Chapter 7 #2
“Better,” Brandon said as she successfully maintained a connection through a story about the family of bunnies that had gotten into the greenhouse and gnawed her lettuce, carrots, and parsley in a single night. “Much better. I think that's enough for today.”
Muriel opened her eyes, surprised to find herself exhausted. The fatigue was mental, not physical, but draining nonetheless, even with Brandon’s magical bumper guards. “That was harder than I expected.”
“Emotional control is the most difficult aspect of any magic. But you're doing well.” He moved to the small kitchen area and returned with water. “Here. You need to stay hydrated.”
She accepted the glass, her fingers brushing his. The contact sent a spark through the bond, and she saw his eyes darken fractionally before he stepped back.
Despite his magic flowing with hers, he was careful to maintain physical distance between them. She’d appreciated it at first, but lately, she found herself wishing for his touch. Could that be attributed to the resonance? Or was her inconvenient attraction to Brandon deepening?
She didn’t know. But she was no longer convinced that all mages were inherently devious and manipulative.
Aloud, she asked, “Same time tomorrow?”
“If you're up for it.”
“Absolutely.” These training sessions, as challenging as they were, made her feel like she was taking control of her own power.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “For everything.”
Something flickered across his face but it vanished too quickly to identify. “You're welcome.”
By the fifth day, they'd moved beyond simple happiness and annoyance.
“Today we're going to work with fear,” Brandon said, and Muriel's stomach clenched.
“Do we have to?”
“Yes.” His voice was gentle but implacable. “If you find yourself in a bad situation, you can’t allow your fear free reign. You need to be able to access your magic, not have it explode outward in panic and level everything around you.”
He was right. She knew he was right. That didn't make the idea any less terrifying.
“Aren’t you worried about what I might do to your shop?”
“The shop can take care of itself, and I won't let anything bad happen to you,” he added quietly. “I promise.”
The sincerity in his voice, along with the anchoring surety of his magic, steadied her. “Okay. What do I need to do?”
“Same as before. Connect with the tree. Then I'm going to... well, I'm going to try to scare you. Nothing physical,” he added quickly. “Just words, but I’m going to use magic to make it seem realistic. You need to find your center and stay connected, okay?”
Muriel nodded, took a deep breath, and focused on the lemon tree. Brandon’s magical presence within her slowly retreated into the background, leaving her to take center stage.
“Good,” Brandon murmured. “Close your eyes. Now…” His voice was deeper, more menacing, echoing as if it were many voices instead of one.
She felt the weight of his power surround her, pressing into her from all sides at once.
Not for the first time, she wondered what his affinity was.
According to the books she’d been reading, most practitioners had at least one.
“Imagine you’re on your way to see Jessie,” he continued. “The Collectors have picked up your trail. Your magic is warning you of danger. You can sense them, like a blast of cold on a warm summer evening.”
She felt the cold breeze, chilling her skin, sending shivers down her spine. This isn’t real. This is only a simulation. I’ve got this.
“Their leader, Corvus, has locked onto your magic. He's tracking you right now, closing in, and you're alone.”
Terror tried to claw up her throat. She swallowed it down. I’m stronger than this. Stronger than him. I’ve got this.
“You run, but they're faster. You can hear them behind you, feel their magic reaching out, leeching yours—”
I don’t have this. “Stop!” She broke the connection, gasping for breath. Her hands were shaking.
Brandon was there immediately, his hands on her shoulders, grounding her even as his magic rose up within her, cocooning her in comfort.
“Breathe, Muriel. It’s okay. You're safe.”
She focused on his touch, his presence, and the full flow of his magic encompassing hers again. Gradually, her breathing slowed.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I failed.”
“Don't apologize. That was intense, and you lasted longer than most would on a first attempt.” His thumbs rubbed small circles on her skin, gentle and soothing. “We'll work up to it. Build your tolerance gradually.”
She nodded against his chest—when had she moved closer?—and breathed in his unique scent. It immediately calmed her.
When she looked up, his eyes had gone dark. Deep blue, almost navy, with those glowing green sparks more prominent than usual. He was staring at her mouth.
The bond tugged, insistent. Wanting more.
Then he stepped back, breaking contact. “That's enough for today.”
She wanted to reach out and tug him right back. “Brandon—”
“I’ll be in the back. I have some things to take care of. You should go upstairs and rest. You did well today.” He was already retreating toward the stairs, throwing off vibes that warned her not to follow.
Muriel stood alone among the plants, confused and frustrated and not entirely sure what had just happened.
When she turned around, the lemon tree was covered in an inch of solid ice.