“Where are we going?” Brea jogged to catch up with Lochlan’s long stride.
“The orchard. No one will bother us there.”
“Ohh, let’s go visit the ponies.” Brea skipped ahead of him along the dirt path.
“Focus, Brea. This is important. You can go visit your ponies after training.
“You’re no fun, Douchey Loch.”
“I feel that word is more of an insult than you’ve led me to believe.”
“I promise, among humans it is a great compliment. You might not be much fun, but I greatly appreciate your dedication to my training, oh great douchey one.” She could barely keep a straight face, but the way his shoulders drew back and his big head swelled even more, he bought it. He made it too easy sometimes.
“It is my pleasure to help you, Brea.”
She really wasn’t looking forward to this. Her magic scared her. It was too unpredictable, and Lochlan was about to push her into using her magic on purpose.
Lochlan ignored her, coming to stop among the massive fire-nut trees. She’d recently learned the Brazil-nut-like trees had started to smolder and burn as the fire-nut pods began to ripen. In the coming weeks, the pods would burn away, leaving just the seeds behind.
“It’s cooler in the courtyard.” Brea fanned her face with her hands. The sun was just beginning to meet the horizon, but it was still hotter than Death Valley up there without the breezes that rushed through the canyon.
“Do you really want an audience to see you try to hone your magic?” Lochlan smirked at her.
“No, not particularly.” She leaned against a tree trunk and yelped, jumping away from the hot surface.
“There’s a reason they call them fire-trees.”
“Noted.” Brea brushed at her back to make sure she hadn’t singed her clothes. “So how does this work when I have zero control over my magic?”
“That is lesson number one.” Lochlan stood across the clearing from her. “You don’t control the magic. Forget everything you think you know about magic. It’s all human nonsense.”
“Okay, so how do I make it do what I want?”
“Your magic is linked to your emotions. You will learn to guide your magic by controlling your emotions, which is not going to be easy for you.”
“Why me specifically?” He was already irritating her with his know-it-all attitude, like she should just know this stuff when no one had ever bothered to teach her.
“Humans let their emotions rule them. It’s their biggest fault and our biggest challenge to break you of their bad habits.”
“Well, I’m sorry.” Brea crossed her arms over her chest. “We can’t all be emotionless robots like the great douchey Lochlan O’Shea.” Magic sizzled at her fingertips, itching to get out.
“Control your anger, Brea.” Lochlan circled her. “Feel it. Experience the emotion. But don’t let it rule your actions.”
“And exactly how am I supposed to do that?” She could feel the difference in her magic now. Before, it was always a flash of awareness, a tingle just beneath her skin. This was more. This was big.
“Take a deep breath.” Lochlan stood in front of her. “Close your eyes and focus.” He moved in even closer to whisper in her ear. “And admit you find me handsome.”
“What?” Brea’s eyes snapped open, and the magic blazed hot within her, like a fire. For the first time, she realized that was probably why they called Eldur the fire realm. It wasn’t about the hot temperatures, desert terrain, or even the fire plains and the dormant volcano. It was the fire that burned within its people.
“Admit it.” Lochlan moved to sit on the ground, lounging back like they were at a picnic.
“You’re infuriating. I’ll admit that.” Brea’s head throbbed with the heat of her magic.
“Focus, Brea. Control the emotion. Your magic is linked with your anger. It’s different for everyone. Different emotions drive our magic. Some more than others. I’m not sure anger is the right emotion, but your magic responds to it quickly … and it’s more fun for me.” He propped up on his elbow.
“You’re a jerk.” A burst of energy left her body, slamming into the tree trunk behind Lochlan. An avalanche of smoking fire-pods rained down on his head, bouncing like coconuts off his skull.
Lochlan cursed, slapping a hand over his head where his blond hair singed.
“You’re right, this is fun.” Brea sat down pretzel style in the thick green grass, dragging one of the pods closer to her. “Thanks for the snack.” She cracked open the pod and shook out the warm toasted nuts.
“They aren’t ripe yet.” Lochlan massaged his head.
