Mental Power
Irene
Hopefully, my newfound energy would speed up my progress.
The idea of killing to survive still worried me, but I didn’t want Alex or someone else to help me stab a target. It was my choice, a difficult one, but mine. And above all, I wanted to find Sean and kill him. I didn’t care if he was a wizard. I would grow stronger than Sean’s powers.
The sunlight glinted off the marble benches in the garden, and I glanced at Alex’s window and the drawn curtains. If he could avoid bright days, he would.
Darius placed an empty bottle of wine on a barrel. “Let’s try again.”
“You need to visualise your power in your mind.” Myrtha focused on the target. “Stay still. Imagine the bottle shattering. Your power will do the rest.”
Darius arched his brow. “Do the rest? I disagree. In fact, I disagree with your whole approach.”
Myrtha balled her fists. “What does a lizard know about a wili’s power?”
He angled towards me. “See why I prefer mage? If you think this is how mental power works, please go on.”
Myrtha tilted her chin up and faced the target. White light glowed around her, and the air pulsated with her power. The bottle twitched and jumped. She drew her eyebrows closer. The bottle shook harder until it shattered.
She wheezed. “See? It works.”
“Your turn, Irene.” Darius waved a hand, and the bottle recomposed itself on the barrel.
“Show off.” Myrtha pouted.
“Waste not. Irene, follow Myrtha’s approach.”
I visualised the bottle being shattered, but nothing happened. I concentrated harder. Still nothing. My light didn’t even glimmer.
Myrtha patted my shoulder. “You need practice.”
“Pish.” Darius stepped in front of me. “I want you to do this. Don’t visualise anything. Pretend the bottle is in your hand and make the gesture of smashing it.”
“Ridiculous,” Myrtha muttered.
I did as Darius said, pretending to hold the bottle and—the glass shattered without me doing anything else. “My goodness.”
Darius punched the air. “See? It works.”
Myrtha glowered so hard she might have a permanent frown. “You did it. You used your magic to break the bottle.”
“I would never do that.” He was outraged.
My enthusiasm died. “Did you do it?”
“I give you my word that I didn’t.” He flourished his hand. The bottle returned whole. “Once more. I can leave if you like.”
His aura kept changing so quickly I didn’t have time to check if he was lying.
“Yes.” Myrtha waved him off. “Trickster.”
He flashed a smirk worthy of a pirate. “I know you like me. Deep down, you’re desperate to kiss me.”
“Kissing you is at the bottom of the list of things I’m desperate to do.”
“Still on the list.” He winked cheekily before leaving, humming a tune.
Myrtha pressed her lips together. “That wizard.”
“He’s a good man.”
“He’s a braggart.”
“He cares about you.”
She flushed and waved a hand. “Go on.”
I exhaled and repeated the process. This time, I didn’t need to pretend to hold the bottle; it cracked with a startling noise.
I clapped and laughed, but Myrtha didn’t smile.
“Well done.” She sounded cold. “You’ll be skilled sooner than I expected.”
“Darius wants to help.”
She finally brightened. “You’re a darling, and I’m happy for you, but you’ll learn men never do anything without an ulterior motive.”
“Maybe Darius is different.”
“Maybe Darius is only lying.” She stared in the direction Darius had gone. “Let’s continue.”
I practised for an hour, shattering dozens of bottles until my legs didn’t hold me up.
“You must be tired.” Myrtha regarded the pile of broken glass. “Enough for today. You need rest.”
I nodded, panting.
“We’ll continue tomorrow.” She marched towards the house, searching around; my guess was for Darius.
I sat on a bench and enjoyed the warm sunlight and the buzzing of the bees around the flowers.
Eating a sandwich, Darius strolled towards me. He looked at the pile of broken glass and whistled. “I’m glad you learnt the technique.” With a casual gesture of his hand, the bottles were as good as new.
“Myrtha wasn’t happy that your method worked and hers didn’t.”
“We’re lucky that’s Myrtha’s problem.”
I wiped the sweat from my brow. “Are you really going to help Knight’s pack?”
“What kind of scoundrel do you think I am?” He sat next to me.
“I don’t think you are one.” I stretched out my legs. “I’m worried. What if Knight attacks us? What if Esmeralda does whatever she threatened to do? Graves is waiting for the slightest provocation to start a war. And what about the mysterious wizard?”
“My potion works, and Knight’s pack will be safe. As for the wizard, I’m sure he isn’t that hard to defeat.” He fished out a book from his pocket.
“How did a book fit into your pocket?” Silly question.
“I created a spell to store big things inside small ones. I was tired of carrying my satchel around. It wasn’t fashionable.”
He flipped through the pages, and I tried to understand the writing. Utter gibberish. The more I focused on the words, the more my head hurt.
“I think this wizard isn’t a wizard, but a sorcerer.” He stared at me as if expecting a big reaction.
“And?”
He exhaled. “I’m a wizard. I master many spells and can brew many potions. A sorcerer masters one or two spells. He’s no match for me.”
“How can you be sure he doesn’t master many?”
“Why would he need to trick you and take your money or be the boss of a gang of human thugs? Because he can only turn people into animals and produce green blasts.”
“Why did Knight lie about him?”
He closed the book and slid it into his pocket. “Fear? Or he wants to reveal what he knows at the right moment when it’s convenient for him. Alex has an advantage over him because we’re going to help him. Knight might have decided to withhold information to have some leverage over Alex.”
