that Sunday when Derek had come back and agreed to train me to use my powers. I spent my days at school and my evenings with him, usually in the woods. He said it was the most like what I’d find over there—dark, cold, harsh, unstable.
We still hadn’t been able to find out what Fahl really wanted with me, so Derek trained me based on the assumption that I would be fighting my twin, as he had done. I could tell he was convinced there was much more to it than that, though. When I asked, he’d say things like it’s a lot of little things, very casually, though his attitude was anything but casual.
And there was another thing. Things that seemed insignificant to me would trouble him deeply. Like the fact that, even though I’d learned to control my power, I still felt an incredible thirst when I wielded. According to Derek, my thirst should only be present when my powers are out of control. And that was just one of the things that differed from his experience. There were more.
Another was the strength of my powers. It nearly rivaled Derek’s, though I doubted I’d ever be a match for him. He was incredibly intuitive and strong, defeating me often in our sparring, despite his lack of experience with wielding earth.
Once I even created a small earthquake that caused the ground to open up and swallow him. I’d been prepared with some vines to make sure I could haul him out, but I’d underestimated his speed. He’d managed to grab onto some tree roots as he fell. He climbed out and surprised me with a fireball that singed the hair on my arms.
“Always make sure you’ve finished the job,” he lectured as he approached. “Don’t turn your back on an opponent until you confirm, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that they are dead.”
“I know, I know,” I moaned, rubbing the scorched, curling hairs off my arms.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Concern creased his brow and drew his eyebrows together as he took my hands in his to examine my arms.
As always, any contact with him sent a bolt of lightening straight to my core. “No, you didn’t hurt me,” I said breathlessly.
He was so close I could smell his scent over the odor of burnt hair. His eyes rose to mine and sparks flew. Immediately, I felt the tension in him, his reaction to our nearness rivaling mine.
Often, I think his desire for me surprised us both, as did his intense response to it. Like now. His hand shot out, faster than a snake could strike, and grabbed me at the nape of my neck, pulling me forward until our lips met.
The kiss was instantly passionate, burning as hot and out of control as some of my fires. Only Derek couldn’t use water to put out these flames. It was only his self-control and determination to leave my purity in tact that kept our make-out sessions from escalating, though a couple had progressed to a dangerous point.
His tongue delved into my mouth and I slid my hands into his hair to hold his lips to mine. I stretched up on tiptoe, pressing my body to his, craving the contact.
His hand left my neck and, a second later, I felt both his palms at my hips. They moved down to knead my butt before traveling lower, to the tops of my thighs. I felt his fingers tighten, digging into my flesh, and he lifted.
Automatically, my legs wrapped around his waist. The contact of our bodies in such an intimate way was nearly more than I could bear. I tightened my legs around him, desperate for him to do something, anything to end the sweet torture. Derek moaned and a wave of chills rolled down my back.
I tore my mouth from his, gasping for air, my body on fire. I felt his teeth nip at my lower lip and my chin then I felt his hot breath at my ear. I wiggled against him, needing more than what he was giving me.
For an instant, his tongue slipped inside my ear before it blazed a hot trail down my neck to my collarbone. I felt one hand come up to press between my shoulder blades, forcing my body toward his mouth. The action pushed my breasts against his chest, my nipples tightening and tingling in response.
Liquid heat poured through my body and pooled in my core, threatening to explode, the