“Tastes good to me.” Brea popped another nut in her mouth.
“Yeah, they do, but they’ll give you rancid bad breath for days when they aren’t ripe.”
“Of course.” Brea dropped the pod, already tired of this game.
“When you’ve felt your magic before, what other emotion really seems to respond? And be honest. Remember, I am trying to help you.”
Brea knew the answer, but she didn’t want to tell him.
“I don’t know, anger seems to work pretty well.” Brea got to her feet. “Why don’t we try that one again since you’re so good at pissing me off.”
“But you aren’t capable of reeling that emotion back in. We should try something else.” Lochlan rose to stand in front of her. “We need to find something easier to work with now, and then we can work up to anger. That’s always the hardest emotion to control.”
“Fine.” Brea took a step back. “Fear. It always gets me.”
“We can work with fear.” Lochlan nodded, pacing back across the clearing. “Is it fear in general or more like fear for your life?”
“Fear in general usually has the magic buzzing under my skin pretty quickly. It’s a little different than anger. It’s intense, but not as … sharp. Anger is more of a quick flash.”
“Fear holds more promise,” Lochlan said. “What do you fear the most?”
“Do you really have to ask?” Brea shot him a glare.
“Myles. Right.”
“And don’t you dare think of using him as some sort of training tool.”
“You really do think the worst of me, don’t you?”
“The fire-nut doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“I am not my brother. Or my uncle. And neither of them is half the man my father was.” Lochlan took a step toward her. “I wouldn’t dare use your best friend just to push your magic to the surface. I know what he means to you.”
“You couldn’t possibly know.”
“Right, I don’t know what it’s like to lose the most important fae in my life.” He gave her words from the previous night right back to her. “Alona is my Myles, Brea. Trust me, I know.”
“And we’re back at anger.” The sharp edge of her magic prickled under her skin, and she tried to control the emotion, but it was like trying to catch smoke.
“Look at me, Brea.” His voice sounded in her ear, and she looked up into his dark blue eyes. His arm slid around her waist, and he pulled her close. “We’re working on fear,” he reminded her as his mouth claimed hers. The warm kiss was brief, but it did the job. Fear pulsed in her veins, and her magic bubbled up to the surface like a pot boiling over.
Brea gasped as she stepped back and her palm—flashing with the yellow light of her magic—struck his face.
“Lochlan!” He went down like a dead weight.
“Yes. Fear is definitely the right emotion.” He groaned as he rolled over in the grass, her bright red palm print on his face. “Take a few deep breaths and focus on the reason for your fear. Try to contain it. Understand it. You can control it better when you understand the source of the emotion.”
Lochlan just kissed her. It ignited her anger, but more than that, it terrified her. Why? Her magic continued to simmer, and yellow sparks danced around her fingertips. The heat of her magic surprised her, but she was part Eldur—part fire itself, or so it seemed.
“Why does my kiss frighten you?” Lochlan pushed her to explore the emotion.
“I don’t know. It was a shock.” She brushed her still-tingling lips. She could almost taste his magic—like cinnamon and cloves. Warm and spicy. A second wave of fear spread through her, heightening her magic and fanning the flames.
“Do you truly fear me?” Lochlan sounded almost hurt by the idea.
“No I—” But she did. At least on some level. She didn’t believe for a second that he would intentionally hurt her. “I trusted your brother and look where that got me.” The magic moved from just under her skin to deep within her core, simmering there, waiting for her guidance.
Lochlan approached her, taking her hands in his. “For the last time, Brea Robinson, I am not my brother.”
“You make me nervous.” Brea pulled away from his grasp. “That’s all.” She didn’t like the honesty of her words. She knew in her heart that Lochlan was nothing like Griff.
“I think you fear what Finn would say if he knew I kissed you.”
“Uh, confusion much? That’s the emotion I’m feeling right now. What are you even talking about?”
“You like Finn.”
“Sure, we’re friends. Besides, from what I hear, you’re the one who likes Finn that way.” Her nerves spiked at that admission. Her chest ached with the intensity of her magic as it seeped into her palms.
