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But she wasn’t willing to talk to anyone, much less him about that aspect of her life.

“You may have to go back to basics to cast the blooming spell.” He moved from the papasan chair to beside her in the blink of an eye. “What’s the first step?”

Rowan shook her annoyance with the man off as she recalled the baby steps of magic from her elementary school. There was no way she was going to pass up learning something from the most formidable Spellcaster to exist. This was what she’d wanted from him since she’d first learned who he was.

For the next hour they worked on meditation, then a bit of incantation until they began trying the different channels.

Rowan found her mind sharpened by this point.

Intentionally using the building blocks of magic was making her every move feel purposeful and strong.

It changed the way she sat, the way she breathed. She was ready.

With her eyes closed, she felt for the threads of life that the plant exuded. It pulsed as it thrived, eager to reach the next stage of its life.

Plants were always eager for it. It was why she adored working with them so much. It was an infectious trait.

Working from the ground up, she gathered the bit of magic it would take to nudge the plant with her muladhara gate at the base of her spine. The bud increased in size, but minimally.

She moved on to her svadhishthana gate, settled in the depths of her belly.

Pulling magic with it always gave her the slight feel of freefall.

When she released the magic back over the plant, she could see the color of the petals would be red-orange, like a ripe peach.

These two gates were what she usually used when she took in the energy from her feeds.

Further up, just underneath her ribcage, was her manipura gate. She’d never pulled magic with it, so when the magic listened, shock flushed through her.

“What is it?” Alessandro asked from the other side of the plant when she released her position in surprise.

“That was my manipura gate. It’s never engaged in pulling magic!”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Never?”

“No.”

He let out a low hum. His eyes shone, but much like when he’d visited her in her childhood room, she couldn’t tell which color they shifted to.

“How long have you been lining yourself with null charms?”

“Since I was nine.”

“This is a good way to test what you’ve enhanced in that time. Try again.”

She did. It still stunned her.

“Release.”

Rowan poured the magic onto the petals and her breath hitched as the petals began parting.

He grinned at her. “Three out of three. Keep going.”

The anahata gate, sitting at the center of her chest, caused the most change to the plant. It was where she called forth her sword of light. The bud went from the size of a mandarin to the size of a grapefruit.

Between her eyebrows, her ajna gate, like her manipura gate, was new to pulling magic. The action caused goosebumps to erupt along the back of her neck and down her arms.

This was strange. Too strange.

The last gate was her sahasrara. If this one pulled, Rowan was going to scream.

“Is that fear on your eyebrow, princess?”

She narrowed her eyes. “It’s caution. That was six for six. If I pull from sahasrara…” Her words failed her.

He raised an eyebrow. “You will pull from your sahasrara. Little elf, you’re Blessed. It’s where the gods can reach you from the Celestial Realms.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Then she let out a scream.

Frustration swelled in her chest.

Years. Years of being ignorant of her potential.

Of her truth.

She clenched her hands and stood. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

He also rose to his feet. “What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid!” She snarled as she stormed past the threshold of her bedroom door. “I’m pissed.”

The Dragon King appeared in front of her. She didn’t let that stop her. He was in the astral plane. He shouldn’t have been able to interact with the real world. But she slammed against his chest.

She glared up at him from her spot on the floor. “What the fuck!?”

He held out a hand to help her up, and she slapped it away, letting her head fall to the floor with a thud. Her vision swam with the force of it, but she had nowhere to vent her grievance.

He crouched down next to her head, propping his chin up on his hand as he looked down at her. “You’re an interesting creature, Rowan Dahl.”

She scoffed. “I’m not a cre-. Well. Shit. I don’t actually know what I am.”

“You’re Rowan Dahl. What else matters?” He asked.

“Shouldn’t I at least know what being Rowan Dahl actually means?”

“You don’t know what being Rowan Dahl means?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’ve known you for all of three days and know exactly what it means.”

He said it like a fact. Rowan took a deep breath, reaching up to wrap a finger around one of his curls. “I shouldn’t be able to feel you.”

“No. You shouldn’t.”

