“Who told you that?”
“Rowena.”
“It’s more shaping… than manipulating.”
I stifle a laugh. “Isn’t that the same thing?”
“It’s the intention.” Wrath’s lips are above my ear. “Magic is fickle. Shaping is like guiding it. Manipulating is more of an attempt to control it, which it doesn’t like.”
“Okay. Shape, don’t take,” I repeat the mantra.
Drawing a deep breath, I feel the magic around me and try to shape it. Wrath’s magic feels different today—more consuming. It surges through me like a violent tide, swallowing my thoughts and breath until all that’s left ishim.
I claim to loathe this man, but our intermingled magic says otherwise each time our skin touches. No matter how much I try to resist, I react the same—skin flushed, racing pulse, breath hitching in my throat, and a deep need for release. I’m too embarrassed to ask if Wrath also feels it, so I suffer in silence.
Lost in thought, I hit the ground, not realizing that I accidentally overcharged.
“You’re not listening to me.” Wrath’s tone is abrasive. “You have to focus.”
“I am focusing!” I huff as I stand.
“No, you’re not.” He narrows his gaze at me, adjusting his sleeves lower.
“Well, maybe if you weren’t standing so close?—”
“Flustered, Princess?”
I roll my eyes, smacking my hand against the cover with a bit more attitude than I intended. Pushing away all my conflicting emotions, I focus solely on the book. Wrath’s steady breaths sync with mine as he floods me with his magic once more. I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath, trying tosource it from the earth around me, remembering how I felt when I touched the Eldertree.
I think I’m finally doing it right when a void opens up and swallows me whole. Everything instantly turns black. I can’t tell if I’m floating or falling, caught in something untethered from reality. The occasional jolt of pain strikes through my veins like tiny lightning bolts. When I try to move, it only makes it worse, plunging me into a haze.
“Raelys.” I hear someone calling my name repeatedly. “Raelys!”
“Gods…” I murmur, still completely numb to my surroundings.
There’s something warm spreading across my skin, the center of my chest reverberating with a strange sensation. It feels like serenity, like safety, with a soft familiarity I can’t place. It almost feels like… home.
Am I dying?
My eyes crack open slowly as I groan. I try to take in my surroundings, but my vision blurs with painful streaks. Every pulse in my veins causes an aching throb to shoot through my temples, making my head feel impossibly heavy. Wrath studies me with a worried expression, searching my face for signs of life. He has one hand pressed above my heart, the other cupping my cheek as he gently holds my head upright.
“Wrath?” I croak out.
“You’re okay.” His tone is so gentle that it takes me by surprise. “I’ve got you.”
“Did I die?”
“You hit burnout,” he replies. “That’s what it feels like.”
As I attempt to lift my head, the ground shifts beneath me, the world spinning in rapid circles. The dizziness makes my stomach flip as nausea coils in my gut. I blink to clear the fog from my vision, but it makes Wrath’s outline blur even more.
“Do you understand why I’m trying to fix this?” Wrath is nothing but anguish. “My people are suffering. This curse is torment and agony like you’ve never felt.”
I can’t figure out what’s up from down. My eyelids droop as I fade again, only somewhat attuned to my surroundings. Wrath easily hoists me into his arms, and I fold into him, unable to pull myself above the surface.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To your room so you can rest,” he replies coldly.
