a dull thud.

Well, I believe I’ve got an idea about what’s causing me to pass out.

“Here, drink this.”

Groaning, pushing myself to a sitting position, I reach for the mug Gaster’s holding out in front of me. I greedily drink it down, knowing it may be hot, but I also know and care more about the fact it’s about to make me feel a whole lot better.

“Good. How are you feeling?” he asks as I hand the mug back.

“Not great, but not near as bad as the first two times this has happened. Why is it happening?”

“It’s your overuse of power. Once you gain more control and become used to having it active, it’ll stop causing you to pass out,” Corentin says, standing in the doorway beside Tillman and Caspian. It’s not until then that I realize I’m not in the bedroom I’m staying in.

Glancing around, I’m in some sort of sunroom on a couch. The windows are open, letting a fresh breeze in, and the ceiling is completely made of glass, letting the sun shine down right on me.

“Why are we in here?” I ask, looking between the three for an answer.

“Being in a more environmental setting will help recharge you and your element quicker, but since you were completely out, we didn’t think it’d be best to just lay you in the yard,” Corentin answers, sounding like he’s just over it and frustrated with this whole situation.

Well, fuck him, so am I.

When you live your entire life with two abusers, who constantly bring around disgusting, vile men, you learn to read them like a book. I had no choice but to learn to read a room, especially a room full of men, in order to protect myself, in order to survive. And that’s exactly what I’m doing to them now, figuring out what I need to know about them, what to say, what not to say, what’s going to make them tick.

Now that I can see the three of them clearly in the bright light of this room, they all have other similar features, not just their massive fucking builds. Their faces are angled to perfection like the gods themselves sculpted them. Not in the beauty of an angel kind of way. More so the sinful way that probably makes women throw themselves at their feet and worship them from their knees.

Despite the chaotic breakfast, everything about Corentin is well-kept and immaculate from his hair to his clothes. His body language and his emotionless, blank stare scream controlled, unwavering concentration. He likes to run the show.

Tillman’s a fucking beast of a man, but he looks bathed in patience with his calm and relaxed posture. My assumption of his height has to be right, and the sleeve of tattoos decorating his right arm just adds to his intimidatingly attractive stature. Gentle, silent giant.

Caspian’s the opposite of both. Where they seem calm and collected, he’s unruly, angry, deadly. The scars on his knuckles and the darkness clinging to his eyes tell me he enjoys pounding his fist into shit, letting his demons out to play often. It should make me fearful of him, but where I can look in Donald’s eyes and see a true fucking soulless psychopath who enjoys hurting any and everybody, Caspian’s eyes show pain. Darkness blends with the pain and it’s made him untrustful, secluded, angry. He has a bloodthirst for justice and revenge.

“What are you staring at?” His icy voice is meant to make me cower, but I just see it as a challenge.

“Why are you so angry?” I ask in a sickly sweet voice rather than using the same shitty tone he just used with me. Instead of answering me, he sneers like I’m not worth wasting the next breath on and stomps off back down the hallway.

Fucking asshat.

“So what now?” I ask Tillman. I’m done dealing with Corentin’s shit attitude already today, but after a few seconds of him not bothering to answer me either, I roll my eyes and move to Gaster.

“We think the best course of action right now is for you to spend the day with me. We need to work on figuring out what all is being held in the Memoria stone and you have a lot of catching up to do on Elementra and your powers before classes start next week,” Gaster answers with no hesitation. At least I have someone here who I can fucking rely on just telling me… Wait.

“Classes? What do you mean before classes start next week?”

“I’m enrolling you in the academy. We can’t have you just walking around untrained, letting out massive air blasts. You’ll end up hurting yourself and others,” Corentin says in a tone that brooks no room for argument.

“Why are you being such an asshole right now, Corentin? You act like I asked for all of this, like I’m doing this shit on purpose?” My chest rises and falls fast with the effort it’s taking to keep my anger in check, but how can he sit here and act like I’m a walking time bomb when I can’t help this?

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