Chapter 17
Seventeen
BECKS
The next several days pass faster than I expect. Haven and I fall into an easy rhythm. I wake up early and work out and then patrol the surrounding area before making breakfast.
I quickly learn the smell of frying bacon is the most surefire way to get Haven out of bed.
She usually comes downstairs looking half-asleep, her hair going every which way.
One morning she appeared with her shirt on backward and didn’t do more than grunt a few words until she was halfway done with her food.
Locklyn was never a morning person either, but Haven takes it to a new level that I find bafflingly cute.
After breakfast, we work on her magic. She hasn’t been able to bring it out since the first day, but I suspect it’s because she’s scared and holding back. I try not to push her. I saw for myself how explosive her magic is, but if she can harness it, she’ll be a force like no one has ever seen.
I wish her parents had found a way to get her trained sooner. I try not to hold it against them, knowing they only did what they thought was best to protect their daughter.
Lunch usually consists of watching Haven eat the most processed foods on the planet. How someone can put that amount of dehydrated cheese product into their body day after day is beyond me.
To pass the time, we play board games. We’re both insanely competitive, each of us dominating our own favorites. Sometimes we take short walks in the woods when the weather’s decent, or sit by the fire talking about everything and nothing.
It’s strange how fast the silence between us stopped feeling awkward.
Time with Haven just feels easy. No effort, no tension.
At first, I couldn’t help comparing her to Locklyn, but the more time we spend together, the less I see Locklyn at all. The differences are obvious now—the way she moves, talks, laughs. The more I get to know Haven, the more it’s unfair to keep measuring them against each other.
Haven has this goofy side Locklyn doesn’t, but not the same self-control. I’ve managed to drag her into physical training a few times. She knows the basics, but the workout doesn’t light her up like it does Locklyn.
She’s loyal, though. That trait’s the same.
But Haven’s softer.
Not fragile, just open in a way her sister isn’t. She spent her life bouncing around, always having to start over and never staying long enough to make deep friendships. You’d think that kind of instability would make someone guarded, but it hasn’t.
Where Locklyn built walls to survive, Haven opens doors.
Everything about Haven catches my attention. The harder I try to remain distant, the more I want to take in every detail, until I know her completely.
Haven’s in one of her quiet moods this morning as she eats her eggs, but I don’t mind. She’s not angry, just thinking, her gaze unseeing as she stares straight ahead. I remain quiet as I eat beside her, waiting until she’s ready to talk, which she is a few minutes later.
“Maybe we should stop trying to pull out my magic.”
I set down my fork, giving her my full attention. “Why do you say that?”
“We’ve been at it for days and not made any progress.”
I see a hint of fear in her gaze. “Is that the only reason?” I ask, already knowing it’s not.
She bites down on her bottom lip, and it takes effort not to stare. I wish she’d stop doing that. Every time she does, I want to reach out and tug her lip free. Then I want to run my tongue—
Clearing my throat, I cut off that train of thought right away. It leads nowhere good.
“You okay?” Haven asks, peering at me curiously.
“I’m good. About your magic, I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to, but it feels like there might be more to it than just the lack of progress. We haven’t found what’s worked yet, but that doesn’t mean we won’t.”
“It just seems like an awful waste of your time.”
“Haven, come on. We’ve got nothing but time right now,” I say, punching a hole through that excuse.
She’s quiet for a moment, and I don’t press it again. I was serious when I said I wasn’t going to push her to do anything she doesn’t want to, but I know there’s more she’s not telling me. She’s either going to open up about it or not.
Finally, she releases a heavy sigh. “Have you ever considered that maybe it’s just not safe.”
“Do you mean because of what happened with the tree?” I lean forward, encroaching into her space. I can’t seem to help myself. “I deal with fire,” I assure her. “You don’t have to worry about hurting me.”
“Well, there’s that too,” she says with a shaky laugh.
“But I guess I mean on a bigger scale. Becks, whatever magic I have inside me is so powerful that a demon is hunting me to use it to give itself a physical form. I’ve been thinking about it a lot over the last couple of days.
Maybe magic like that should stay dormant.
Maybe it’s better if I learn how to lock it away more tightly rather than bring it to the surface.
If it’s buried inside me, maybe the demon won’t be able to use it at all. ”
“That’s a lot of ‘maybes.’”
She bites down on her lip again, and I force my gaze to stay connected with her eyes. It’s a struggle though.
“We just don’t know,” she says. “And if I’m being honest, I’m scared. Scared that there’s a demon hunting me. Scared that I might be the reason he gains even more power. And maybe most of all, scared of this magic inside me.”
She stares at me with vulnerability that skewers my heart.
I can’t stop myself from reaching out and taking her hand. She turns hers so that we’re palm to palm, and somehow that makes it feel like we’re even more connected.
“You’re right to be scared,” I say, knowing that she wants to hear platitudes from me about how she’s safe, about how nothing bad is going to happen to her.
But I care about her too much to not be completely honest about this.
She needs to go into this with her eyes open, not hiding and hoping it will all go away.
What we are doing now in this cabin is buying time. The demon is still out there and is going to come for her one way or another.
“The reality is, we don’t know much,” I admit.
“You could be right, and working to bring out your magic might make a terrible situation worse. But it might not. It might give you a fighting chance when it matters. Either way, it has to be your decision. If you decide you want to learn how to fight with your magic, I’ll do my best to teach you how.
