I’d known from the first time I met her she didn’t care to know me. Her mind had long been poisoned by Marcus, and there was no telling what hatred she harbored for Damien and his group—for me now. I’d hoped I could find some peace after we’d stopped Marcus, but clearly it was wishful thinking.
The afternoon sun shined through the clouds above us. It was almost warm for the first time in weeks, so I shed my jacket and tossed it on a nearby chair on The Outpost training grounds. The forest was dormant around us, countless bare trees stretching out for miles, the yard busy with Thalia’s recruits working on their training. We’d come here every day since we started my training, after I’d discovered what I was: a demigoddess, born to fight the enemies of the Goddess of the Moon and Creator of The Immortal Race, Selene.
It was still a strange reality to absorb. Only a few months prior I’d been like every other human, weak and oblivious to the dangers lurking in the shadows around us, to the monsters who’d happily devour you under the cover of night.
One thing hadn’t changed, though. My internal clock was still ticking away, still counting down the days until my heart would give out.
I needed to tell Damien. He deserved to know. Still, no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t bring myself to do it, couldn’t find the right words. I’d made numerous attempts over the last couple of months, but every time I gathered enough courage, something would happen, and it would fall through at the last moment. I was such a damn coward.
Damien tugged at my shoulders, pulling me back to his chest as he laid a tender kiss on my shoulder. “Hold still.”
A smile tugged at my lips as his fingers combed through my hair before he started to braid.
“I missed doing this for you,” he whispered.
Warmth spread through my chest, and I tried to recall the memories he was reliving. “You used to braid my hair?”
“All the time.” He tied the end before letting the braid slip from his fingertips over my shoulder, then leaned in to say. “Though I enjoy messing it up even more.”
My cheeks warmed, the warmth shifting to heat, and my heart danced as I imagined just how he would do it.
“We gonna start working on training the little spitfire to control her Stoicheion ability?” Barrett cut in from across the clearing.
All heat left me, and uneasiness sank into the pit of my stomach at the thought. He wasn’t wrong; I needed to learn how to master it. It was a dangerous ability, and I was afraid if I didn’t know how to properly use it, I might set our house on fire this time, or seriously hurt someone.
Get over it.
“We haven’t fully finished her shifting training,” Zephyr argued.
“She changed into an owl at your last session,” Barrett said.
“Yeah, and then she ate dirt when she tried to fly,” Vincent added with a teasing grin.
My lips pressed into a thin line. Just what I needed, a reminder of that blow to my pride. It had hurt, too.
“All I know is she lit shit up when we went after Marcus,” Barrett said. “That’s some serious power in the hands of someone who doesn’t know how to use it.” A calm passed over his expression, all joking put aside. “Power like that could do some serious damage. She could hurt someone. Besides, if she can master it, she’ll have an advantage against the darklings when shit hits the fan.”
I glanced back at Damien. His gaze didn’t meet mine, and I could see the conflict in those amber and ashen eyes. It would be no surprise if he was worried after what happened the last time I’d used the ability—when Damien had looked on in horror as I burned Marcus alive.
He deserved what he got.
I winced at the voice in my head. No, that wasn’t who I was. I was me. I was in control.
“He has a point,” Damien said, and looked back at me. “Do you think you’re ready for this?”
“I really should try. I don’t want to risk hurting anyone.”
Barrett stood and walked over to me. “All right, let’s get to it, then!”
I forced a smile to ease Damien’s concern as I stepped forward. Zephyr, Vincent, and Thalia eased down into chairs to watch from the sidelines. Damien didn’t budge, though, and he remained a short distance behind me.
“Like Damien’s shadow magic, the different elements used by House Stoicheion can be directly influenced by your emotions,” Barrett explained. “Anger and passion can enhance fire. Too much, and it will burn out of control, too little and it won’t sustain the spark. You must maintain a balance.”
I tilted my head. “Your hotheaded personality suddenly makes a lot more sense.”
Barrett cracked a grin, his steel eyes lighting as he stared down his nose at me. “Cool it, spitfire, or I’ll teach you how to wield the flame a different way. And you won’t like that, I promise.”
“I’m really interested to see you try,” Damien warned.
