Page 8 of The Discovered
I furrowed my brow, letting imagery pass through like a montage. Its energy traveled down the length of my body in waves.
“Like warmth,” I said. “Shivers down the spine. Soft sweaters and blankets. The light of golden hour. Chamomile, pastels, ocean waves. The security of a mother’s love. Like belonging.” My voice faltered. I opened my eyes and looked away, flushed with embarrassment. Tapping into this energy with Daelon—this stranger—felt intimate. It was also a rush, but a softer, more controllable form of power than the other bursts I’d felt while angry, scared, or overwhelmed. It was like I was in tune with a current that ran through the entire universe.
A look resembling awe, or maybe just shock, brushed over Daelon’s features. He cocked his head, studying me for a few long seconds before clearing his throat.
“Now let’s see if you can use that energy for something more constructive, rather than a knee jerk reaction from free-channeling at the whims of your emotions.” He offered me his arm and led me to the kitchen, the stove now bereft of angry, spitting flames.
I took a deep breath, holding on to the pleasure of this so-called frequency. As wary as I was to dig into the power that my mothers feared—the power that for some reason made me and my loved ones so vulnerable to attack—I felt nearly giddy to wield the magick I felt now. Here in this place, it felt right. Like it was always meant to be.
And like Daelon said, it was different than what coursed through me when I was backed into a corner. It filled a hollowness inside me I’d spent many years in the human realm ignoring and suppressing. I knew at its core that this energy was good in the truest sense of the word. It was transcendent and… connective. I sensed my mothers in this power.
I smiled, maybe for the first time since I woke up in this foreign realm.
Daelon’s eyes lit up, the corners of his mouth tipping upward. “I think we’re making progress already, little witch.”
I feigned annoyance and scrunched my nose. “Whatever,” I said.
He gestured to a pale purple candle on the kitchen island.
“Let’s see if you can channel just a touch of this energy to light this candle. Emphasis onjust a touch. I quite like this house, as do you, it would seem.” He narrowed his eyes at me, and I tried not to let his scolding tone mess with my buzz. “For all intentional magick, from the casual and small-scale to the more laborious spells and rituals, it’s best to visualize your intent as if it’s already occurred. You need to believe the candle is already lit, not that it will become lit. That’s where the true power lies.”
I concentrated on the tingling in my skin, gathering it in the tips of my fingers to focus my intention. It was like I already knew on some level how to do this—and to do so much more. I followed this mental roadmap of instinct as I gathered up the energy I had channeled, calling on visions of fire in particular. I tried to be careful not to let too much rush out at once, but the power was harder to control than I thought as I let some pass through my fingers.
I grinned. Sure enough, a flame encircled the candle’s wick and flickered wildly.
Daelon sighed as light flowed in from the living room suddenly, a dull rumble of flames erupting. I peered over at the grand fireplace now alight, along with the line of tall white candles on the mantle above. The flames reached up emphatically.
“Well, close enough,” he muttered, extinguishing the flames with a gesture.
I couldn’t help the satisfied giggle that escaped my mouth. Daelon regarded me with bewilderment, as if surprised by the sound. He cocked his head ever so slightly, and the sudden intensity in his chiseled features made my stomach churn. I had to stop myself from getting lost in it.
His eyes softened as I hobbled over to the bar stools behind the island, huffing when I realized they were too tall for me to climb without help. I was growing tired of this helplessness.
Daelon let out a small breath and hoisted me up, his face frustratingly unreadable again. I tried to ignore the electricity of his hands on my waist.
“Now that our impromptu training session is over, I’m going to need you to behave while I cook. Think happy thoughts,” he said. “You’ll need your strength to heal quicker.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, which he only met with an amused half-smile as he got back to cooking pasta. Funny that he thought he could talk to me this way when, from what I’ve gathered, I could destroy him with the flick of a wrist.
Or could I?
“Wait, you said you were a shield, and that’s why I can’t read your energy… so if I were to say, grow tired of you and want you to perish, would you be able to stop me?”
Daelon paused for a moment and then laughed, nearly snorting. It was a laugh that made me want to laugh too, but I didn’t. It was fairly deflating that he didn’t even seem intimidated by my threats.
“No,” Daelon finally said. “Rest assured that you have access to enough power to end me whenever you want. I’m just better trained than you, for now.” He turned from the stove to study my face, his eyes coaxing. His admittance reassured me. “You won’t ever need to test that out, though. Believe me when I say I have your best interests at heart. I’m here to help you.”
“So you say,” I muttered. “Also, where exactly is Aradia? Like in relation to Earth? And how can we go between them?”
“Full of questions, are we?”
I scoffed. “How can I not be?” I had plenty more where those came from.
Daelon dished up the now completed vegetable pasta wordlessly and slid the bowl in front of me. Staring down at the fusilli topped with tomatoes, onions, and fresh basil made my mouth water. I was suddenly aware of my ravenous hunger, lifting a forkful to my mouth self-consciously as Daelon stared.
“Is it good?”
“Yes,” I admitted, looking at him expectantly as he let my unanswered questions hang in the air between us.