But if you decide it’s not worth the risk, I’ll still be here to protect you in whatever way I can. ”
Her eyes glisten as she struggles with her emotions.
“I don’t want you to get hurt because of me,” she finally gets out.
“I’ve been hurt for a lot worse reasons. If something happens to me because of you, I want you to know that I believe it’s worth it.”
I catch Haven staring at the charred remains of the evergreen she scorched earlier in the week, and a flicker of regret hits me for bringing her back here.
Still, it’s the safest place within walking distance to the cabin.
I can handle another small flare-up if it happens, but a full forest fire would be beyond my control.
I just wish the reminder of her loss of control wasn’t so stark.
She’s brave to try again, to face her magic instead of hiding from it.
She doesn’t need her last failure staring back at her in blackened branches.
“All right,” I say, forcing Haven’s attention. “Today is the day, I can feel it.”
She gives me a wan smile that says she’s not as sure as I am. But that’s okay. I’ll be positive for both of us.
She has it in her to harness her magic. I know she does.
“Let’s try something a little different today,” I suggest. “You’ve been trying to call the magic from inside without a spark. Maybe I can give you one.”
Haven lifts a skeptical brow, but she doesn’t pull away when I step closer.
“Close your eyes,” I murmur. “Breathe with me. Slowly. In and out.”
Her shoulders rise and fall unevenly at first, but after a few breaths her rhythm syncs with mine.
Steady, calm, deliberate.
I can almost feel her pulse through the air between us.
“Good,” I whisper. “Now, keep that focus.”
I turn one palm upward and call a flame to life. It’s small, no bigger than a candle’s worth of fire, its glow flickering across her face.
Her eyes open, wide and bright.
“I want you to take it,” I say quietly. “Not only with your hands, but with your magic. Feel it. Match its rhythm to yours. Let it feed off what’s already inside you until it’s your power keeping it lit instead of mine.”
She hesitates, brow furrowing. “I don’t—”
“You can,” I cut in gently. “It’s already in you, Haven. Just stop fighting it.”
Fear flashes in her eyes, but then she shoves it away, determination filling its place.
With her gaze fixed on the flame, the air between us tightens.
Slowly, the fire wavers, then stretches, its glow shifting, pulling toward her. I feel the moment her magic reaches out, tentative at first, then steadily.
The flame starts to take on a magenta hue.
“Good,” I breathe. “Now take it.”
The fire lifts from my palm, crossing the space between us. For a heartbeat, it hovers between our hands, sustained by both of us. Then the pull severs and the fire settles neatly into her cupped palms.
It flares once, small sparks shooting wild and uncertain, but she holds her breath, centering herself. The flame burns bright pink and purple, but contained. For the first time, her magic doesn’t explode from her, it’s listening and obeying.
Something tight in my chest unravels when she glances up at me, the light reflecting in her amber eyes. A light laugh of happiness bursts from her chest.
After a few more moments, she exhales and closes her fingers into a fist. The flame disappears, leaving only warmth between us.
With her eyes still trained on the spot where the flame burned, she breathes slowly and steadily, as if afraid to break the moment.
When she finally looks up, pure joy shines in her expression, and something in me loosens and then slides into place.
It’s a simple thing, seeing her happy, but it feels like the world just righted itself.
“I did it,” she says softly, in awe.
A grin stretches over my face. “You did.”
“No, Becks. I really did it. I tapped into my magic and didn’t blow anything up. I was able to control it.”
“I know,” I chuckle.
She lets out a happy squeal and then launches herself at me. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs, and before I can react, we’re both tumbling back. The snow cushions our fall, cold and soft, as laughter spills from her lips.
Haven clings to me, laughing so hard she can barely breathe, and I can’t help but join in. The sound is contagious, wild and unrestrained, and soon we’re both shaking with it, snowflakes dusting our hair. By the time our laughter fades, happy tears are streaking down her cheeks.
“Thank you,” she says softly, her smile still bright. “Without your help, I never would’ve made it this far.”
“Nah,” I murmur, grinning up at her. “You’ve always had it in you, Haven. You just needed a little push.”
She shakes her head, her hair slipping forward to brush her cheek.
I reach up to tuck it behind her ear, and my fingers linger longer than they should, tracing the curve of her ear before I pull away.
She shivers, and suddenly the air between us feels different. Charged.
A faint flush colors her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, realizing she’s still sprawled across me, our bodies pressed close. “I must be crushing you.”
I shake my head. “Not even close.”
Her gaze flicks to my mouth, and my breath catches. She wets her bottom lip, slowly and absently, and the small motion sends a pulse of heat through me.
Her lips part slightly, and the look in her eyes steals every coherent thought from my head.
I could lean in, just a little, and I know she’d let me. The thought hits like fire in my veins.
A gust of wind sweeps across the clearing, scattering a few loose flakes across her hair.
She blinks, and the spell between us wavers. She shifts her weight as if to get up, but the small motion only presses her closer, and my pulse kicks harder.
I force a laugh that comes out rougher than I intend.
“Maybe we should head back before you freeze solid,” I manage.
She nods quickly, but her cheeks are still pink, and when she stands, she avoids eye contact.
And I let her, because if I look at her right now, I’ll forget every reason I’m trying to hold back.