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“What don’t you want anyone to hear?” I ask warily, my magic ready to strike out at my notice.
“About your magic,” he says, glancing around the room as if scared someone still lingers within these four walls. “I don’t want anyone to hear what I’m about to say about your magic.”
My throat instantly dries at his mention of my magic, and I swear my heart drops into my stomach. I shake my head, my brows furrowing as I attempt to stand.
“I’m going to put a silencing spell on the room,” he says in a soothing tone as if he’s trying to calm a terrified animal. My shock turns to anger in an instant at the implication.
“Please just stay.” His pleading tone seems to cool some of the simmering rage in my veins and I nod stiffly, willing to hear him out.
“As long as this conversation stays between us.”
“Of course,” he breathes, and his shoulders slump slightly in relief. “Confuto.”
A hum of magic vibrates through the air with his spell, blocking our sounds from anyone outside this room.
“So what do you want to say about my magic?” I cross my arms over my chest, narrowing a suspicious look his way. He might be taking precautions, but it honestly is a risk just to mention it at all with someone I don’t know. Even if the stone showed him something about just how much power I have, he could have kept it to himself.
“The stone of reckoning was set mistakenly to both show the ranking of the powers along with the ratings,” he explains, his frown deepening as he takes in the hostility radiating off me.
“And?”
“Your rating was off the charts, Aria,” he breathes. “I did some research, and it’s even higher than Isabella Hart, who had the highest recorded level of magic in thousands of years.”
“I know that,” I say coolly, waiting for some new information. “I’m very aware of how much magic I have and my family’s history.”
“I’m not sure you are.” His lips quirk to the side as annoyance radiates off of him. “Isabella had years of training to keep her powers in her control, but yours far exceeds even hers. I’m worried if you continue to hide this it might have devastating consequences.”
“Consequences?” I ask hesitantly, some of my earlier attitude fading at the panic in his tawny-brown eyes.
“Yes, it could very well take control of you if you don’t drain it off deliberately,” Landon explains. He breathes a sigh of relief, clearly reassured that he seems to be getting through to me. “We should go to the elders and tell them—”
“No,” I blurt, nearly tumbling off the side of my chair in my haste to put some distance between us.
“But, Aria—”
“No—you listen to me now.” I stride around to the other side of the too-small desk, towering over him as he remains seated. “You know who I am and who my grandmother is, correct?”
I cock a brow in challenge, and he nods in response.
“Then you already know Glenda Hart is the head of the elders. She knows about my magic and has wanted me to keep it a secret all these years,” I declare, needing him to understand just how dangerous this is.
“But there are others—”
“No. If you’re saying that then you still don’t know what kind of woman my grandmother is,” I cut him off, leaning over the desk to make sure my point is clear. “If she gets wind that anyone out of her influence or my inner circle knows about my powers, she’ll kill them to keep it under wraps.”
I let that hang in the air for a moment, allowing the full severity of the situation to sink in.
“Do you understand now?”
“Why wouldn’t she want to share your power?” he asks, a crease forming between his brows.
“I don’t know,” I bark, lowering my hands onto the desk and leaning closer, my hands shaking with the effort it takes to hold myself back and not throttle this man. I literally just told him if he keeps involving himself, Glenda will kill him, and that’s what he asks? He stands his ground, not backing away or cowering despite the vitriol dripping from my words. “Maybe she wants to keep me as her secret weapon, maybe she doesn’t want some asshole doing some experiments on me, or hell maybe she’s just a jealous bitch that doesn’t want to admit her granddaughter is more powerful than her. I. DON’T. KNOW.”
He presses his lips into a thin line, his eyes going distant, seemingly deep in thought.
“Well we can work on that later,” he murmurs almost to himself and I balk at his lack of self-preservation. Most people would’ve been halfway to the hill by now if I told them Glenda Hart might kill them. “But in the meantime we need to find a way to work off some of your power.”
I flinch back at the keen interest that lights in his eyes, taking a cautious step away from him.