“That was ages ago.”
“How long were you boyfriends?”
“Such a human thing to say.” He chuckled.
“We’re heading back toward anger and irritation again.”
“We weren’t exactly together. We were just boys. We cared a great deal for each other—still do—and we experimented with those feelings. He was my first kiss. Kind of like yours with Myles.”
“Wait, what?” How did he know anything about her first kiss?
“Well, I just assumed.” Lochlan refused to meet her gaze.
“But how did you know my first kiss was an experiment?” She was nearly fourteen when it happened. She and Myles were out riding his horses and stopped at their favorite spot where their farms met along a babbling brook right beside the tree they always said was theirs. That was the day they decided they wanted to know what all the fuss was about. So they shared a kiss. It was sweet and one of her favorite memories of Myles, but it was also the day they both knew they were a hundred percent just friends.
“Lochlan O’Shea, how long have you been watching me?”
“Years.” He turned to meet her gaze, his face revealing nothing.
“Years?”
“At first it was for your mothers. They wanted to know how you were doing. I was fifteen the first time I visited you. You were just a kid then. But you were always with Myles. Your relationship then reminded me of what I’d never had with Griff. It made me miss him.”
“And then, what? You kept spying on me?”
“Not spying.” He finally met her eyes. “Never spying. I was watching over you, making sure you were safe. Making sure your mothers had news of you—that they could get to know you through me.”
“How often?”
“Every few months. Since you were eleven. I mostly saw you at school or just after. I was fascinated with the human education system.”
“You watched me for seven years? And you saw our first kiss? Our only kiss?”
“It was then that I realized your relationship with Myles no longer reminded me of what I didn’t have with Griff, but what I’d found with Finn. Our first kiss was similar. Just an experiment between the best of friends. Innocent, but no less important.”
She should be mad. She should be furious. Brea wiped away the scalding hot tear trailing down her face. Her magic still churned inside her, waiting for an outlet.
“I know you better than you think I do, Brea. You’re strong. Look at you. It’s your first day, and already you’re holding your magic like a natural.”
“It’s night.” Darkness had fallen around them, and the orchard glowed under the simmering light of the branches. “Is this normal?” She needed to focus on the lesson and not on the violation of her privacy Lochlan just admitted to. He might not call it spying, but she did.
“No, but you are not normal, Brea. I’ve suspected it for a long time, but now I know for certain. Please come sit with me.” He sank to the ground, patting the grass beside him. Brea reluctantly joined him.
“I’m not happy about this news. Just so you know.”
“We have bigger things to discuss. It is nightfall, and you still hold your magic. I need to know how it feels. Is it as strong as it was before sunset?”
“No, it has calmed. It’s because I dealt with the emotions, right?”
“Partly. Though the moment my magic surfaced at nightfall, yours should have vanished.”
“What does that mean?”
“We know your father was of Fargelsi. A royal.”
“Regan’s brother.”
“Did you know he was the rightful king of Gelsi before Regan killed him?”
Brea took a deep breath, the magic still churning in her core, but the heat had cooled in the absence of the sun. “No. I did not know that. It seems there will never be an end to the things people keep from me.”
“Most fae in your circumstance would take after their mother’s magic. As far as your magic is concerned, you should be Eldurian. But you have your father’s magic too.”
“I have Eldur magic during the day and Gelsi at night?”
“No. I think you have both at the same time. During the day, your fire magic is present, but it is bolstered by your earth magic, making you incredibly strong.”
“Great. So now I’m a magic freak?”
“You’re also a royal, whether you like it or not. I know that is not something you’re willing to recognize yet.
“My mother is a queen. My crazy aunt is a queen. I am not.”
“Royal bloodlines are strong. And you have two of the strongest coursing through your veins.”
“So I’m an extra-supersized fae freak?”
Lochlan ignored her. “Between your dual magic, your father’s royal blood, and your mothers, you are likely the most powerful fae our world has ever seen. If that ever becomes common knowledge, our people will look to you as a savior. And our enemies…” He didn’t need to finish that sentence because they both knew.
~~~