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“Where, nothow.” He turns toward the door he came through. “Stonehaven contains areas specifically designed for magical training. Before the purges, they were used to help teach those with natural abilities. Come with me.”

And just like that, I fall into step behind him. Like a thread caught and pulled, whether I want it to be or not.

I follow him through passages that wind deeper into the mountain, each turn taking us further from the inhabited sections. Other people nod respectfully as we pass, some watching me with undisguised curiosity. I’m not sure if it’s because they’ve heard about the lightstone incident, or if it’s simply because I’m with Sacha, their mysterious leader returned from the dead.

The air grows cooler the deeper we go, the stone underfoot shifting from worn smoothness to a rougher, untouched texture.

The passageway opens into a large circular chamber with a high domed ceiling. The floor is inlaid with patterns I don’t recognize, silvery lines that seem to shimmer faintly. The walls are lined with recessed shelves, each holding objects of various shapes and sizes—crystals, metal implements, small wooden boxes.

Most strikingly, there arenolightstones. The only illumination comes from a single opening in the center of the domed ceiling, where sunlight pours through like a spotlight, creating a perfect circle on the floor.

“This is the training chamber.” Sacha’s voice takes on a tone that reminds me of professors back in college. “One of the few that has survived the Authority’s attempt to eliminate all knowledge of natural abilities.”

“It’s …” I stop, struggling for a word that fits. “Incredible.”

“The patterns in the floor help focus energy. The chamber itself was carved by Earthveins … earth shapers … designed to help those first learning to manifest control.” He moves to the center of the room, where the sunlight creates a perfect circle. “Stand here.”

Earthveins. Shadowvein.I want to ask more about the two words, but there’s something in his stance that stops me. Instead, I do as he instructs, and cross the stone floor, heart pounding, and step into the light. Warmth hits my face, but something more moves beneath it. A low vibration rises from the stone, traveling up through my feet, and along my spine, filling my chest like a second heartbeat.

“What am I supposed to do?” The enormity of the situation hits me.

I’m standing in a place built for magic, a world away from everything I know, about to reach for something I still don’t fully believe belongs to me. Guided by a man whose mind, for a few stolen moments, had been joined to mine.

My fingers curl into my palms, and I try to ground myself.

“Don’t try anything yet.” Sacha circles me slowly, studying me like I’m an experiment. “First, I need to understand how you experience the power when it builds.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Close your eyes.” When I hesitate, he sighs, a breath of impatience let loose. “It will help you focus on internal sensations without visual distractions.”

I obey, shutting out the chamber. The darkness isn’t complete, sunlight paints the insides of my eyelids with a reddish glow, pulsing faintly with my heartbeat.

“When these manifestations occur—the fireplace, the lightstone, the cup—what do you feel physically?” His voice comes from my right, calm and deep.

“Pressure.” I search for the memory, letting myself fall into it. “Like something building inside my head, behind my eyes. A vibration that spreads outward from my chest.”

“And emotionally? What precedes it?”

I hesitate, sifting through the moments. “Frustration. I was arguing with you when the fireplace lit. During the meeting, I wasfrustrated because I couldn’t understand what was happening. With the cup, it was when I felt … when I was thinking about home.”

My cheeks warm slightly at the omission. The cup warmed when our eyes locked across the room. When something sparked between us before the kiss ever happened. But there’s no way I’m going to admit that.

“Strong emotions appear to be your triggers.” He sounds satisfied, like I’ve confirmed a theory. “Consistent with untrained abilities.”

His footsteps circle behind me, and I fight to keep my heart rate normal. I can almostfeelhim standing there, the awareness of his presence brushing along my skin like static, impossible to ignore.

“Keep your eyes closed. I want you to focus on that feeling. The pressure, the vibration. See if you can recall it without the emotional trigger.”

I concentrate, trying to remember exactly how it felt when the lightstone shattered, or the cup heated. The physical sensations are clear in my memory, but reproducing them intentionally is harder than I expect. I search for the pressure behind my eyes, the tingling along my skin, but nothing happens.

“I can’t do it,” I admit after several minutes of fruitless effort. “It’s not the same when I’m trying to make it happen.”

“Open your eyes.”

He’s standing directly in front of me, closer than I expected him to be, studying my face with that singular focus I’ve come to recognize.

“You’re approaching it from the wrong direction. Trying to recreate the result rather than the cause.”