“How do I fix it?” She ground out between clenched teeth.
“Here. May I?” I stepped into her space, chest nearly brushing her back. Her spine straightened, but she did not protest. “Wield your mágik once more.”
As the sphere formed in her palm, I touched lightly at her collarbone. “Feel the mágik here first, pay attention to the way it flows through you.”
My fingers trailed across her shoulder and down her arm until my hand cupped hers, palm brushing knuckles. I wrapped my other armaround her waist, my left hand coming to rest upon her stomach. She was warm and lithe, and my blood hummed to be so near.
“Do you feel it? That power growing within your gut and the moment when it threatens to break free?” When she nodded, her hair brushed my neck. Her scent—honey and polished steel—washed over me. I inhaled, breath stirring the hesitant air around us. “Let that feeling guide you. Take that unease and turn it into a partnership. Let the mágik serve you.”
Our bodies became flush as she took a half step back. Or had I pulled her to me?
Seren’s mágik swelled to the breaking point then rippled forward—a slow stuttering path, but one that landed true.
I pulled away, cold without her warmth against me.
She turned to me, quiet pride gracing her features. “I did it!”
“You did. Try again. See if you can maintain your aim when you add a bit more speed.” I moved a few paces away, desperate to put distance between us. I tried to ignore the way I absorbed every one of her movements and expressions.
I was a fool. She had seen a piece of my soul, and I could think of nothing else. Why did Seren have to be the one to see through me? She was infuriating and stubborn and in another handful of weeks, I would never see her again.
Her third shot sailed in a smooth arc, shaking the tree's wide trunk and sending leaves fluttering from their branches.
“Please, tell me you were watching that one. That was really good!” Seren’s excitement quickly dissipated as a Tünécris emerged from the base of the tree, a nearly imperceptible door cracking open in the bark.
The sprite was unharmed—her worries had been unfounded—but the creature was furious and… wet. The remnants of Seren’s water mágik dripped off the tree trunk, landing on the sprite’s head. It flew toward her, squeaking angrily. She stared at it with wide-eyed panic. “Harkin, what do I do?”
“I guess there was a Tünécris living in this tree after all.” I could hardly keep the amusement from my voice.
“Obviously,” she spat. “Help me!”
The creature fluttered around her, surely cursing her in its own language.
Seren lifted her hands placatingly, and the sprite swooped upon her, sinking its razor sharp teeth into her finger. She shrieked, waving her arm wildly.
The Tünécris dislodged, tumbling through the air before catching its balance.
“The little devil bit me!” Seren was still screaming, and my laughter bubbled up unbidden. “Stop laughing! Make it go away!”
I felt the laughter throughout my entire body—in the pleasant ache around my middle. My shoulders shook with the effort of holding it back. I grabbed Seren’s wrist, tugging her behind me.
“We are very sorry for intruding upon you.” I bowed my head to the sprite. “Please accept our sincere apologies.”
The Tünécris shot forward, giving my hair a great tug with its tiny hands, giving us both a final glare before storming back to its home and slamming the door.
I chuckled, smoothing a hand over my head.
Seren pinched my arm. “Did you know it was there all along? Was that a trick?”
“No—I swear it—but I almost wish it had been. I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard.” My cheeks ached from smiling.
Her eyes narrowed. “Remember what I said before? About you meeting the Gryffem? Keep this up and see if that promise doesn’t ring true.”
“I have never doubted the might of your wrath, Ren.” The nickname slipped between my lips before I could stop it. I had the lingering memory of calling her that once before, as I lay wounded on the floor encumbered by an injury induced half-sleep.
“You had better not,” Seren huffed, cradling her bleeding, bitten finger.
“Let me see your battle wounds,” I demanded, reaching for her already.
