“Close your eyes,” I murmur. “Breathe with me. Slowly. In and out.”
Her shoulders rise and fall unevenly at first, but after a few breaths her rhythm syncs with mine.
Steady, calm, deliberate.
I can almost feel her pulse through the air between us.
“Good,” I whisper. “Now, keep that focus.”
I turn one palm upward and call a flame to life. It’s small, no bigger than a candle’s worth of fire, its glow flickering across her face.
Her eyes open, wide and bright.
“I want you to take it,” I say quietly. “Not only with your hands, but with your magic. Feel it. Match its rhythm to yours. Let it feed off what’s already inside you until it’s your power keeping it lit instead of mine.”
She hesitates, brow furrowing. “I don’t?—”
“You can,” I cut in gently. “It’s already in you, Haven. Just stop fighting it.”
Fear flashes in her eyes, but then she shoves it away, determination filling its place.
With her gaze fixed on the flame, the air between us tightens.
Slowly, the fire wavers, then stretches, its glow shifting, pulling toward her. I feel the moment her magic reaches out, tentative at first, then steadily.
The flame starts to take on a magenta hue.
“Good,” I breathe. “Now take it.”
The fire lifts from my palm, crossing the space between us. For a heartbeat, it hovers between our hands, sustained by both of us. Then the pull severs and the fire settles neatly into her cupped palms.
It flares once, small sparks shooting wild and uncertain, but she holds her breath, centering herself. The flame burns bright pink and purple, but contained. For the first time, her magic doesn’t explode from her, it’s listening and obeying.
Something tight in my chest unravels when she glances up at me, the light reflecting in her amber eyes. A light laugh of happiness bursts from her chest.
After a few more moments, she exhales and closes her fingers into a fist. The flame disappears, leaving only warmth between us.
With her eyes still trained on the spot where the flame burned, she breathes slowly and steadily, as if afraid to break the moment.
When she finally looks up, pure joy shines in her expression, and something in me loosens and then slides into place.
It’s a simple thing, seeing her happy, but it feels like the world just righted itself.
“I did it,” she says softly, in awe.
A grin stretches over my face. “You did.”
“No, Becks. I really did it. I tapped into my magic and didn’t blow anything up. I was able to control it.”
“I know,” I chuckle.
She lets out a happy squeal and then launches herself at me. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs, and before I can react, we’re both tumbling back. The snow cushions our fall, cold and soft, as laughter spills from her lips.
Haven clings to me, laughing so hard she can barely breathe, and I can’t help but join in. The sound is contagious, wild and unrestrained, and soon we’re both shaking with it, snowflakes dusting our hair. By the time our laughter fades, happy tears are streaking down her cheeks.
“Thank you,” she says softly, her smile still bright. “Without your help, I never would’ve made it this far.”
“Nah,” I murmur, grinning up at her. “You’ve always had it in you, Haven. You just needed a little push.”
