Spring Rain (The Witchling #4)(62)

Can Beck tame it completely?

“Yeah.”

I cannot.

Morgan opened her eyes at the statement. “But why not?” she asked dismayed. “Are you saying I’ll never be able to control it?”

It is not a bad thing. It is to be expected that the most powerful fire witchling since Tranin is too strong for even me to control. He chortled. What color were the flames you used to burn the Dark out of the witchling Noah?

“Purple then purple-black tipped with white … tipped with a rainbow then boom. Pure white,” she said, recalling the change in colors from the night before.

You burn hot enough to create Light.

“What? How?”

Light is energy. You burn hot enough to fry the impurities in the energy.

“I create Light. Like Beck does,” she said, starting to smile. “You’re serious.”

I am.

“But I can’t control it?”

Only the Master of Light can control Light. You can create it and burn the Dark out of others, but Beck alone can manage your Light. I know of no other witchling in the past thousand years who had this ability who wasn’t also a Master or Mistress.

He released her hand.

“So how do I bind something if I can’t control it?” she asked, disappointed.

You and Beck can work together.

“What if we can’t work together, Sam? What if I confront Dawn alone and try to bind her baby?”

Then do so carefully. You have some measure of control until you burn white. At that point, you cannot control. Learn to keep the flame purple. It will be hot enough to bind, but it will also destroy a person’s body. You need a healer with you if you are to try this on anyone.

She swallowed hard. She needed time to practice and felt like she had no time whatsoever to learn to master her magick.

“Burn purple.” She lifted her hand and focused on calling forth the purple flame then controlling it. Beck had been able to form visions, complete images, with his magick. She struggled to direct hers to go one direction or the other. The white fire had been happy to chase the Darkness out of Noah, hungry for the Dark in his blood. She strained to make the purple magick hug her arm without touching her skin. “Sam, I’m scared.” She lowered her arm. “I’m afraid I’ll let Beck down or hurt his baby if I try to bind her.”

There are risks when you deal with magick this powerful, Sam acknowledged. But you would not have this gift if you couldn’t handle it. You need to learn to work with Beck. It’s your best chance at defeating Bartholomew.

She made a sound of disgust. “So I guess he’s right. I do have to stick around.”

Sam laughed.

Morgan suppressed a pleased smile, thrilled whenever she thought of spending another night with Beck. “I just wish I was able to do more. Go to the Light. Something.”

Your duty is sacred. You will learn to manage.

“I hope so.” Hurting Beck wasn’t an option. The mere thought robbed her of breath and made her want to weep. He was too good, too Light, to suffer.

“Morgan!” the cry was familiar.

She turned to face the direction she’d come. “Connor?”

I must leave.

“Wait, Sam!” she rose frantically. “You have to show me more! Or practice with me!”

Family is important, he said. Go see your brother, then come back here. I’ll be close.

She hesitated, torn between the excitement of seeing her brother once more and the need to learn her duty to help Beck.

Sam made the choice for her and turned, walking deeper into the forest.

Morgan spun and ran towards the cabin. She spotted Conner not far from the road. Her brother was pale, his dark hair trimmed and green eyes riveted to her. He looked ready to have a heart attack. Michael Turner was near the cabin, watching with a smile. He turned and disappeared into the depths of the house.

“Connor!” she exclaimed and dashed to her brother. Joy replaced her worry. Without waiting for him to digest she was alive, she flung herself into his arms.

Connor hugged her hard enough she could barely breathe. He was murmuring her name, and she heard his voice crack as he began to cry.

The sight of her strong, caring brother in tears undid her. Morgan breathed in his familiar scent and began to cry as well.

“What the … hell happened?” he whispered in anguish. “My god, Morgan! How are you … alive?”

She squeezed him, unable to speak, and let her brother support her as they cried together in the forest.





Chapter Twenty One





Biji didn’t notice the drop in temperature or the fact they were the only ones in the cafe. Her eyes were on Noah’s handsome features as she pulled out the chair to the table.

“Don’t get comfortable.”

She froze at the familiar voice and turned. “Dawn!”

The Dark air witchling was flanked by at least seven other witchlings, dressed all in black with her very pregnant belly protruding. Her features were pale, her blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail.

Her once beautiful blue-grey eyes were black, and the inky ebony hue filled the whites of her eyes. Biji shuddered internally as the black gaze shifted from Noah to her.

“Get the humans out of here,” Dawn ordered one of her men, indicating the waitress and cook looking on.