“You may not get it the first time,” I say quietly. “I couldn’t call my magic with the lock in place, no matter how hard I tried. And even after Ian unlocked my magic, I struggled. My magic was erratic. It took a lot of practice for me to be able to call my magic, but now it’s second nature to me. I learned a lot from Ian. He helped me catch up to my peers, workingwith me every week to teach me what I’d been missing. I wouldn’t be the mage I am if not for his help.”
Cora grits her teeth. “I don’t want to join his lessons.”
I feel a spike of shame from Ian through our bonds, but I know it’s not his fault. Like many of the omegas, Cora is afraid of most alphas. For most of the omegas in the castle, alphas have only ever caused them pain and strife.
“Then I’ll teach you!” I say brightly, clapping my hands together decisively.
She turns away, biting her lip again. “You’re busy. You have the others to train.”
“Cora, I promise I’ll make time to teach you.”
I just catch her nod. When she turns back to me, she’s apprehensive, yet there’s a light of hope in her eyes I haven’t seen before.
I makethe time for her I promised. While the other omegas are practicing their affinities, Cora and I duck into the room where Ian created the safety chamber, and she retreats into its warded walls, letting out an unsteady breath.
“All right,” I say, determined. “To call your magic, you need to focus on the well of magic inside you. Breathe deeply and slowly and imagine pulling a thread of that magic up through your body and out of your scribe.”
Cora rolls her lower lip between her teeth but nods. She shakes off her nerves and stands tall, breathing slowly like I instructed her. I watch her chest rise and fall as she centers herself.
She tries to call her magic. And she tries. And tries again.
After ten attempts, I can tell she’s ready to throw her scribe to the ground.
“Try one more time? For me?” I plead.
“Fine,” she sighs.
She centers herself once more, the wrinkle in her forehead smoothing out as she breathes. This time, the tip of her scribe lights with a great burst of energy. It ricochets around the safety chamber in flashes of light before finally fizzling out near her feet.
We work through the afternoon, but her magic remains explosive, no matter how much I coach her to draw up a single thread of it.
I’m sitting against the wall in the small room when the realization strikes me. “Cora, what if your unrestrained power is causing the pain to others?”
“Then I shouldn’t be casting,” she says, her voice low and wounded.
“I know you can control it. You just need to focus. We’ll keep working on this tomorrow, all right?”
“Why are you doing this, Juniper? I don’t deserve all this time and attention. I’m… I’m a burden.”
“You’re anything but,” I tell her with a gentle smile. “You’re worthy of freedom and power. And friendship.”
She smiles faintly. “If you say so.”
When we train the next morning, her magic is still erratic, but less explosive. She must have worked away in the safety chamber late into the night last night, because her control is improving.
And it does, slowly and steadily as we work together. After a week of working to call her magic, I’m certain she’s ready to start casting.
“Your control is getting so good, Cora. I think it’s time to learn sigils and work on your casting. Here, I made you a stack of flashcards of first order sigils.”
“Flashcards?” she asks incredulously. “Damn, I didn’t know you were such a nerd.”
My jaw drops open, but there’s a hint of mischief dancingin her eyes. I give her the biggest grin I can muster, feeling it ache in my cheeks. “Oh, yeah. Huge nerd. Now get to memorizing. Therewillbe a quiz.”
She groans good-naturedly. “Maybe I should join your mate’s class. He doesn’t do quizzes.”
“Nope,” I tell her. “You’re all mine now. Mine to quiz and test and torment. You’d better get used to it!”
CHAPTER TWELVE
