emptiness—one I fear I’ll never shake. The hollowness where my devotion to my coven once resided is a startling reminder that I can no longer rely on Mamá for guidance. If I want to control my magic, I need to learn to do so on my own.
I wait for the fire to thicken, but it doesn’t. The air around me doesn’t grow hot; my skin is not moist. There is no mist, no heat, no fire. There is only magic, and it coats my skin so tightly, I’m not sure where it ends and I begin.
I open my eyes, letting the vision of Holland before me blur.
“Incendia,” I say again. My voice is soft, but my intention is powerful.
Still, nothing happens.
Defeated, I sigh, slouching over, relinquishing my hold on my magic. It dissipates, escaping back into my body, nestling itself inside. I sink into my hands, staring at the floor.
“Don’t give up, Ava,” Holland says. He shimmies toward me and rests his hand atop my own.
I look up at him. “I don’t think this is going to work,” I admit.
“Well, it won’t with that attitude,” he says pointedly.
I shake my head. “This just doesn’t feel the same. This magic, whatever it is, feels different. It doesn’t feel like one singular element.”
Holland sits back, resting on his palms. With his arms outstretched behind him, he eyes me curiously, a funny look on his face. He’s deep in thought, contemplating my predicament just like I should be.
“Maybe it isn’t,” Holland says.
“Isn’t what?” I ask.
“Just one element.”
Chapter Seven
I kick the snow at my feet, thinking about Holland’s words. I should be focusing on patrolling the woods, especially since I’m hunting alone tonight. But I can’t. Even the sounds of the forest have fallen mute. All I can hear are his words, and they loop endlessly in my mind.
Maybe it’s not just one element.
I suppose that makes sense. After all, a spirit witch has access to all five elements, and maybe this magic is a culmination of them all. But what does that mean? What kind of power is that? What happens when all five elements blend into one power? Is this what happens when spirit becomes physical?
I sigh. There’s still so much I don’t know, don’t understand. Will I ever have a handle on this new life? It seems like answers come with more questions.
I scan my surroundings, hoping to find a reasonable distraction, but the woods are devoid of life. It seems I’m the only restless soul out tonight.
I imagine the rest of Darkhaven is already lost in a deep sleep, and with the sun soon to rise, the vampires are finding their way home. I wasted too much time training with Malik and calling my magic with Holland. I should have hunted the moment the sun set. We’ve spent far too many hours pretending I’ll get a handle on this, and I’m still no closer to understanding what’s happening to me. Even though I try to convince myself otherwise, I feel like a lost cause.
I shake away the thought and reach for my cross necklace. It’s cool to my touch. The silver metal sparkles, shimmering against my pale skin. I tuck it beneath my shirt, shivering as it cascades against my collarbone. Though I’m elated to know I can once again wear this cross, I know it comes at a price. To be worthy of its protection, I forfeited the one tool that gave me the confidence to vanquish whatever demons come my way.
I feel empty without my stake. It wasn’t simply a weapon; it was an extension of my soul. Bound together with my magic, the silver metal tore through the flesh of my enemies. With it by my side, I never feared what lurked in the shadows. Now I’m surrounded by darkness, ever searching for my stake’s guiding light.
I find myself walking closer to my former coven and farther from my new home. The vampires are busying themselves with their daily lives, and even without stalking them, I know the witches are struggling to find Liv. Stuck in the middle, I seem to be the only one out of place. I’m seeking guidance and finding silence.
Everyone has a plan, a place. Amicia says jump, and the vampires ask how high. She says we will not help the witches, and the vampires don’t object. Meanwhile, I’m haunted so severely by my decision to forsake the witches, my regret is seeping into my dreams. I’m having nightmares that feel so real,