Chapter 46 You’re Kidding Right?
You’re Kidding Right?
Raven
“Are you ready to get started? We’re heading outside today.” Cam strolls into his office, setting down a stack of papers.
I take a deep breath. “Yeah. Let's do it.”
Sunlight filters through the canopy in gold streaks and the breeze smells like wildflowers and pine. It would be grounding if my nerves weren't already sparking like I stuck a finger in a socket.
We step into the open space at the edge of the trees, and Cam stops, turning to face me. “I want you to try to create a storm.”
I blink at him like he's lost his mind. “What?”
“You heard me.”
A breathless laugh escapes before I can stop it. “Cam, I can't.” I shake my head, I haven’t been able to do much of anything since the last incident in his office, when I broke all the windows.
“You’ve got to be kidding. I can’t just… summon a storm.”
He tilts his head, completely unfazed. “Of course you can,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’ve done it before, whether you meant to or not. Now, I want you to focus. To try.”
My jaw tightens as I exhale through my nose, trying to stay calm. “That was different. I wasn’t trying before. It just happened.”
“And now I’m asking you to stop waiting for it to happen and own it.” His voice doesn’t waver, and the look in his eyes tells me he isn’t going to back down without a fight. “You control your magic, Raven. Not the other way around. But you need to believe that.”
I huff, rubbing my hands together, feeling the familiar prickle of energy just under my skin. “Fine.”
I close my eyes and do what I've been doing for weeks. Focus inward. I bring my attention to my hands, where the buzz hums like an unspoken promise, waiting. I coax it forward, imagining it spreading through my body like ripples across water.
The tingling crawls up my arms, and spreads down to the tips of my toes.
But the harder I try to grab onto it, the more slippery it becomes. Frustration coils in my chest, winding itself around my ribs, as it tightens with every passing second.
The thread of energy I was holding onto slips away, dissolving into nothing. I open my eyes and I let out a sharp, irritated huff.
“See, I can’t.” My voice is tight with frustration, and I feel like I'm about to cry. “It’s not working.”
Cam closes the distance between us, making it impossible to ignore him. “Take a breath,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck like he's got all the patience in the world. “You’re overthinking it. Stop forcing it, Rae. Magic doesn’t work like that. Let it come to you. You have to trust yourself.”
His tone is exactly how I feel. He sounds frustrated with me, and honestly? I’m frustrated with myself. He makes it sound so easy.
“Easy for you to say.” I shake out my hands, rolling my shoulders to release some of the tension curling through me.
Frustration crawls under my skin, itching to get out. I force my eyes shut, like that's suddenly going to fix anything. Cam, the clearing, the doubt—I try to block it all.
I think about the storm—the thunder, the sharp crack of lightning tearing the air, the weight of the clouds heavy with power. I picture that energy flooding my veins, building in my chest, begging to be set loose. I breathe in slow and sink into it, letting it swallow me whole.
It feels like I'm standing on the edge of a cliff, the energy practically shoving me forward. I can feel the air shift as the wind starts teasing at my hair. My chest tightens, and my focus narrows as the pressure builds.
And then it slams into me—a rush that feels nothing like the flickers I've felt before.
This is raw.
The sky darkens instantly, and a distant rumble rolls through the air. The wind stirs around us, rustling the leaves on the branches like a warning I don't want to hear.
My eyes fly open, and I see the clouds gather with the promise of rain. My heart pounds, caught between exhilaration and fear.
“Good.” Cam's voice cuts through the rising storm. “Keep going.”
I try to hold onto it and stay in control, but I hear a faint whisper. Then, all the sudden, it’s louder, like someone's standing right behind me.
“Raven!”
A violent gust tears through the clearing and I hear it again. My pulse spikes and my body tenses. “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
I swallow hard, feeling the static thick in the air. My fingers are shaking as power rattles under my skin. “Nothing.”
I feel a brush against my ear as the voice curls through the storm like a thread pulled loose from the fabric of the world.
Then I hear a slow chuckle. Panic seizes me, and I rip myself free from the connection. The wind dies instantly, the sky clears, and my chest heaves as the power drains from me so fast I feel hollow.
“Why?” I turn on Cam and the words come out before I can stop them. “Why are you training me? Why not a witch?”
