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Her owl, Whimsy, greeted her with his piercing shriek. “We’re doing some practicing with this.” She lifted her left arm. In the dark night, and with her skin tingling, it cast a faint glow.
Whimsy left his roost in the tree and flew to the top of the roof. “Good call.”
Whimsy shrieked once more in response.
She glanced at Braden. “Get close.” Her words came out in a tight command. She almost apologized for being so strident.
Braden didn’t seem bothered, however. He just resumed his position from earlier in her workroom, then shifted to whisper in her ear. “Relax. You’ll do better if you can let some of your tension go.”
She readjusted her head-space and what do you know, her lungs opened up. She took a deep breath until her shoulders eased down. She even ended up adjusting her stance slightly.
“That’s better.”
He was good for her and again, she was grateful.
As he’d done before, he ran his palm down the length of her arm. “When I train my new wolves, especially those recently arrived in Five Bridges, I always tell them to take three deep breaths before doing anything. With each breath, force your mind to focus on one particular object. In this case, see that dirt patch where your lawn isn’t growing? Aim there.”
Maeve followed his orders to the letter.
First breath. Rocks and dirt.
Second breath. Rocks and dirt and a cluster of small rocks.
Third breath. The center rock with a green tinge down the side.
She lifted the mint pouch to her nose, brought her killing power to the fore and let a pulse fly.
A golden stream, exactly like the energy she’d released during her failed induction ceremony, flowed at the group of rocks. It delivered the strongest part to the center just as she’d visualized. Dirt and rocks kicked up into the air.
She took a moment to assess. She drew her hands together, but couldn’t detect even the smallest change in temperature with her left hand. Only a slight tingling remained.
Braden stepped around her to meet her gaze. “How was that?”
“Simple. Amazing. You’re good at training.”
“I always like seeing my wolves succeed.”
“You must miss them.”
“Every minute of every day. But they’re here.” He slapped his chest. “And I know they’re with me as I take care of business. But they’re in excellent hands with Jeremy. He’s my main beta who, I’m convinced will soon be an alpha. Warren, the alpha of the Caldion pack, keeps an eye on them as well.”
“I saw Alpha Warren once. He’s scarred.”
“Yes. He is. A witch did it.”
“That’s what I thought.”
He lowered his chin slightly. “But let’s keep practicing. My gut tells me you’ll need this skill at top performance.”
“I’m
with you.”
He took up his place once more.
She repeated the process, just as he’d instructed. Each time she focused on the growing patch of debris, especially the center in whatever way it had changed with each firing. Within fifteen minutes, she’d dug out a small crater with rocks and dirt forming a hill behind. The more she fired, the better she felt. Honing this skill, as bizarre as it was, felt as natural to her as breathing.
She was surprised on all counts. She’d thought she would hate the process and that it would always feel foreign to her.
