Chapter 23 23
Annabeth's POV:
Kaelen insisted we needed to train how to control my powers, which sounded way cooler in theory than it was in practice. In practice it meant me standing in the middle of a clearing in the woods after my last class, wearing old jeans I didn't care about ruining and trying not to set myself on fire. Again.
"Okay," Kaelen said from a few feet away, his arms crossed and his expression patient in that way that was starting to make me feel guilty for being so bad at this. "Try again. But this time, don't push the heat out. Just let it sit there, let yourself feel it without feeding it."
"That makes no sense."
"I know. But it works, trust me."
I closed my eyes and tried to do what he'd explained probably fifteen times already. Feel the heat that was always there now, constant and intense in the center of my chest. Acknowledge it without making it bigger. Just sit with it, just let it be.
The heat rose immediately, way faster than I wanted, spreading from my chest into my arms and up my neck. My skin prickled and I could feel sweat starting on my forehead even though it was cold out.
"Good," Kaelen said. "You're feeling it. Now hold it there. Don't let it spread, don't let it build. Just keep it steady."
I tried. I really did. But the heat had its own ideas and within about ten seconds it was crawling up my throat, making my mouth taste like metal, and my hands were getting hot, too hot, the air around my fingers starting to shimmer.
"Annabeth, pull it back—"
Too late. The bush to my left went up in flames, just whoosh, fully engulfed in fire that was way too red and way too hot for a normal fire. I yelped and stumbled backward and the heat died immediately, leaving me cold and shaky.
Kaelen put out the bush with some dirt and a jacket he'd brought for exactly this reason. When he turned back to me his expression was still patient but I could see the frustration underneath it.
"Sorry," I said.
"It's fine. That was actually better than last time, you held it longer."
"I held it for like eight seconds and then I lit a plant on fire."
"Progress is progress." He came closer, brushing ash off his jacket. "You're trying to control it too much. That's the problem. The fire doesn't respond well to force, you have to... I don't know, coexist with it."
"Coexist with the fire that wants to burn everything around me."
"Yeah. Basically."
I wanted to punch something, or maybe cry, or maybe just give up and accept that I was gonna be a walking fire hazard for the rest of my life. Instead I took a breath and said: "Okay. Show me again."
He demonstrated, closing his eyes and going still. I could see the gold starting to edge his irises even through his eyelids, could feel the temperature around him rise slightly. His skin took on this faint glow, not bright enough to be obvious but definitely there, and I watched the heat shimmer in the air around his hands.
He held it for a full minute, totally controlled, then let it fade. When he opened his eyes they were back to normal blue-green.
"It's about breathing," he said. "Your breath controls the fire, keeps it contained. Breathe in, acknowledge the heat. Breathe out, let it settle. In and out, steady, until it becomes part of your rhythm instead of something fighting you."
"I'm breathing."
"You're holding your breath, actually. Every time you try to control it you tense up and stop breathing. That makes it worse."
Oh. Was I doing that?
"Try again. And I'm gonna stand behind you this time, help you with your posture. Your balance is off and that's making it harder."
He moved behind me before I could respond and suddenly his hands were on my waist, adjusting my stance. "Feet shoulder width apart," he said, and his voice was right by my ear, low and way too close. "Weight even on both feet, not leaning forward."
I tried to focus on my stance and not on the fact that his chest was almost touching my back, that I could feel the heat coming off him matching the heat inside me. His hands moved from my waist to my shoulders, pressing down gently.
"Drop your shoulders. You're all tensed up."
"I'm trying not to burn you."
"You won't burn me. I'm fireproof, remember?" His fingers pressed into the knots in my shoulders, just enough to make me aware of how tight I was holding myself. "Relax."
Right. Relax. With him touching me and his breath on my neck and every nerve in my body aware of exactly how close he was.
I tried anyway. Dropped my shoulders, let my weight settle evenly, took a breath that didn't catch in my throat. The heat was there immediately, rising up, and his hands moved to my arms.
"Feel it coming?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Okay. Don't push it down, don't try to stop it. Just breathe through it. In, out. Steady."
