Page 49 of Cursed Wolfsbane

Him ordering me around does nothing other than make me more frustrated. “I’m not done. You both can go inside, but I’m staying out here until I can finally do something right with my magic.”

Not waiting for a response, I storm over to the tree line. While I know it’s not Bastian’s or Saint’s fault that I haven’t been able to get my magic to work, I’m irrationally angry at them, at myself, at my parents, and at the whole world. The anger flows like lava through my veins, causing my chest to burn.

The heat coursing through me just makes my frustration increase until I feel like I’m going to explode. I close my eyes and picture one of the trees in front of me spontaneously blowing up, wood shards flying everywhere. My anger seems to flow out of me at the ridiculous image, and I feel better for a moment.

At least until I hear an ear-splitting bang.

My eyes snap open in time to see tree branches and wood chips flying everywhere, including a branch hurtling straight atme. I drop to my stomach just as the tree limb would’ve impaled me. That would’ve been super inconvenient to have to heal.

“Briar!” someone shouts. With my ears still ringing from the sound of the tree blowing up, I can’t tell if it’s Saint or Bastian.

As I push to my feet, they both rush over. “Are you hurt?” Bastian asks frantically as he hovers his hands over my arms and sweeps his gaze over me, searching for injuries.

“I’m not hurt, Bastian. I dodged the rogue tree branch.” Bastian still looks concerned but settles for intertwining one hand with mine. Saint’s looking between me and the tree in confusion, and I realize something. “That was me, wasn’t it?”

Saint shoves his hands in his pockets before turning to me. “Yep. It was definitely you. Ice-blue magic arced from you to the tree before it exploded.”

I open and close my mouth a few times, trying to understand what happened. “How did I go from no magic to murdering a tree?” I glance apologetically at what’s left of the tree I didn’t mean to blow up.

“Strong emotions seem to trigger your magic. You were pretty frustrated before it happened. Were you picturing anything in your mind before you blew up the tree?”

My cheeks burn, and I know they’ve turned bright red. I was totally picturing the poor evergreen meeting an untimely and excessively violent end.

Saint laughs at whatever he sees on my face. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Yeah, I was just so angry with myself that blowing up something sounded cathartic. So, I pictured a tree exploding, and then I felt better.” Seems like a totally normal thought process when I say it out loud. Oh well, it’s not like I’ve ever claimed to be normal or have even remotely normal coping strategies.

Saint nods like what I said made sense, but I’m pretty sure he’s just being nice. “Hmm. Give me a little time to think on how to use that for our next training. But you did accomplish something, so we’re taking a break.”

I don’t argue with him this time, too spooked by my magic blowing up an entire tree to want to keep practicing. Bastian, Saint, and I walk back into the house silently, all of us lost in our thoughts.

“I’m ready!”Bastian announces as he jogs down the steps in Saint’s house. The rest of us have been down here for fifteen minutes or so. We each packed a small bag to take with us. I’m just using the same backpack I brought with me here. Bastian and Xander both have backpacks, Saint has a messenger bag, and Malachi has a duffle.

It’s one in the afternoon, and we’re getting ready to leave for Paris. It’ll be around six in the evening when we get to France. Thanks to portaling, we don’t have to worry about catching a flight. Saint booked us rooms at a fancy mage hotel, so we can just show up right in their portaling room. Yep, they have an entire room dedicated to portal travel. It’s a touch insane, but that’s just how mages roll.

“Nice of you to finally join us,” Xander grouses from his spot on the edge of the sectional. In his medium gray button-down, dark jeans, and black boots, Xander’s the most dressed up of the five of us. Malachi’s wearing a navy pullover, jeans, and boots.

Bastian grins at his twin, his enthusiasm not dimmed by his sarcasm. “It is, isn’t it?” He bounds over and sits down next to me on the sofa. Slinging his arm around my shoulders, Bastianpulls me into his side. I lean into him for a moment, needing the comfort he’s offering.

I should be excited about going to Paris for the first time. I’ve always wanted to travel more, but all I can feel is dread that sits like a lead weight in my stomach. After reading the first of my mom’s letters, Xander was shot. I’m terrified that following this letter will lead to something even worse. If I thought I could get away with it, I’d go to Paris myself to keep the Wyldharts and Saint safe.

Unfortunately, I can’t do even a simple spell, much less create a portal. Mages can portal to anywhere they’ve seen before or see a picture of. But casting a portal is a huge magic drain. With little experience, a portal would probably wipe my magic out completely, which could take days to recover from.

Saint stands up from the couch and stretches his arms over his head. His shirt lifts up to reveal the bottom of his abs. I can’t help but stare at his defined muscles. “Are we all ready to go?” he asks, his voice tinged with amusement.

Snaping my gaze to his, I see Saint wearing a smug smirk. He definitely caught me checking him out. My cheeks burn in embarrassment, but it’s not my fault. Anyone would stare at muscles like those.

“Yeah, we’re good to go,” Malachi answers for the rest of us, not bothering to ask. I raise my eyebrows at him but don’t comment on it. Starting something with Malachi isn’t a smart idea right now, not with how on edge I am. He raises a brow at me in return, and I just shrug. Malachi assesses me for a long moment, and I fidget, unsure what to do.

Breaking eye contact, I stand up, pick up my bag, and go over to Saint. He waits until the Wyldharts join us before murmuring, “Aperire.” A portal snaps open, ringed in sparks colored red by Saint’s magic.

The portal opens to a room done entirely in shades of cream and gold. Grand Corinthian columns, intricate crown molding, and a coffered ceiling make the room feel luxurious.

Glancing down at my casual outfit, I wonder if they’ll even let me in this hotel when their portaling room is so fancy. Saint notices my mildly panicked assessment of my clothes. “You’re dressed perfectly, little shadow. And I’ve been to this hotel plenty of times. The staff are very friendly, so you have nothing to worry about.”

I give him a small nod as I watch him walk through the portal. It’s my turn next, so I wade through the sticky, gooey, all-around uncomfortable portal. When I pop out on the other side, my thoughts wander to my parents.

Both Mama and Papa were pretty well-off, but we rarely traveled. We lived simply and under the radar. While that was normal for me as a kid, now I wonder what the real reason was that we lived that way. I don’t think it was just so I wouldn’t be a spoiled rich kid. I’m pretty sure it was to keep Mama and me hidden from the Knights of Aeneas and whoever else wanted to use us for our connection to Dido.

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