She dropped the curl, tucked her knees underneath her, and turned to him. “What does it mean?”

“Potential. Period. End of sentence.” His eyes were so bright that even if she couldn’t tell the color, they hurt her own to look at him for too long.

“I am afraid.”

“I know.”

“You’re power and you’re not afraid.” She whispered.

“You’re not afraid of me, either. It isn’t power you fear. What in the world do you think you possess that is more frightening than me? I ask again, what are you so afraid of?”

Her eyes fluttered closed. It felt like it would relieve some of the sting of her confession. “I’m afraid if I go too far, that my family will realize that The Coven had a point, that I am a monster.”

She felt him move to lay his head down next to hers. She opened her eyes and turned to look at him when he settled. Her lips were near his forehead, they were nose to nose, and she could feel his breath in the strands of her hair.

It lulled her eyes shut once more. How could comfort and danger exist so perfectly in him?

“There was a time when I was a kid. I burned down ten acres of the forest behind our house because my mom told me I couldn’t leave the table until I was done with my food.

In the Eastern Elven Kingdom, we use more candles than lightbulbs.

I was so angry that I was shooting everything around the apartment in a telekinetic tantrum.

One candle made it to the edge of the forest. It might have been a small, manageable fire, but my parents couldn’t calm me down.

The fire, already linked to my loss of control, spread fast. My dad, running out of options, slapped me.

His face…” she sighed. “It was the first time he realized he was in over his head. That I was a menace to the carefully crafted peace of his kingdom. I saw the terror in his eyes. I knew he hated himself for hitting me. He was crying as he pulled me in, whispering sorry over and over again. I watched the forest burn. Heard the animals cry, and I promised myself I would be more careful with my magic.”

“So, you made it your mission to be not only more careful with your own magic, but also to clean up the messes of everyone else’s loss of control.”

“It’s gotten to the point I’m neurotic about it now.”

“Lucky for the rest of us.” His lips brushed against her forehead as he spoke.

“You must know it is a safer world with your presence. You’re not a monster, little elf.

In fact, you’re the opposite, a product of love.

A type of love that won’t shatter because you’re a handful.

The only way you will lose a family like that is if you walk away from it. ”

His words warmed her chest.

Growing up, she never found a place she belonged in the Eastern Elven Kingdom.

Lexine was the heir apparent, and by far the most brilliant choice, too.

She kept their people healthy with her gift of medicine.

No one had her skill in diplomatic affairs.

Axel bolstered their strength with strategies.

Forces like the Coven hesitated acting against them because of the security measures her elder sister weaved both in the open through treaties and in the shadows through threats.

Zeva had grown up in the libraries of the kingdom, gone toe to toe with every scholar and made it her personal mission to ensure the education of all elven children was on even ground.

Without realizing it, she had attributed her inability to fit in through the kingdom to being unable to fit in with her family.

But physical distance wasn’t the same as emotional distance. How could she have forgotten about their love?

The warmth of their affection had allowed her to overlook the pain of the power test unit year after year.

In her mind, if she passed with her charade, no one could take her family from her. She wouldn’t end up like those recruiters they’d sent to her.

Success stories of their indoctrination, each Coven-raised like she could be if she joined them.

Those people hadn’t had families who threatened retaliation when the witches came for them. They didn’t have a Master Japhet, who found them entertaining enough to mentor them through their worst years.

Somehow, they lacked substance, hardly more than NPCs to the game called life. They felt empty and disconnected.

Their presence reinforced her desire to avoid the Coven, rather than enticed her to join them.

Alessandro was right. She couldn’t see her family letting her go.

Even if she tried to walk away, she was sure they’d all follow and tackle her to the ground.

Who was she to paint their love as superficial when they’d proven over a lifetime that they could and would go above and beyond to protect her?

Rowan took in the moment of feeling his magic brush against her face before she found her resolve once more. “Can you teach me?”

“Yes.” The pressure of his body abandoned her, leaving her cold. “First step is getting your ass back in that room and trying again.”

She squared her shoulders. “Okay.”