I breathed. In, out. The heat climbed higher but slower this time, less urgent. His hands stayed on my arms, warm and grounding, and I focused on the rhythm of my breath instead of the panic that usually came with the fire.
In, out. The heat reached my throat and I almost lost it but his voice was there: "Keep breathing."
In, out. My hands got hot but not burning, just warm, the shimmer starting around my fingers but contained, controllable.
"Good," Kaelen said. "Hold it right there. Don't let it grow, just maintain."
I held it. Ten seconds, fifteen, twenty. My whole body felt like it was vibrating with heat but nothing was catching fire, nothing was out of control. Just me and the fire and Kaelen's hands on my arms keeping me steady.
At thirty seconds I lost my concentration and the heat spiked. The sleeve of my jacket started smoking and I jerked back, yanking it off before it could actually catch. Kaelen took it and patted out the smoldering spot, then handed it back.
"Thirty seconds," he said, and he was smiling. "That's three times longer than before."
"I almost caught myself on fire."
"But you didn't. And you held it steady for half a minute, that's real progress."
I looked at my jacket with the burned spot on the sleeve and felt that frustration well up again. "This is impossible. I'm never gonna be able to control it."
"Yes you will."
"How do you know?"
"Because I've seen you refuse to give up on things. When we first met and those guys were beating me up, you could've driven away. But you didn't, you got out of your car and helped a stranger because it was the right thing to do. That's who you are, Annabeth. Someone who doesn't quit."
The compliment hit me harder than it should've. I looked away, feeling my face heat up in a way that had nothing to do with dragon fire.
We tried again a few more times with varying levels of disaster. I managed to set a pile of dry leaves on fire, burned a hole through my other sleeve, this jacket was definitely trash now, and made Kaelen's eyebrows get singed when a burst of flame escaped without warning. He healed instantly, of course, but I still felt terrible about it.
After an hour of failures we gave up and sat on the wooden bench at the edge of the clearing. My whole body felt wrung out, exhausted in a way that wasn't quite physical. Like I'd been fighting myself for an hour and both sides lost.
"This sucks," I said.
"I know."
"I'm so bad at this."
"You're new at this. There's a difference." He stretched his legs out in front of him. "Annabeth, I've been training since I was six. Six. And I still screw up sometimes, still lose control when I'm stressed or scared or angry. You're expecting yourself to master something in a few days that took me years to get decent at."
"How long did it take you? To control your powers?"
"Honestly? Years. My mom started teaching me when I first shifted at six and I didn't have reliable control until I was maybe eleven or twelve. And even then it wasn't perfect."
That made me feel slightly better and significantly worse at the same time. "I don't have years. If the Order finds me—"
"They won't."
"But if they do, I need to be able to defend myself. I need to be useful, not just a liability that everyone has to protect."
He turned to look at me, his expression serious. "You're not a liability."
"I can barely hold my fire for thirty seconds without burning my own clothes. What am I gonna do if someone attacks me? Politely ask them to wait while I practice my breathing?"
"You're going to keep training. Keep getting better. And in the meantime, you have me." He said it simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."
"That's not fair to you."
"I don't care about fair. I care about keeping you safe."
The words settled between us, heavy with meaning I wasn't quite ready to examine. I leaned sideways and let my head rest on his shoulder, suddenly too tired to hold myself upright anymore.
He didn't move, just sat there solid and warm beside me. The woods were quiet around us except for some bird making a repetitive call that got on my nerves and the rustle of wind through bare branches.
"Thank you," I said after a while. "For being patient with me. For not giving up even though I'm terrible at this."
"You're not terrible. You're learning."
"Yeah, yeah... Same thing."
"Not even close." His arm came around me, careful and tentative like he wasn't sure if it was okay. "Learning means you're getting better every time, even if it doesn't feel like it. Terrible means you're not trying. You're definitely trying."
I smiled against his shoulder. "Is that your motivational speech?"
"Yep. That's all I got."
He kissed me very gently and then we just sat there as the afternoon light started to fade and the temperature dropped, neither of us feeling it, just comfortable in the silence and the closeness. Eventually we'd have to get up, go back to campus, pretend to be normal college students instead of dragons learning to control fire. But not yet.
For now this was enough.