Rook dropped down beside me, not even breathing hard. "You're learning."
"I'm flailing."
"Flailing with intent," his eyes warm despite his serious expression. "That's progress."
I looked up at him, taking in the slight swelling on his jaw from where I'd accidentally clocked him. "I really am sorry about hitting you."
"Don't be," Rook's hand found mine, his calloused palm rough against my skin. "You've got a decent right hook when you commit to it. We just need to work on your aim."
Something shifted between us in that moment. His thumb traced circles on the back of my hand, the simple touch sending warmth up my arm. I became acutely aware of how close we were, both of us on the floor, the others watching with varying degrees of interest from across the room.
"You're staring," Rook's voice dropped lower.
"You're worth staring at," I winked.
His eyes darkened to molten gold, the wolf rising closer to the surface. For a heartbeat, I thought he might kiss me right there in front of everyone. Instead, he stood in one fluid motion, pulling me up with him.
"Enough training for today," his tone slightly rougher than before. "Before you actually manage to give me a concussion."
"Probably wise," I stretched, feeling muscles I'd forgotten existed protest the movement.
"My turn,"Zane stood from the couch with feline grace, stretching his arms overhead until his spine popped. "Since Rook's teaching you the werewolf method of 'get hit until you learn not to,' let me show you something more elegant."
"Your fae magic?" I was genuinely curious despite my exhaustion.
"A simple exercise in controlled magical release," Zane gestured for me to stand in the center of the room. "Your markings respond to emotion, right? So let's see if we can teach them to respond tointentinstead."
"That sounds reasonable and not at all likely to explode," I took my position, watching as he moved to face me from a few feet away.
"The trick," Zane's mismatched eyes locked with mine, one blue, one green, both intense, "is to channel your prophetic energy with purpose rather than panic. Think of it like," he paused, searching for an analogy, "like redirecting a river instead of damming it."
"I can do that," I nodded, trying to project confidence I absolutely didn't feel.
"Focus on your markings," he instructed. "Feel the energy flowing through them. Don't fight it. Just observe it."
I closed my eyes, tuning into the constant hum beneath my skin. The blue lines pulsed with their familiar rhythm, each beat sending small waves of power rippling through my body.
"Good," Zane's voice was soothing. "Now, choose one marking. Just one. Focus all your attention on it."
I selected a simple spiral on my left wrist, concentrating on it until I could feel nothing else.
"Excellent. Now, with intention, direct the energy from that marking outward. Not explosively. Just a gentle flow."
I did as he instructed, visualizing the energy leaving the spiral and flowing into the air around me.
What happened next was not gentle.
The blue light erupted from my wrist in a fountain of sparkling energy that shot toward the ceiling. Where it hit, reality hiccuped. The white paint turned a brilliant chartreuse, then cycled through the entire color spectrum before settling on a pattern of polka dots that pulsed in time with my heartbeat.
"That's new," I opened my eyes.
But the chaos was just beginning. The energy ricocheted off the ceiling, bouncing around the room like a demented baseball of sorts. Where it touched, things changed. The couch sprouted tentacles that waved hello. The windows became transparent from both sides simultaneously, creating an optical paradox. And worst of all, forms began materializing in the air, sheets of paper, hundreds of them, filling the room like a bureaucratic blizzard.
"What the…!" Zane dove for cover as papers swirled around him.
I snatched one from the air, squinting at the print. "Is this a tax form?"
"It's Form 62-J!" Fenric looked genuinely distressed, ducking as another sheaf of papers flew past his head. "Prophetic Incident Documentation! But they're manifesting spontaneously!"
