Page 62 of A Court of Thralls and Thorns

Naia raised an eyebrow as she took a bite of her food. “And what about today’s powers?” she asked. “Any idea why the magic was so easy for some to control and difficult for others?”

Cordelle hesitated before replying, his voice more serious than usual. “Elemental powers are usually inherited. Earth magic is tied to the stability and roots of the land, which explains why it came easily for me. As for the Kinetic Surge—Naia, I think you’ll have to learn to focus it in short bursts or you’ll end up tearing down the whole training ground.”

By the time we returned to our room, exhaustion had begun to sink into my bones. The trials, the training, the argumentbetween the princes—it was all too much. I just wanted to lie down and shut out the world for a while.

I kicked off my boots and flopped onto my bed, intent on stealing a nap, but the moment I closed my eyes, a prickle ran up my arm.

A tingle, like something static, something charged.

The hairs on my skin stood on end, and the sensation spread, crawling up my shoulder and across my chest.

Above us, a thunderclap split the sky.

The air in the room thickened, a strange pressure building, and dread settled in my stomach like a stone.

Please, not me. Not again.

I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists, trying to will it away, but my breath caught as the tingling intensified—sparking at my fingertips like unseen lightning.

“Ashe, open your eyes,” Riven’s voice cut through the room.

I shook my head. “No.”

“Ashe. Now.”

I hesitated, but something in her tone forced me to obey.

I blinked my eyes open—and Riven gasped.

“They… look like storm clouds.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, my body rigid as Cordelle stepped forward. His gaze was keen, calculating, the scholar in him outweighing the poet for once.

“You need to control it,” he instructed.

“I can’t!” My voice cracked. “I’m not doing this!”

Cordelle exchanged a glance with Tae before speaking carefully, like he was piecing together a theory as he spoke.

“You might be experiencing backlash from your dragon.”

I stilled.

“What?”

“If she’s as powerful as they say,” he continued, “then she might be having a… tantrum. And you’re too new at this to shield yourself.”

“How do we stop it?” Ferrula asked, concern threading into her voice.

Even Eilvin, who had barely spoken since Lauren’s death, shifted uneasily. “This isn’t normal.”

Cordelle reached out, his fingers brushing my arm.

“Do you still have the charm I gave you?”

I fumbled with the sleeve of my tunic exposing the bracelet with the charm.

“Good,” Cordelle said. “Keep it close—it might help?—”