Page 54 of How to Claim A Shadow King

Pickles tenses, letting out a nervous whinny, and my palms begin to sting with warmth.

Malakai pulls Gravy Boat to a stop just a few yards from the shimmering border. He turns to me, his expression deadly serious. "The Seelie creature that attacked you last night was only the beginning. Wild Fae magic is bleeding through the cracks, Aveline. If we do not reinforce the threshold, the wards will fail entirely." He extends a hand toward the fractured barrier, then looks back at me. "I can supply the dark, but a threshold requires both sides of the coin. Reach out your hand. Let the light out."

My horse stomps sideways, restless, dirt clouds flying out under his hooves.

“Whoa," I say, trying to calm him. "I think we're scaring Pickles," I tell Malakai. “I don’t think I can do this while I’m riding.”

“Fine, let the horses graze, and we'll come back here and concentrate."

Great. I've bought myself a little time to try and figure out exactly how this works.

We work in silence, tying the horses' reins to a nearby tree, where they seem content enough to flick their tails and sample the local clover.

“Why are you afraid, Aveline?" Malakai asks suddenly, the directness of his question surprising me.

“What do you mean?" I ask, tossing my braid behind my shoulder. If he's going to call me out, then he better be ready to go all the way.

“You're stalling.” He stares me down, hands on his hips. “There's nothing to fear. The magic has always been a part of you. But you must not let it be your master. You are its master.”

“I'm not afraid,” I lie.

He gives me a long, knowing look, and I roll my eyes and sigh in exasperation.

“All right, fine, I'm a little bit afraid. Mostly, though, I don't have any idea what I’m supposed to do,” I tell him. "I've never had to force it out of me."

Grumpy, I walk back to the shimmering air, studying it like it will suddenly reveal step-by-step directions if I glower at it long enough.

"Let me show you," he says from behind me.

I turn, expecting to watch him summon his shadows and glean whatever knowledge there is to extract from it, but instead, he wraps a strong arm around my waist.

My breath stills, heart beating wildly.

His other arm goes up my back, over my shoulder, and down my arm until my hand is in his. With one arm around my waist, he bends his head down so that I can feel the warmth of his breath on my ear, and he murmurs, "Reach deep inside you for that kernel of power. I know you felt it, because I've seen you summon your light, Aveline."

The way he says my name, the way it leaves his lips sends a shiver down my spine.

He lets out a low chuckle. "Focus, Aveline. There'll be time for whatever it is that's making you shiver later. All the time in the world," he says, as his lips brush the shell of my ear.

I gasp.

His hand splays across my stomach, and butterflies take flight.

"There it is," he tells me.

I can hardly think for how close he is, how warm his big body is behind mine. The way his hands feel on my waist, the way his mouth feels against my skin⁠—

"Reach for your magic, Aveline," he tells me. "Focus. Focus on where it lives deep inside you, that power, that beautiful light, and..." He grips my hand, the strength of it surprising me.

“I don’t know where it⁠—"

"Look," he tells me, and I can hear the smile in his voice. "Look at your hand. Look at your light."

I do. And I stop thinking about his body and focus on the energy pouring forth from deep inside me. It sparkles orange-gold, the color of summer sun rising on the horizon, of afternoons in fall, daylight and warmth.

"There it is," he says, his voice satisfied. "Do you see now what you are capable of?"

Light streams from all five of my fingertips.