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I will not give up.
I reinforced my layer over and over first, simple green sparks that glowed around me like a second skin, then spontaneously summoned vines that slipped around me like armor.
The mantle was unimpressed. I was better able to withstand its blows, but I was still doing my impression of a punching bag rather than a queen.
Flashes of fire danced around me. Magic slammed into me with each wave, like a rocket launched at me.
I tensed, but I refused to fully flinch.
I shut my eyes to concentrate. It went against my shifter instincts to keep eyes on the enemy, but, as I reminded myself, the lake was not my enemy, not truly.
You want to see if I have the strength to be worthy,I thought at it.I’ll show you strength.
It wasn’t like the other times when I’d used my magic, where I’d been terrified and grasping around wildly. Deep down, I understood that wasn’t what the lake wanted. It wanted control. It wanted precision. And perhaps, even though it was Hell, a realm full of monsters and cruelty and death, it wanted something more.
My lessons with Hecate had stressed the technicalities of magic. If you were powerful, you could perform any number of arts, but there would always be a specific type of magic that you were drawn to above all others.
For Hecate, that had been enchantments.
For me?
It wasn’t anything so simple. Or the opposite: maybe it was far simpler.
My magic was life.
The vines I’d wrapped protectively around my body melted away, exposing me to the lake. Yet the mantle paused its siege as if waiting to see what I would do. The vines spread wider, encircling me first in a large sphere, then growing, growing, growing wider. They didn’t stay simple green stalks. Instead, I pushed them to the perimeter, sprouting offshoots over and over until my net covered the entire lake.
Then I gave it one final command.
Bloom.
Petals exploded through the lake. Several disintegrated as lava flashed hot against them, combating the sudden onslaught, but they bloomed again, over and over as my magic fed into the vines. They weren’t simple flowers, but a representation of my magic, the green sparks filling the center of every blossom as if it was pollen, filling my lungs as I breathed in deeply.
Eventually, the magic of the mantle stopped fighting the flowers. I had won.
Yet it was more than that, wasn’t it?
“It’s a gift.” I wasn’t sure what spurred me to say that, but it felt right.
“A gift.”The mantle paused as if considering. “Very well. You have passed the first trial.”
The second trial began instantly.
At least, it was that, or the mantle was thoroughly pissed off at my gift.
The lava was no longer turbulent, yet instead of easing up, a new feeling of animosity rose.
Images flashed around me on all sides, as I was surrounded by their portraits.
Sabine.
Richard.
Maddox.
And then, in front of me, Jett.
“Weak little Omega,” Sabine hissed.