A muscle in his jaw ticks, but I don't miss the shift in his posture, the way his shoulders tighten.
“That’s complicated. I told you, they went into hiding.”
I lick my lips, forcing my voice to stay even. “Why, though? I’m sick of the half answers. Just tell me.”
Then, he sighs, looking around before running a hand down his face. “Because they had to.”
That's still not a real answer.
“Had to? Or were forced to?”
His golden eyes darken, and I can feel the weight of something unsaid pressing between us. His next words come out slow like he's making sure he doesn't say the wrong thing.
“The witches weren’t meant to survive, Raven.”
A cold, creeping dread curls around my ribs, tightening with each passing second as the words sink like lead in my stomach. “What exactly does that mean?”
I watch him clench his jaw like he doesn’t want to say anything, but he keeps going. “They were hunted. It wasn’t just about stopping the witches, it was about making sure no one ever found… her.”
A chill races down my spine and I shake my head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
Cam exhales. “They started killing anyone who might fit the description of the prophesied witch. Any bloodline tied to old magic, and any coven that might've harbored or protected her… They were marked for death.” His voice is grim, and his eyes are darker than I've ever seen them.
“Are you saying they slaughtered every witch they could find that maybe fit a description, just to make sure they weren’t a woman who might exist?”
He nods once. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
A sick feeling coils in my stomach, sinking through my veins like ice. “So where are the ones who survived?”
He hesitates. “Scattered. Most are still in hiding. Some found protection in other realms.” His voice drops lower. “But most didn’t make it.”
The weight of his words hit me, stealing the breath from my lungs. My nails dig into my palms, and my chest tightens with something too big to name.
For weeks, I’ve been toying with the idea that I might be something more. That my magic, my past, my everything, is tangled in a history I never knew existed. But this? This is different. What if this is part of my history? Am I going to be hunted too?
The thought makes me nauseous, especially when I think about the old woman telling me I’ve been marked.
The wind howls and the sky booms with a deafening crack of thunder, but I barely hear it.
If all those witches died because I’m the witch he thinks I am…
My vision blurs at the edges and my entire body buzzes with unspent energy. I feel rage, grief, and power I can't burn through.
I feel it slip away, and it's gone before I can catch it. The connection's gone, but the storm stays—and now it isn't mine anymore.
Exhaustion slams into me, dragging at my limbs like dead weight. My legs wobble, and I have to force myself to stay upright.
“What if it’s me?” The words rip out of me as frustration claws up my chest. I clench my hands into fists so I can feel my nails biting into my palms, but it does nothing to stop the bitter weight of failure sinking deep into my bones.
Above us, the storm grows into something chaotic and uncontrolled, just like me.
“Raven, one step at a time.”
Cam steps closer like he’s speaking to a wild animal that might bolt. “You’ve only been doing this for a few weeks. You’re not going to be perfect right away. It takes time to learn how to control.”
I look at him trying to shove down the irritation in my chest. His words take the edge off, but not nearly enough.
“Yeah, well, maybe if my family didn't feel the need to keep me in the dark, I’d actually know what the hell I was doing.” I snap.
But I don’t want to stop. I want to be angry.
The wind picks up, whipping my hair around my face, but I barely register it. The only thing I can hear is the whisper again.
Fight.
“Maybe we wouldn't be out here in the middle of fucking nowhere, and you wouldn't have to be my babysitter.”
I know things are getting out of control, I can feel it. All the feelings I’ve kept bottled up are starting to bubble to the surface. I know if I don’t push them back down, I won’t be able to put the lid back on.
“Besides, not all of us get to grow up in a castle with parents who actually taught them things.” The bitterness scrapes against my throat, but I can’t stop. “You’re just like everyone else here. You probably had magic tutors. I bet you even got to go to Hogwarts. Lucky you.”
Cam raises his eyebrow, but he doesn’t flinch. He doesn't take the bait and react the way I want him to. If anything, he looks amused.
“Feel better now?” His voice is infuriatingly calm, carrying the barest hint of challenge and I glare at him.
“No, actually, I don’t.”
The wind rips around us, tugging at my clothes. The storm's still raging, but I’m too caught up in my own to care.
“Good. Let it out. All of it. Because holding it in isn’t doing you any favors, Rae. You keep pushing all this shit down and it’s going to consume you.”