I thrust my hand forward, reaching for my magic… witch-fire, blood-work,anything. The power that should flow as easily as breathing.
My palm remains cold and empty.
I close my fist, trying to summon the tingle of energy that precedes a spell. The way magic used to rise through my veins like champagne bubbles, effervescent and eager.
Nothing.
I speak the words for a simple illumination charm. The syllables taste right on my tongue—ancient and resonant—but they fall dead into the air.
No spark. No glow. No warmth spreading from my center.
“No. No, no, no!” My voice climbs higher with each repetition.
I’m hollow. Gutted. Whatever force is suppressing my dragon has takeneverything. Even my witch power.
I’m just… human.
Completely, utterly human.
For the first time in my life.
My knees buckle.
“Ember!” Luke catches me before I hit the ground, one arm around my waist. His skin is warm against mine, shocking in its heat. “What did I say about exhausting yourself?”
“I had to try.” My voice sounds distant. Wrong. “I can’t be nothing.”
“You’re not nothing.” His grip tightens, steadying me. “You’re grounded. There’s a difference.”
“I don’t see one.”
“Then you’re not looking hard enough.” He releases me carefully, making sure I can stand before letting go completely. “Come on. Get dressed. We need to move.”
I stare at him. Then realize what he just said. I’m still freaking naked. And he’s just inches away. Stepping back, I reach down and snatch up my pants, hastily tugging them on before turning to find my bra and shirt. I’m struggling not to let panic take hold.
“It’s going to be fine, Ember,” he says soothingly, like he’s talking to a startled animal.
I take him in as I pull my shirt on and button it; the calm in his voice, the steady certainty in his eyes. Like losing our dragons is just another problem to solve.
It makes me furious.
“How are you so okay with this?” I demand.
“I’m not okay with it. But falling apart won’t change it.”
“So you just… accept it?”
“I adapt to it. There’s a difference.”
I stare at him for a moment. He’s still shirtless, standing within touching distance, and the moonlight catches every line of him. The broad planes of his chest. The shadows pooling in the hollows of his collarbones.
My pulse kicks hard against my ribs. Not from magic, not from fear. Something else entirely. Something unfamiliar and unwelcome.
I’ve seen men before. Well, notmen.Clumsy, eager boys who kissed like they were trying to prove something. Soft hands and softer bodies that never quite matched the heat inside me. They were experiments. Curiosities.
This isn’t that.
This man is all hard lines and coiled control.
