Page 87 of Wickedly Yours

Zain’s presence brushed up against my mind—a reminder that he was here.

Shape it,he said, his thoughts like a caress against my spine.Turn it into whatever you desire.

Was it that easy? Sure, I’d been using my magic my whole life. I’d levitated bowls and stirred spoons, all without ever blinking an eye. I knew how to do those things like the back of my hand. It was natural.

This power felt foreign. It was mine, but it was also…his.The glimmering thread of white stretched between us.

“Do you feel that?” I whispered as if it was something I could grab onto and tangibly hold.

“Feelyou?”He practically purred. “Open your eyes, Luna.”

I did, and in the center of my palm was a white ball of light. Tiny—maybe nothing more than a parlor trick, but… itwasa tangible, physical manifestation of my power—more than just light filtering through my skin.

“What do I do with it?”

Zain raised an eyebrow. “What do youwantto do?”

“I don’t know.” I rolled my eyes, the power flickering out. “A little sphere isn’t very helpful.” Maybe ifit was bigger…

A smirk crossed his face, and he summoned two shadowy forms. “See if you can hit them,” he said, stepping aside.

Training dummies. He’d just used his power to make metraining dummies.

“What if I miss?” I swallowed roughly.

“The gardens will regrow,” he said with a laugh. “And if you hit someone, then we’ll know what you can do.”

“Zain!” I exclaimed. “I’m not trying to hurt your people.”

He was across the field in a second, pressing our hands together against my heart.“Ourpeople, Moonbeam. And you won’t.” A wicked gleam sparkled in his eyes. “I was assured no one would bother us.”

“Okay.” I gulped, and he stood at my back, his warmth bleeding into my body, washing away my apprehension.

I focused on the little ball of light in my palm, feeding it with more of the power that ran through me. What were my limits? I’d never done this before, and I was already curious howmuchof this magic I could use at once.

Feeding it more, it grew larger, to the size of a baseball, and then—a large, floating ball of light.Moonlight.Despite its appearance, it wasn’t hot, but was almost…cold.

What was I supposed to do now?Throw it?Could you even throw a ball of light?

If Zain was listening to my thoughts, he didn’t comment, but he mimicked me, gathering an orb of shadows—pure darkness—in his hands and then practically hurled it with lethal precision, crashing against one of the shadowy figures.

I did my best to copy him, though I didn’t have any of the grace that his demonic body possessed. Maybe because he’d had three hundred years to perfect this while I’d spent the last twenty-something years burying it deep inside of me.

The orb missed, fizzling out on the grass.Damn.My cheeks heated, but this time in mortification. I’d never been a very good shot.

He made a circular motion with his finger. “Try again.”

I nodded, repeating the process. Over and over and over again. Until finally, my blow landed, the shadowy form dissipating where my light hit it.

“Hm,” Zain mused from my side.“Interesting.”

“What?” I blinked.

He shook his head. “Think you can try something different?”

I shrugged. “Worth a shot, right?”

TWENTY-FIVE

---