Training with Emiliano started at the crack of dawn, and the biting wind tore through the thin clothes I had on with ease. I clenched the sleeves of my long-sleeved shirt and grit my teeth against the cold that numbed my toes. I wondered if, being Fae, I was somehow immune to frostbite, but the sharp, wet bite of the snow on my skin told me otherwise.
Emiliano had suggested we train out here. In fact, it had been his idea to steal my coat and winter gear, claiming I needed a push to tap into my abilities. Years of suppressing what I was had left me as clueless as a Fae child about magic, but I was now facing a world where six High Lords and their armies might all have a claim on me.
Unfazed by whatever happened between Leonardo and me the previous night, Emiliano hadn’t blinked when Leonardo chose to stay inside during my training. I hadn’t slept, replaying every word Leonardo and I exchanged on Emiliano’s rooftop. Against my stubborn resolve, I was certain I had made a terrible mistake. I had shut Leonardo out, denied the bond we both felt. A cruel part of me had perhaps wanted to see him hurt, but the pain in his eyes only mirrored the wound in my own heart, intensifying my self-loathing.
My mood only worsened as Emiliano insisted we’d be outside “for a few minutes.” My irritation skyrocketed when he nudged me out onto the porch and slammed the door behind me. Locked outside in just a thin shirt and sweatpants, I faced a shimmering wall of flame surrounding the house, keeping me from getting closer than the porch.
“Break through the shield, and you can come back inside,” Emiliano said, his eyes glinting with mischief.
So there I stood, shivering as I mentally prodded at the dome of magic fire, my only sense of time marked by my wet socks and the deepening cold. How far I’d come from the timid girl who once tiptoed around Leonardo’s pack.
At first, I circled the porch, trying to catch a glimpse of Emiliano through the windows. What kind of training was this? Was this how they trained little Fae children-throwing them out in the cold and locking the door? I doubted it. While werewolves were hardier in the cold, and the Fae immune to aging and disease, I was still cold to my bones.
Even Blue kept her distance, staying silent as I simmered in frustration. Her power didn’t feel accessible to me at all-I wasn’t sure if she could help me break through the shield even if she tried.
Eventually, it dawned on me that no one was coming to my rescue. Bracing myself, I turned back to the dome. Complaining wouldn’t get me anywhere. I needed to push through it myself.
The dome surrounding the house gleamed with flames, a translucent barrier that stretched high above the roof. As I stared at it, I could see the delicate web of magic that created it-a vast network of tiny threads interwoven to make up the barrier. When I’d broken Emiliano’s spell the day before, it had been pure luck. Now, faced with this intricate net of fire, I couldn’t understand how I had managed it before.
After an hour of failed attempts, my body was frozen stiff. Desperate for even a sliver of warmth, I trudged to the forest’s edge and tried to find some cover behind the trees, stripping off my wet clothes and hanging them on a low branch. I closed my eyes, calling Blue forward and preparing for the shift.
But as soon as I reached for her, a scorching wave of heat and power surged through me. It wasn’t gentle warmth-it was a roar of flame. I could feel thin threads of Fire Magic within me, a barrier between Blue and me. I could sense her presence but couldn’t pull her forward.
Frustration bubbled within, driven by a night of sleepless self-torment over Leonardo. Tugging my cold clothes back on, I stormed out of the woods, my anger coiling tight within me, heating me from the inside. I stood before the flaming dome, trembling not from the cold but from the overwhelming fury within. This raw emotion was enough to channel Fire Magic, I realized, but it would be drawn from anger alone, disconnected from its truest source.
Then, somewhere behind my fury, another warmth stirred-powerful but steady, a heat that shimmered with light rather than consuming flame. As I pushed aside my anger, claiming this gentler heat, it bloomed within me like a sunrise. The shivers stopped, and I could swear the snowflakes on my clothes had melted away.
This warmth was unlike anything I had felt. It radiated strength but held a layered beauty, an endless flame that pulsed with life. All around, I could see threads of fire weaving through every sunlit patch and bloom of warmth. I had been wrong, I realized. Magic might not exist here as it did in the Fae Realm, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t here at all. The elements held their own kind of magic, echoing through every glimmer of sunlight, every flicker of flame.