“Just follow my lead.”
Kane held out his hands, palms up. “Tell me what to do.”
“Here and here.” She pointed on either side of the stone. “Make sure your thumb and part of your palm touch the stone and the wood.”
He placed his hands where she indicated. His form was almost perfect.
Almost.
“It’s not quite?—”
“Show me.” He placed his hand softly on her waist and pulled her in front of him. Kane stood half a foot taller, the shadow of his body engulfing hers. He resumed his position. Hands back against the wood and stone.
Erinna set her palms on the back of his hands, too deep in focus to consider their proximity. Her fingers laced through Kane’s as she guided his into perfect position.
“Mmm, it’s not…” she started more to herself. Witchstone was nearly as fickle as arcanum, especially for an untrained user. It was more about instinct than instruction, and if Kane didn’t get it right on this first shot, there would be very few chances left. If any.
Kane removed his hands to switch them with hers.
Erinna’s heart finally stuttered at their proximity. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest against her back, where his breath ghosted across her neck. Every nerve ending sparked to life as she became acutely aware of how close they were. How good it felt.
She blinked hard.
Focus. Now was not the time for mistakes.
Erinna closed her eyes and felt the space where wood stopped and stone started. The large gem thrummed faintly with the remnants of Asher’s Talent. She tried her best, but the witchstone spat the magic out in her face.
There—the place that was coldest. Small indents in the stone that asked for more. Hungered for power and its particulars. The wood was most pliable along those sides.
“Perfect.” The wood and stone buzzed against her fingers.
Kane nodded, positioned his fingers in the exact order as hers. His arms pressed against her sides, thoroughly trapping her to him. She removed her hands and nodded. His hold was perfect.
“This is going to be hot,” he warned.
“That’s fine. I’m not one to shy away from fire.” She molded her body against his. Relishing the warmth it brought. She needed to make sure his hands remained perfectly aligned, that the stone responded safely, and her current position would be the best. That was the reason she refused to move away. The only reason.
“Go,” she breathed.
Red burned beneath his palms. Like new coals beneath a fire. The faint smell of burning wood wafted up her nose.
“A little less,” she whispered and placed a hand on his forearm. Ready to push them away if things started to go poorly.
Kane complied, the heat a few degrees cooler. The fire beneath his skin fought against the control. She could feel the heat of his body rise in response. There was a comfort in it, the warmth. It lulled the ice-cold power in her veins that bloomed softly in response to his pull of arcanum. It was so subtle she barely felt the prickle of her own Talent.
He tried to match her instincts. One breath in, one breath out. There was a slight fidget in his right hand, one that could interrupt the arcanum flow. Without a second thought, Erinna placed her own hands on his, let the heat threaten to burn her skin so she could adjust his hold.
“Erinna!” His voice was thick with ill-concealed worry. Kane tensed on impulse, ready to withdraw, but Erinna pressed his hands into the wood and stone harder.
“I’m fine. Keep going, Kane.” It wasn’t a lie. Sure, his hands had grown painfully hot, but her skin remained undamaged. Her Talent responded in kind to his Grace. It bloomed to life, eager to coax and lick at the flames within him, cooling whatever fire threatened to damage her hands.
“Just a few more seconds,” she murmured, feeling him soften against her.
It had only been a few minutes, but such fine manipulation of arcanum required a significant amount of energy. Even Erinna knew that. Wood weaved against the gemstone.
It would work. Erinna buzzed with excitement. She could almost taste the success.
The mast groaned with strain and burned beneath Kane’s touch. Just a few more seconds.
