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My magic.

Not Damian's.

Not borrowed power.

Not something he gave me.

Mine.

It has always been mine. The realization comes with such certainty that tears fill my eyes.

Damian pulls back immediately.

“Sweet?”

“I'm okay.”

“You're crying.”

“I know.”

His thumb catches one of the tears.

“Belinda?”

I laugh shakily.

“My magic.”

His gaze drops to my hands. Red-edged gold winds around my fingers, stronger and brighter than I've ever seen it.

“It's alive.”

His eyes return to mine.

“It always was.”

Three words. They nearly undo me.

I spent twenty years believing there was something missing inside me. Twenty years being told my sister received the gift and I somehow didn't.

But what if everyone was wrong? What if my magic wasn't absent? What if it was waiting?

Or trapped?

The thought comes from nowhere.

I go still. Damian notices immediately.

“What?”

“I don't know.”

“What did you feel?”

I sit up slowly.

“My aunt left magical stores.”