Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“I was paying attention. What does magic feel like?”
“All magic has a different sense to it, depending on what the person is capable of. But magic itself, raw magic, has always been pure energy. Like when the sun shines on your skin, warming you, or the crackling of a fire. You can feel the energy from the fire, from the sun.”
She nodded. “I can feel the energy off of you all the time.”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Can you?”
“Your heat, fire. You’re constantly burning up.”
His look heated her up right then. She had never told him that she could feel how warm he was around her. He seemed impressed.
“Then you have the first sense of it. I am constantly using low levels of magic to maintain my wards. I always run warm, but it’s the magic you feel. There’s more than the physical heat. There’s the magical energy. There’s a life to it. Sometimes a smell to it. I’ve been told that my magic smells like leather and parchment.”
She frowned and wondered if she’d ever smelled that on him. But she didn’t think so.
“That’s where we’re going to start today. I want you to find my magic. Sense it. After that, we’ll work on having you actively absorb my magic into your body.”
Doubt crept through her. She had never been magical except by coincidence. Her slow motion was a natural extension of herself. She’d never known it was magic. She hadn’t even known she was absorbing magic, and she couldn’t seem to get any of the warding to work. She didn’t know if she could do this.
“Breathe, Wren,” he reminded her, settling his hands on her shoulders to get her to focus on him. Her eyes met his, and even though the contact should have made her uneasy, it relaxed her.
She released a breath and nodded as he added, “It’s just practice.”
“Okay, I’m ready.”
Once she had finally calmed, Graves withdrew and then slowly removed his gloves. Knowing how much work it took him to be comfortable around her without them, she loved when he took them off. Loved every glimpse she got of that hidden tattoo.
“I’m going to touch you, releasing my energy into you as my magic tries to read you. You’ll naturally absorb it, but I want you to focus on it. Feel the energy.”
“I’ll try.” She hesitated. “Will you be able to read me?”
“No. Not unless you’re overwhelmed by magic.”
“Okay,” she said softly.
“May I?”
She nodded. This time, he was asking permission. How different that must be for a man who always took what information he wanted. Even knowing he couldn’t take from her, he was still being careful. She appreciated it.
His fingers curled invitingly around her wrist, the pressure of his palm gentle against her bare skin. She was distracted as she got lost in his swirling gray eyes. He so rarely touched her that it was hard to focus. She had to bring her concentration back on the magical training.
Kierse tried to sense something other than his touch and the heat of him sliding up her wrist. She narrowed her eyes. There must be something. She wanted so badly to smell that tang of the leather and the fresh parchment from him. To know what he really smelled like. Not just the man he appeared on the outside, but the real person underneath it all. No matter how hard she tried, all she felt was him touching her.
“Any luck?” She shook her head, and he released her. “I have some other ideas as well. It won’t come automatically. Especially since you have never had to be intentional about your own abilities. It’s new. We’ll keep working on it.”
“All right,” she said, disappointed.
It wasn’t like she had learned to steal in one sitting. She couldn’t expect herself to get it immediately, but she still wanted to.
“Do you think all of this isn’t working because I’m not a warlock?”
He shook his head. “No. I think it’s just new. And there’s only one way to get better.”
“Practice,” she said, and they went back to work.
After hours of training, Kierse was no better off than when she had begun. She couldn’t feel the magic that she was absorbing. There was no buzz or rumble or sense to it. There was just Graves, touching her.
Or her hand on the ward against one of his boxes that felt like cold wood. Or an ounce of red wish powder that he produced in a vial. Just looking at it had made her want to throw up. But he’d assured her it was nothing like what she’d inhaled at Imani’s house and then unhelpfully told her that she might be more susceptible to it after what happened. Be able to feel its power.
She couldn’t.
Instead, she broke out into cold sweats and had to try another day.