Page 212 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

“We said one secret.”

“Thora?” Snow’s voice echoed softly, and I turned to my sister. Kilian stood behind her, glancing between his brother and I with a cold calculating look in his face. Sometimes he made me afraid—he made me afraid all the time, actually. “Why did you two leave?”

“I needed some air. There were too many cliffs around so he brought me here.”

“Do you want to go back to the castle?”

“Why don’t you let her stay in Adriata till she gets used to the heights?” Mal said and I froze. “No one knows who she is. Kilian and I will be around her all the time, she will be safe.”

Silence howled between the four of us.

Snow looked hurt, but she nodded. “If she wants that.”

“Only for a little while,” I said and hated myself when Snow gave me a smile and nodded

Chapter thirty-two

Intempestus

Kilian

Snow stood before me, legs crossed, her eyes shut, breathing in and out while an orb of lightning enshrouded her in—her body levitating with it. The taste of her power was overwhelming the cool air of Adriata.

“Breathe in,” I said, and when she inhaled the orb grew bigger. “Good girl. Now out.” And when she exhaled it shrunk back. Her attention was more focused than before after hours of practice we had done for a week now. She’d worked on all her emotional triggers and how they affected her magic, bit by bit, and she was getting progressively better. Until—

“Open your eyes.” And when she did, the magic surrounding her shivered a little and began patching in places and escaping in others. The burning shadow standing beside me resembled a wolf, nothing that could make even a child fear, but to Snow this was her one fear. The same happened even if the wolf had been a butterfly or a songbird.

“Love,” I called, bringing her attention to me. “Stop trying to convince yourself you are not afraid.”

“You’re not making sense.” She took a deep breath, but her magic began growing and growing till I had to lift a wall of darkness around her to quell it.

Snow collapsed back, breathing hard. “It is much easier when I just blast things around.” She turned her glare on me. “You’re a terrible teacher.”

I was going to bend her over and sm—

“Why is it easier for me?” Thora asked. Unlike her sister, she’d been able to find the hang of it in no time. But with Thora, concentration was something she commanded with ease. She slipped in and out of consciousness as if it was oiled.

“How do you do it in battle?” Eren asked. He’d leaned on the court, observing and studying his little sisters, but had refused to join our practice. From what Thora had thrown here and there during dinners and odd conversation, Eren had a strained relationship with his magic. He also seemed to struggle watching his sisters use magic.

Snow shrugged. “I call as much as I can from it. Like taking a big swing for a punch.”

“That is why your seal keeps opening,” I said. “Again.”

She made a face. “Adriatian.”

“Love, sit up, close your pretty eyes and do that again for me.”

And so she did. Again, and again. Until the afternoon heat began glazing us all with sweat. She was still struggling to trust my magic, but that was not the biggest issue. It only meant Snow had not grasped control over her emotions. My wife’s struggle was that her Elding side overwhelmed the balance that Thora had. Ice and wind were both elemental. The Elding drew partly from the spiritual and until she could manage to use her emotions to her advantage, to quell and rouse them appropriately, they would always cause her trouble.

“We’re done, love.” She didn’t answer. “Snow, my heart, open your eyes.”

“I think she is asleep,” Thora whispered and pinched Snow’s cheek. “See. Asleep.”

I was an idiot. A damned idiot. I’d tired her to the point that she’d fallen asleep upright.

Gathering my wife’s body in my arms, I stood. It was not nearly sunset, but she probably needed the rest. “Help me get her ready for bed?”

She nodded and followed beside me to our room.