Winter Fire (The Witchling #3)(57)

She opened the second drawer and found a similar hole. The rock had gone through all four drawers and rested on the wood flooring beneath the dresser. She knelt on hands and knees to retrieve it.

It was cold, and her flames automatically warmed her hand where she held it. They could do nothing to warm the stone, though, just take away the sense of frostbite she felt whenever she touched it.

What was it? She never thought twice about it before, but today, its evil was apparent. It glowed, no longer dormant. No longer waiting for something.

She couldn’t help the instinct that told her this … thing was alive, like each of the flames in a fire. Unlike a fire – which could be good or evil, depending on the emotions of its creator and the people around it – this rock was pure Darkness.

It didn’t belong here, around someone like the Master of Light. It was the opposite of Beck’s warm, light presence, and suddenly, she couldn’t help thinking that she never should’ve brought the rock here in the first place.

Not that it mattered. She’d already ruined everything, just by being who she was. The witchlings would spend Christmas helping to rebuild the boys’ dorms.

She didn’t know what would happen to her.

Morgan placed the rock on top of her dresser and stared at it.

Then why isn’t she a Light witchling?

Of all the comments the kids made, this was the one that hurt the most. Sam said she was stuck between, because her parents were both Dark. Her father and uncle said it was because she was a bad person, like her mother and every other fire witchling.

Either way, there was one truth: she wasn’t a Light witchling. Clearly, the others felt like she didn’t belong there in the first place. Maybe she didn’t.

Then why did Beck like her? Why had she always felt there was something between them outside her control? He was the Master of Light. He couldn’t be with someone Dark.

He deserved better than to be with someone stuck in-between.

Morgan sat on her bed and cried. Her heart felt like it was breaking, and the rock made her whole room cold.

A knock at her door jarred her out of her thoughts. She didn’t want to deal with Connor or the other kids.

“Go away, Connor!” she called.

“It’s me.” Beck’s voice made her heart race then plunge to her feet.

Morgan hesitated. She really did want to see him again but was afraid of what he’d say.

She wiped her eyes and opened the door. Beck offered a tight smile, appearing distracted. His eyes settled on her face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, focusing on her. He moved into the room and touched her arm, his magick soothing her distress.

“You didn’t see the tree?” she asked.

“Yeah, I did.”

Morgan’s eyes watered. She wrung her hands then wrapped her arms around him. Beck sighed and hugged her. He was warm, the familiar feel of his body stilling some of her fear.

“They can’t be blaming you,” he breathed.

“They are.”

“You weren’t even here!”

“Connor says it looks suspicious. But even if I didn’t do it, I could’ve stopped it, and I wasn’t here to do even that!” she whispered.

“Did you tell them you were with me?”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“No fraternization policy. Amber says it’s instant suspension, so I’d get sent away, and Connor would kill you.”

“None of this is your fault. If anything, I should’ve been here. It’s my job to protect the witchlings. I’m failing right and left.”

His pain disturbed her much more than her own. Morgan pushed her fire into him, until the hurt was consumed by it.

“Thanks. Doesn’t change the facts, though,” he said, amused.

“This isn’t your fault,” she replied and pulled her head back to gaze up at him. “You are the best person I know. But you can’t save the world or prevent everything bad from happening. You can only really pick which battles you choose to fight.”

Beck studied her. “I think that’s the smartest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“My self-defense instructor used to tell me that,” she admitted. “He’s right, Beck. You can’t think that about yourself.”

“You’re so sweet.” He rested his forehead against hers. “All we have to do is tell Amber you were with me. I’ll ask her not to call your parents. She’ll listen to me.”





Morgan was quiet, listening. Beck held her. Her fire magick was agitated, but touching her brought them both some peace. She was hiding her face from him, and he assumed it was because she was crying. Morgan was private and trusted no one, which was why he was thrilled that she had hugged him. No part of him wanted to leave her to see Amber. Kissing her last night was unlike anything he expected. The intensity of her magick promised to make their nights together incredible, and he’d been nearly swept away by her passion. She was too inexperienced to know how to control either her magick or her hormones, and her response to him was raw, intense.

“Okay?” he asked. “We can go see her together.”

His mind kept going to her intent to run away. Was he enough to keep her there after this? Because whatever was between them was beyond what he’d felt with other girls.