Page 121 of The Immortal’s Mark

A loud crack splits the air, and Gregory and I are thrown backward.

My back slams into the ground, the impact punching the breath out of me. Pain flares. My vision blurs as I gasp and cough, rolling onto my side to drag air into my lungs.

Beside me, Gregory coughs too, but he recovers faster, already climbing to his feet and helping me sit up.

My eyes dart wildly across the room.

My mother and Alex are both sitting up. Unharmed.

Relief hits me so fast I almost vomit.

Alex stands and offers his hand to my mother.

She doesn’t take it. She doesn’t even look at it.

Her focus locks on me, and her face is pure fury.

“I didn’t mean…I had no idea…” I scramble for words that scratch my throat.

But I don’t get the chance to apologize.

My mother lifts both hands, and a net-like projection shoots from her fingertips and slams into me.

For one terrifying second, I can’t breathe.

It’s like the air has been stolen from my lungs.

Then the sensation shifts.

The net seeps into my skin, cold and invasive, like something crawling beneath my flesh.

I gasp and cough.

Across the room, Alex’s eyes widen with an emotion so intense it makes my stomach drop. I can’t tell if it’s fear.

Or horror.

“W-what was that?” I choke out.

Gregory’s hand appears in front of me. He helps me up, steadying me when my knees wobble.

My mother rises smoothly to her feet and looks at me like I’m something volatile. Dangerous.

“A restraining spell.”

Beside me, Gregory stiffens.

Alex sucks in a sharp breath.

I blink. “A what?”

“A restraining spell,” she repeats, brushing off arms like she's brushing away dust. “Clearly, you cannot control yourself. This spell will ensure you remain in this house and keep your powers subdued.”

My brain stutters as I scramble to make sense of the words.

When I do, blood drains from my face.

No.