The children fanned out in a semicircle around Elyria, their eyes darting between her wings and her hands as she lifted them, fingers spread wide, palms upturned. Wisps of shadow pooled in each hand, slipping from beneath her skin like ribbons of silken smoke, twining together.
At first, they were barely silhouettes—more vague, amorphous spheres of shadow, barely more than what Elyria had been able to achieve that morning with Nox. Still, the children were enraptured as her magic danced in her hands, and it didn’t take long for even Cedric to move closer, his eyes fixed on her shadows, his charred sandalwood scent wafting over her.
The orbs of darkness suddenly split, multiplying in Elyria’s palms. Taking shape, taking form. She had to suppress her own sharp intake of breath as smokey wings sprouted from them, her shadows shaping themselves into a dozen dark butterflies.
They flitted into the air, the children’s delighted gasps and shrieksringing out as they jumped to their feet, wonder shining in their eyes. The shadowy butterflies spiraled around their heads, frolicked between their arms and legs, playful, joyous.
It was a wondrous thing to behold, and despite the fact that she wasn’t entirely certain how she’d accomplished it, Elyria’s smile grew. The rush of the children’s joy bolstered her own, and her magic thrummed through her veins, stronger and surer than it had in a long while. Just for a few moments, Elyria decided, she would allow herself to revel in it.
In the thrill of creation.
All the while, Cedric watched her. As though he, too, was caught in the spell she was weaving. But his expression... it was full of an unsettling intensity. Awe. Reverence. Like he’d just watched her perform a miracle.
Like he was seeing her for the first time.
Tenny clapped her hands together, her laughter bright and genuine as Elyria broke her gaze from Cedric. “Absolutely dazzling. You’ve enchanted them.”
“Yes,” Cedric agreed, his voice strained as his gaze followed the butterflies—and the children chasing them—out the front door.
Ollie and Jocelyn followed after them, leaving Elyria, Cedric, and Tenny alone in the house.
“You have quite the talent for showmanship.” Cedric’s shoulders were tight, his hands flexing at his sides.
A flash of hurt ran through Elyria. “All for show, is it?” she said icily.
“I didn’t mean”—Cedric cleared his throat, his gaze skittering away from hers—“I only meant that the children seem to appreciate your magic.”
“Of course they do. They’ve only barely been taught to fear it.” She dropped her gaze to the floor. “I’m sure that will change before long.”
Silence clung to the space between them.
Tenny shifted on her feet, her fingers toying nervously with her locket. “I, uh, think I’ll see if the housemistress needs help carrying her purchases from the market.”
Cedric’s gaze followed her as she scurried out the door. “I’ve never seen her move that fast,” he said with a gentle laugh.
“Awkwardness is a powerful motivator,” Elyria said.
More silence.
“I’ve never feared your magic,” he finally said, voice low.
“Liar, liar,” Elyria sang.
“Once I knew you,” he clarified, stepping toward her, close enough for that scent of embers and sandalwood to fully envelop her. “Once I understood that you didn’t—That you’d never?—”
Elyria bit her lip. “What makes you think you know me now?” She’d meant the words to be more biting, to issue them like a challenge. Instead, they were gentle, vulnerable.
Cedric didn’t answer. Only looked at her with those gold-ringed eyes like he could see straight to the center of her, could see her heart beating against her ribs.
Beating for him.
A squeal of laughter echoed from outside, breaking the renewed silence that hung heavy between them. Cedric cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
“I didn’t either,” Elyria admitted quietly. “Until today.”
His throat bobbed. “Can you call them back?”
She nodded, lifting her arm, palm up. For a single breath, she thought she saw Cedric’s own hand twitch, his weight shifting as though he meant to reach for her. But then she curled her fingers into a fist, and the choir of happy squeals and the patter of little feet grew louder.
