No.
I’m not going to let that dampen my spirit or dishearten me in my quest. Lifting my chin and puckering one hand into a determined fist as I chug down the rest of my hot cocoa, I set out to the living room, where there’s enough open space to test out my powers.
I would have gone outside, but Elias begged me to remain indoors in case the demon tracked me down to Girdwood. The house arrest serves as fuel to my fire of determination, even if it’s just a tiny spark for now. I need to find it within me, so I close my eyes and focus my concentration on seeking the flicker of the flame that may ignite my powers.
It takes me some time to empty my mind, and until I become void of thoughts, I’m able to find stillness through deep, conscious breaths. Inhale and exhale—it was a breathing exercise Grandmother taught me while I was growing up. She claimed the benefits were good health, but I have reason to believe that there was hidden wisdom in her lessons.
Within the black abyss behind my eyelids, I notice a tiny speck of amethyst in the center, recalling what my grandmother used to call the third eye. I gasped when I realized she’d sprinkled little clues along the way throughout the years she spent raising me before she died.
It’s that small speck of violet light that grows wider when I concentrate on it, taking deep breaths to maintain the stillness I’ve found. The circle of light grows large and crystalline, the amethyst mist translucent and allowing faint traces of powerful gold to shine through.
When the two colors begin a dance at the center of my head like gears turning to ignite an engine, I feel the power surging through my spine from the base to my third eye, and when it shoots through my vision with a jolting current, my eyes snap open.
I lift my tingling palms to see the veins pulsing with amethyst light from my mind’s eye, a pompous smirk growing on my lips. I’ve never felt more powerful than I do now, so sure of myself, so confident. I turn my attention to my surroundings, noticing the fresh firewood stacked in the fireplace, and grin.
Using the wood as my target, I turn my palms over and direct my focus on the square fireplace, feeling the power build up in my core before spreading out to my fingertips. A flicker of lilac light emanates from my palms, but before it can reach the fireplace, it dies out and dissipates in the air.
Puffing out my irritation, the lilac light in my palms dies out too.
“What—” I grumble testily, losing all my concentration in a split second.
So, getting upset with myself isn’t going to do the trick.
I’ll have to be more careful and more centered as I attempt that again, going through the motions of becoming still all over again.
This time, I remind myself that this is my first time practicing, and it’s not the end of the world if I can’t yield the results I’m looking for. I open my eyes again, confidence flooding my being while remaining calm as I direct my palms to the fireplace.
A gust of power rocks my body as it filters through my palms, flashing out like two lightning bolts of amethyst thatmeet in the center of the living room before exploding through the stack of wood and igniting purple licks of fire in the fireplace.
“Woah!” I exclaim, pride swelling my chest and shaping a wide smile of satisfaction on my face. I turn my palms inward, staring at them with wonder.
I can’t believe I just did that.
Mimicking the way I just shot out bolts of energy from my palms, I face them toward the fire again, but an uncontrollable surge of power shudders through me, so forceful that it knocks me down. Flashes of energy burst out from my palms, the curtains in the living room catching fire before I burn a hole in the ceiling.
“No!” I exclaim, scrambling onto my knees as I close my fists over my palms. “Oh, my Goddess! No!”
The fire that rages in front of me turns rabid, consuming its surroundings faster than any ordinary fire can spread. When the unplanned flames reach out to the fireplace, a shockwave echoes through the room, knocking me back down with a force that shudders through the air.
The fire spreads out all over the room, and my eyes widen as panic sets in.
How am I going to put this out?
I lift my palms to my face, regret washing over me in waves that bring tears to my eyes as a sob lodges in my throat. I can’t undo what I’ve done. With this power that I have yet to control or understand comes destruction as wood cracks and glass shatters all around the room.
Taking a disturbed look around the room, I spot a framed photograph perched on the ledge just above the fireplace, about to be swallowed by the thick purple and red flames. There’s afamiliar face pictured there, but his hazel eyes are fresh and innocent, untouched by the responsibilities he bears as the leader of this pack. Elias’s father stands on one side while his mother leans over him, about to press a kiss to the top of his head.
I’d barely noticed the photograph before, having been determined to remain as neutral as I could to the alpha. But now that I’ve set fire to his house just when I was beginning to warm up to his encouragement, a heavy sense of regret spurs me to my feet.
I need to save the photograph, my eyes fixed on Elias’s younger face, giving me the courage and reassurance that I might be able to fix this and undo the mess I’ve made.
If I can save the picture, I can stop the fire. I’m sure of it. All I need to do is get closer and harness the powers resting inside me.
When I’m on my feet, I will myself to brave the scorching flames. I’m about to take a bold step forward when out of nowhere, a pair of large, strong hands grab my shoulders and reel me back. A frightful shriek leaves my lips, the forceful motion quick and effortless as I’m pulled off my feet and into warm, protective arms. Through the gray smoke that billows out with rage all around me, I land against a solid chest of immaculately constructed muscle, my breath catching when I realize I’m in Elias’s embrace.
His face is stern, expression compressed as he keeps his eyes forward, lips pressed into a firm line. My heart skips a beat, terror lurking as close as the next beat, when I notice his anger.
I feel it pulsing off him as he carries me out of the burning house, his nostrils flaring the moment he steps out, and a flurry of pack members rush inside to deal with the fire. He doesn’tstop until we’re in the open garden behind his house, at a safe distance away from the fire that’s consuming most of the house now.
