The Hunter and the Mage (The Raven and the Dove #2) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,19

here was so disciplined. They didn’t speak out of order, didn't step out of line. It made Lyana want to scream.

"Bring your magic to the surface," Malek told her as he took her fingers. "Try to see what I do with mine. Try to feel my spirit and my power as I work."

He nodded to his crew. Nyomi lifted her hands, blue sparks coming to life in an instant. Viktor turned his face to the sky, a yellow aura shimmering around his palm. The sea before her erupted. Spouts of water jetted up from the waves, droplets splashing her face as they slithered like snakes through the air. Gray vapors swished as a squall descended, wrapping her in furious winds. The sails overhead slapped with the gusts. The two mages worked together, wind tunneling into a vortex as water lifted in a cyclone, both swirling with destructive might.

All at once, the maelstrom froze.

Wind and water hung suspended in the air, broken by the spirit power surging from Malek's palm. Lyana focused her gaze, seeing with her magic, the elements falling away as saturated hues infiltrated the gray. Blue, yellow, and gold threads wove together, a chaos she didn’t know how to decipher as the ship closed in on the stalled tornado. He flicked his fingers. Water and wind yawned open and the storm parted, cleaving into a tunnel. Lyana gasped as they sped through the opening, tightening her hold on Malek's hand. With the magic so close, she finally saw what he'd been trying to tell her. His power didn’t touch the blue or the yellow. It carved between them and cut around them, encasing the swirling hues in unbreakable golden bonds.

"If you control the space around and between the elements," Malek murmured, no strain evident in his voice, "you control the elements themselves. The difference is small, but it's everything."

He dropped his arm. The wind and water surged, slapping the sides of the ship before Viktor and Nyomi regained control. Guided by their magic, the storm imploded, dispelling across the sea. A few seconds later, the world was calm, nothing but thick fog and waves once more.

As his crew walked away, Malek signaled for her to step forward. Lyana slid into the spot, leaning her hips against the rails and spreading her wings to catch the wind. Her view was painted in shades of gray, yet it was filled with color and possibility.

"Reach out with your magic," he whispered into her ear, breath warm against her neck as his hands came to rest on the small of her back. She hesitated and he leaned closer so his chest pressed into her wings, sturdy and sure. "Trust yourself. Let go."

She took a deep breath and gripped the rail, letting his arms hold her steady as she closed her eyes. The power was there waiting, yearning to flow free. For some reason, it made her think of Rafe. Her thoughts drifted to their stolen hours in the dark, the golden spark of her magic sinking into his skin, welcome and accepted, and the silver spark of his, new and so alluring. The magic had never terrified her when she was with him. Through his eyes, it was magnificent. Beside him, it came as naturally as breathing. Lyana imagined the hands at her waist were his, strong and defiant. She imagined the chest against her back belonged to a raven, his touch as electrifying as it was forbidden. Rafe's spirit was wild like hers, but in his arms, she'd never felt so assured, as though he were a pocket of safety within the chaos. Holding onto that feeling, Lyana let go.

The magic flowed like a swiftly moving river, surging out and showing no signs of an end. It dove beneath the sea and cut through the wind as though on wings. She felt Malek behind her, his own power calling to hers. She felt the other people on this ship like stars in the dark, their spirits bright and burning. Far away, she felt the whispers of other souls, yearning to be healed. There were no screams. Beneath her feet, the ground was still. It didn’t tremble, didn't quake. All was calm, including the magic, which settled across the world like a blanket, promising safekeeping.

When she opened her eyes, the gray was coated in gold, shimmering as though the sunlight had broken through it. But it wasn't the sun—it was her. And it was glorious.

6

Rafe

As Rafe stood at the bow of the