Page 117 of Enspelled

“Briar?” Sera’s voice is so stunned that I turn to find her half-tucked behind a tree, the air around her thick with magic.

My gaze moves to the two wolves standing in front of her.

They were protecting her so she could hit Aunt Mel with her spells.

The wolves turn to me, but I don’t have time to reassure Keane that I’m okay. I shift my full attention to Aunt Mel, who looks even more surprised than Sera did.

“You’re dead,” she whispers. “I killed you.”

I glance down and blanch, because I’m not wearing a damn thing. On the ground near my feet are burned scraps of green fabric. They must be from the dress I was wearing.

But there are no burns, no scars, nothing at all. I’m okay.

I lift my head and meet her eyes. “I’m a phoenix. We rise from the ashes.”

For a second she doesn’t speak. But then she laughs as she raises her hands. “Well, we’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?”

Power leaves her fingers. I see the reddish-orange flames in it, like I didn’t before. But now I do, so I hold my hand up palm-side toward it. “This is mine,” I say as the power hits, and I absorb it into my body.

It sinks into me, warm and familiar, settling in my gut as if it’s always lived there. And in a way, it has. I’d feel it sometimes, even if I didn’t know how to control it.

Aunt Mel takes a small step back, fearful surprise flashing across her face. “That should have killed you.”

“You can’t kill me with my own power.” I take a step forward. “And about that—I want it back.”

I don’t give her a chance to prepare. My eyes narrow as I track all the places I feel my power inside her, and I grip onto it andpull.

She gasps and jerks as I suck all the power she stole back into me. “No,” she whispers. “No.”

I look at her, and I see her as something to be pitied, not feared. “You made your entire life about what people thought about you. About power. You killed my parents, and you killed Abigail, because of your insecurities.”

Even now she must know that she’s lost. She hugs the grimoire against her chest.

“That doesn’t belong to you,” I tell her.

“It does,” she whispers, stubbornness creeping into her eyes.

“No, it doesn’t.” Keane’s gruff voice surprises me, and I dart a glance at him at the same time Sera calls out.

“Watch out, she’s casting—”

But I’m already reacting to the flare of nasty magic she’s aiming at Keane.

I grab for the power that lives inside me, and like an excited child, it flies out of me. There’s no hesitation, no doubt in my mind that it isn’t mine to control.

One moment Aunt Mel is standing, her face twisted with fury, and the next she’s just… gone.

The grimoire thumps to the ground as ash flutters in the air.

No one speaks for several seconds.

“I take it you’re no longer broken, then,” Keane says.

My feet give way beneath me.

In seconds, Keane is on his knees in front of me, his hands framing my face as he peers into my eyes. “Are you okay?”

I take a long moment to think about it, and then I nod. “I’m okay.”

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