I touched his arm. “You truly are brilliant.”
For the first time, he didn’t smirk, agree with me, or say something silly. “I want to be helpful.”
His seriousness surprised me.
“You are. Why would you think otherwise?”
He shrugged, brushing breadcrumbs from his jacket.
The shadows lengthened as dusk advanced, and Alex’s window was lit.
Darius nudged me with his elbow. “Go to him. You’re turning him into a proper human.”
“Thank you for your help.”
“One last thing.” He propped his elbows on the backrest. “The first bottle you smashed, it was me.”
“Darius!”
His smirk returned. “You needed confidence. It worked.”
“You’re impossible.” I laughed.
“Thank you.” Darius winked.
Alex had kept his promise, and my armoire was now full of new gowns, hats, shoes, and fashion accessories. My dear papa would never have been able to buy such magnificent clothes for me. Every time I regarded the layers of velvet, satin, and lace, I remained stunned.
Before going to Alex’s room, I washed and changed into a lovely bottle-green gown, something I would wear for a fancy dinner party, but I wanted to look nice for him. I styled my hair into a simple chignon. Anything more complicated was a daunting task for me, and I didn’t want to bother a maid.
When I entered his room, his gaze followed me with hunger, but I didn’t think it was thirst.
“You look lovely.” His voice had a seductive quality that made my toes curl.
“I wanted to wear something nice.” I smoothed the bodice, feeling the corset underneath.
“Perfect choice.”
When I sat on the sofa, my muscles ached after the training, and I still had a lot to learn, but for the first time since the tragedy, I wanted to live and be happy, and I wanted to rid the world of men like Sean.
He sat next to me, less stiff than usual, but gazing at me with the same intensity as always.
“Darius told me your training went exceptionally well today.” He wasn’t wearing his gloves. That was progress.
“Myrtha was upset because her method didn’t work and Darius’s did.”
“Bickering with each other is their favourite pastime. I wouldn’t pay them too much attention.” He kept his hands folded in his lap.
I placed my hand palm up next to him. “You should try this time. If you’re in control, it might be easier.”
A drop of sweat glistened on his temple as he inched his hand closer to mine. He shivered but didn’t stop. The distance between my palm and his finger stretched and became endless. I didn’t say anything and waited.
His chest rose, and I realised it didn’t move as frequently as, well, living people. His fingertips hovered over my palm, so close yet so far.
When he finally touched me, I had to control myself not to gasp. The touch was as light as that of a snowflake, but my skin tingled and my pulse spiked. He frowned and focused on my hand, quivering. His nostrils flared.
The touch required all his effort and energy. He trailed a finger over my thumb before withdrawing his hand as quickly as a striking cobra.
He panted, clenching his fists.
I eased the tension in my shoulders. “You’re making good progress.”
He let out a nervous chuckle. “I don’t think so.”
“Do you want to try again?”
“Yes.” He leant back and stared at the ceiling. His Adam’s apple bobbed on a swallow. “Your heartbeat quickened.”
“Your touch was light but enjoyable.” I wasn’t surprised he heard my heartbeat, but I hadn’t thought about that.
He turned towards me. “Enjoyable?”
I touched my palm. “I can still feel it.”
“May I?”
I offered him my hand without hesitation. He exhaled as the tremor started, and my chest clenched for his pain. He caressed my palm with a quick gesture. When he stopped shivering, he brushed my wrist where a vein kicked. As he focused on my pulse, his lines smoothed down. The shivers diminished.
I lifted the hem of my sleeve, uncovering more skin for him to explore. The tremors started, and I feared I’d done too much.
He reached out with his slow, controlled movements. Anticipation built inside me as his fingertips were a grain of sand away from my skin. We both released shaky breaths when he touched me. There was more pressure in the brush.
He traced the path of a vein that travelled from my wrist to my elbow. My skin pebbled even though the stroke was light.
“Your skin…” He paused, staring at me in awe. “It’s so soft and smooth.”
He caressed my arm, using all his fingertips. The vein in my wrist kicked faster, attracting his immediate attention.
“The scent of your blood and skin drives me mad.”
I moaned when he stroked the hollow of my elbow.
He drew in a breath, his lips parting. He stilled, and we shared that moment of deep intimacy, even though we were barely touching.
He dipped his head and brushed his lips over my wrist. I sighed because somehow the kiss was charged with intense pleasure.
He kissed my wrist, darting the tip of his tongue out.
“You can bite me,” I whispered.
He raised his head. “No. I don’t want to turn our encounters into a reason for me to feed.” He caressed my palm. “You deserve better than that.”
My body warmed with his words.
I relaxed as he scattered light kisses on my arm.
“You give me more courage than you can imagine.” He trailed his fingertips over my palm. “For me, touching you is nothing short of a miracle.”
We remained like that, in silence with him caressing my hand and me watching his face. He was serene and content. The bond was relaxed and soft. The tension usually etching his features was gone, and the orange glow from the fire suited him.
“Is the touch less painful?” I gently stroked a finger against his.
“It is. It’s enjoyable.” He let out a chuckle. “Only because it’s you. I wouldn’t feel the same with someone else.”
I didn’t want to push him, and he’d made enough progress for one night. “I’d better go.”
He kissed the tips of his fingers and showed them to me. “Good night.”
I raised my fingertips and brushed his. “Good night.”