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Except I can’t locate it. My emotions are too strong, and pushing them away only increases their intensity.

I hate this. Hate him.

More than that, I loathe the way my body responds when he draws near. But I’m not giving up. I need to do anything I can to seize back even a tiny shred of control.

Coarse hands grasp my face, startling me.

My eyes fly open.

Agnar hovers over me again. “What the fuck was that?”

“I wasn’t—” My tongue swells, and every nerve in my body screams at me to hold still. Never in my life have I managed to anger someone this much, especially not someone who dared to touch me.

“You were. I felt you in my head.” His other hand joins the first, framing my face so firmly that my eyes scrunch and my lips pinch together. Any harder, and he’ll begin to crush my cheeks. I believe he could reduce me to a bloody pulp with very little effort. “You used two different magics in thirty seconds, neither one elemental. I felt you trying to control my body like some kind of evil spirit. What are you?”

I struggle to yank my chin away, but his grip is too tight. “I told you I don’t have elemental magic.” I’m dripping with the shame I’ve carried since I was old enough to understand my shortcomings.

He stares. “Everyone has elemental magic. Rivlan returned it to the world.”

“Not to me.” My throat burns. I can’t believe I’m about to reveal a secret I’ve spent years trying to conceal. “You can’t return what never existed in the first place.”

His eyes search mine for the lie.

Except he won’t find it. This is the ugly truth that’s haunted me my entire life.

“I’m a Warden.” Despite the humiliation burning through me, I meet his gaze. “Nothing was given to me. I had to work and train to learn these skills. Animal bonding. Light Walking. Healing. Lulling.” I pause to let that sink in. “But nothing elemental. No fire, water, earth, or air. Nothing.”

Agnar’s grapple loosens slightly, the anger in his expression shifting to confused shock.

His reaction is the same as everyone else who’s heard I have no real magic. Contempt, horror, or confusion, sometimes followed by revulsion and fear, as if I might possess some contagion. The same old dance that leaves me feeling the size of an ant but not nearly as useful to the world. “Satisfied?”

He releases me and drifts back before raking a hand through his hair.

For a long moment, he just stands in front of me. Then he pivots and stalks toward the trees at the edge of camp. “Stay out of my head.” He doesn’t glance back. “Next time I won’t be nice about it.”

That was nice?

My throat tingles from his hands, and my body hums with leftover adrenaline and arousal. The adults in the group huddle together, blatantly looking at anything but me. While they might have seen me get chewed out like a child, they cluster far enough away that they couldn’t hear anything. That’s my only solace. The kids play in the dirt, waiting for a happy, grinning Agnar to rejoin them.

The Lulling failed spectacularly because I couldn’t empty myself. I can’t become nothing when I’m full of everything. Anger, want, and desperation tangle together until I can’t tell where one ends and another begins.

I glower at Agnar’s retreating back.

I have no leverage or power to change my situation. My hand is halfway to my mouth before I stop it and chew my lip in frustration instead of my nails. Everything I attempt only worsens my current predicament. While I’m at least traveling in the same general direction I need to, I have to get free of this infuriating man so I can return to my mentor and explain what’s happened.

Every life in Meridia may very well depend on my ability to do so.

On the other side of camp, Leif and Mira join the children and break out into laughter at some story Agnar’s sharing. Even from here, I notice the way he draws people in.

I hate that he’s good at this when I’m so bad at it, that he used the refugees I invited to accompany us to keep a better eye on me. He’s out here forging friendships while I’m on the outside peering in.

Most of all, I detest that a small, traitorous part of me longs for him to look at me the way he does them, like he wants to keep me around.

I squash the thought.

Thinking like that will only make things worse.

And they’re already bad enough.