Page 102 of Brutal Alpha Beast
“It’s okay,” I tell her, moving strands of hair off her face. “So, you’ll try again, but not now, you’re burning up.”
I lead her to the nearest chair, where she slumps with a quiet sigh.
“I’m gonna get some water,” she says, but I reach down and hand her a bottle I’ve been keeping chilled in a portable cooler.
“I got you.”
She smiles, bringing it to her lips. “I feel like a baby,” she says.
“You are,” I tease.
Mid-sip, she playfully hits me.
I laugh. “In all seriousness, Danielle. You’ve been working harder than anyone I know.”
***
We’re trying again. This time, we’ve taken the tapestry and are testing it outside.
Danielle always says that the elements help. She was having nightmares last night, continuously waking up screaming.
It’s overcast, and I’m in my wolf form upon request. She says that might help, too. Danielle has her eyes shut, chanting as she rests her hand on the tapestry. She’s trying a different spell to conjure the magic this time. I helped with extracting all the different options noted in the books. It’s good to know I’m helping even though nothing has worked.
I watch as a faint glow sparkles around her and then the tapestry.
It’s weak, white-like mist—barely there. Then something else happens.
In the center of the tapestry, there’s a spark. Like striking a match, it’s powerful and bright.
Then there’s another one—and then there’s what looks like a magical flame.
Danielle sways back and forth.
Come on.
I want to edge closer, but I don’t move, I don’t want to mess anything up—my paws are planted firmly on the ground.
Danielle rocks a little more, her chanting gets louder, and the flame expands.
I hold my breath, focus my eyes, as though I’m casting magic, too.
Being so involved in this process has made me feel like I’m casting, and it’s exhausting; I can’t imagine how tiring it would be if I actually were.
The flame expands and then, in an instant, is gone.
Danielle screams—a guttural moan of pain.
I shift back and catch her just in time before she collapses to the floor.
“Shh,” I soothe, wrapping my arms around her shaking body. “You’re fine. You’re safe.”
She’s burning hot, and I grab one of the bottles of water, pressing it to her head.
Her shaking starts to lessen, but she’s still muttering to herself with words that are so quiet, I can barely hear them.
Maybe she’s still casting.
“It’s time to stop,” I murmur into her ear.
