My fingertips start to burn, heat pulsing under my skin—my magic trembling on the edge of exploding out of me.
I can’t just sit here and let this happen, but if I let it go… I don’t know what it will do...
Last time, it wasn’t just Ryven who my magic hurt. It wasn’t just Elijah's sister. It was me.And if anyone catches me interfering, I’ll be reassigned.
That’s the rule, right?Once a Demonstration begins—magical or physical—there is to be no interference.
But if I don’t… If Ezzy dies because I was too afraid to act? I won’t survive that either. Not the guilt. Not the knowing.
I have seconds. Seconds to choose—her life, or mine.
Maybe this time I can control it.
Maybe no one will notice if I step in.
But deep down, I know the truth... that once I release my Threads, there is no pulling them back in. Still, it's the only thing I have...
I risk a glance up. Elijah’s pacing toward Ezzy and I catch a glimpse of her face. God, no. She’s figured it out. The fear's there now, clear, cutting through the calm she wore like armour. She’s connected the dots. She knows what this is. And she’s alone down there, with no one moving to stop it. I have to do something, anything?—
Elijah lifts his leg. I look away. Ezzy cries out again.
This time, her soundripsthrough the air and lands hard in my body, like it doesn’t belong to her anymore. Like her pain has been transferred, hammered straight into my ribs. But it’s not just pain I feel.
It’s herfear.
Raw and hot and crawling under my skin like it’s mine, and finally, something inside me ruptures. A pulse surges from deep in my gut—heat and pressure flaring under my skin, pounding like a second heartbeat. The air tastes like copper, and my vision narrows, tightens, tunnels.
No control. No logic.
Just instinct.
Just magic.
Just Ezzy’s cry—and the way my Threadsanswerit.
The pressure that’s been building all day finally detonating—not clean, not quiet. It tears through me like a tendon snapping, like bone grinding against bone. And suddenly, my magic isn't contained anymore. It’s furious, like wildfire with nowhere to burn.
Maybe they’ll catch me.
Maybe they’ll break me.
Fine, let them.
Just as long as it's not her.
I draw my hands in tight, every muscle braced to hold the storm back for one more second. Just one. Then I fix my eyes.
Not on Ezzy, curled in the corner.
But to Elijah.
His face is still blank, cold, untouched. Like Ezzy’s pain isn’t even real to him. Then I start to uncurl one finger at a time, shaking, deliberate, desperately to keep control. But my Threads respond instantly, not gentle, not subtle. They slide out into the air thick and heavy.
Stalking.Hunting.
My hands tremble under the weight of it, magic crawling down my arms like fire beneath the skin. I grit my teeth, force my thoughts into a narrow channel.
Not everyone, justhim.
