Page 8 of Untamed

“She’s trying. You act like she didn’t accidentally kill her best friend with her gift. I would be terrified to use my powers again if someone died with the wave of my hand.”

“Many people have died at the wave of your hand.”

“Ezer,” Mamá reprimanded.

“What? It’s true. But you know how to control your abilities. That’s why we need someone to train her. I don’t understand her gifting, and she needs someone to help.”

“You can’t demand her to obey you when she’s traumatized. Especially if you aren’t willing to compromise.”

A silent minute rang louder than their argument. My chin fell to my chest, and tears dribbled over my cheeks. All this time, I thought Papá had been softening to the idea of letting Zichri visit or even eventually allowing for a betrothal without a treaty.

“Do you feel that?” Papá asked.

My eyes snapped wide, and the muscles in my legs stilled from an invisible pressure.

“There’s someone.” Papá swung his door open. “Who do you think—Beatriz?”

A greeting quivered out my throat. “Ehh … I came to …” The pressure melted from around my calves.

“How long have you been standing there?” Papá asked.

I swallowed a lump of worry so big, I thought my stomach might erupt. There was no freeing myself from accusation. Better to make my request. “Papá, I need you to let Zichri visit.”

Papá turned his hazel eyes over his shoulder toward Mamá.

Mamá maintained a regal chin and lifted a dark brow. A hint of amusement pressed the corners of her full lips, saying I told you so. I needed to practice that look some more in the mirror.

Papá returned his stern gaze toward me. “No.”

“But Papá, this won’t change any of your dealings with Himzo. And I have inf—”

“No.”

My throat constricted as if my insides inflamed all at once. I pressed my fingers over my warm neck, massaging my flesh. What was this wretched curse? Like earlier, when I couldn’t speak about Monserrat’s letters.

Mamá drew near and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

I prayed.Ancient One, please heal my throat, and change Papá’s heart.

Papá scratched his peppered beard, glancing at Mamá. “Then, perhaps … you can join your brother’s band of Dotados?”

Swallowing, I decided to avoid Monserrat’s revelation. I’d find another time and way to share Aracibel’s betrayal. Better to speak than be silenced. The invisible grip over my tongue subsided, allowing movement to return to my mouth.

“Beatriz? Did you hear me?” Papá asked.

I cleared my throat. “How can I join them? I don’t have a gift to offer.”

Papá’s thick eyebrows knotted together. “You have powers.”

“Powers I will never use again.” Prickles of magic raced along my arms. I fisted my hands, pressing my nails into my palms.

“Then, my dear Beatriz, the answer is no. Zichri may not step foot inside the palace grounds unless he plans to become a prisoner.”

“Please, Ezer.” Mamá bit her lip at one sharp look from Papá.

He said in a measured tone, “Our daughter can have what she desires if she learns to use her gifting. Compromise. Remember?”

Short breaths pushed from my chest. Sweat beaded my nose. I clapped a hand over my mouth, trying to calm down. An image of blood dripping from my best friend’s mouth because of what I’d done flashed through my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut, but it was still there.

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