Claire.
I ran into the foyer to find her curled in a ball, the walls around her ablaze with light. River extinguished the inferno with a mist of power while I clamped down on her gifts with my own, calming them on instinct.
She trembled, a cry escaping her throat as a pixie squeezed out of her grasp with an angry chirp. Another wave of fiery power spiked across the room in response, Claire quivering violently on the ground. “This isn’t real,” she whispered on repeat. “This isn’t real. Fairies don’t exist.”
Exos snorted. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He gestured to her as if to say,This. I can’t deal with this.And returned to the dining room.
I sighed. His lack of patience made him a shitty mentor. No wonder he needed me.
Crouching beside her, I murmured, “They’re not real, Claire. Elana conjured them to help with dinner.”
“Wh-what?” Glassy blue eyes met mine. “C-conjured?”
I smiled. “Yes, fae magic.” I held out my hand for her. “Come on, I’ll show you.”
She swallowed. “I… I don’t…”
“They’re harmless,” I promised. “Just little pixies. You’ll see.”
“Sh-she tried t-to pull my dress, and I… I…”
“You reacted,” I finished for her. “But everything’s fine.” I gestured around the foyer. “Not even a charred mark.” Thanks to River’s hasty reaction. And likely Elana’s, too. “Come on, sweetheart. I think you’ll like the little fairies once you see them in action.”
“Exos s-said f-fairies weren’t real.”
“Because they’re not,” he called from the other room.
Her eyes widened. “But ittouchedme.”
“Yes, I told you. Elana’s powerful.” I waggled my fingers. “Will you come to the dining area with me?”
She slowly lifted her palm to mine, allowing me to help her up from the floor. The pretty purple dress she wore fluttered around her knees, her hair damp and combed over one shoulder. I tucked a stray strand behind her ear and caught the fiery ember drifting up her neck in response.
The power inside her seemed ready to explode.
“Hey, do me a favor,” I whispered.
Her beautiful blue eyes held mine, her lashes thick as she blinked. “Wh-what?”
“Put your hands up like this.” I held mine in front of me, palms outward to face her.
She copied the motion with a frown. “Okay.”
“Now I want you to think about everything that’s bothering you, all the pain, the anger, the frustration and confusion. And I want you to channel it into your hands like you want to hit someone.” At her incredulous look, I smiled. “Trust me. Just pull all that energy into your arms and let it fly through your palms. Like you’re gearing up to punch someone in a fight.”
“I don’t fight,” she mumbled.
“But you’re angry, right?” I pressed. “Upset? Confused?”
“Of course I am.”
“And wouldn’t it feel really good to just hit someone?”
“Yes.” No hesitation. “But not you. I’d rather hit Exos.”
I couldn’t help my chuckle. “Well, we’d all enjoy that. But I want you to try to hit me. Pretend I’m him.”
She shook her head. “You’re not. You’re actually nice to me.”
