Page 4 of Twisted Gift

I chew my bottom lip for a second. “I think so? How hard is this going to be?”

“You’re smart. I’m sure you’ll pick it up in no time. It’s one of the easier things to teach.”

“That’s good to know.”

She laughs. “You’ll need to visualize your emotions. What makes it easier for me is to associate a specific color for each different emotion you’re feeling. Love is red. Blue is sadness. Green is concern or worry—you get the idea.”

I nod. “Seems simple enough.” I run through what she said and close my eyes, trying to picture each emotion I’m feeling as a burst of color radiating from my chest. Right now, it’s uncertainty, which I’ve come to see as a muddied brown, and fear, which is orange. “Can you see it?” I ask her.

“Yes.”

“I get the color thing. How do I make it disappear?”

“This is where it gets tricky.”

“Uh, okay. What do I do?”

“We all do it differently. I visualize myself wrapping those colors up in a blanket.”

“That’s . . . okay.” I try that and check with Allison. She can still see it.

We go back and forth for almost an hour. She suggests different ways of blocking what I’m experiencing, but nothing sticks. She lets her emotions show for a minute, and I watch her process of blocking them. Even when she verbalizes what she’s doing as she’s doing it, I can’t pick up her technique.

I ball my hands into fists so I don’t lash out and hit something in frustration.

Allison gives me a sympathetic look. “Keep trying. No giving up.”

I groan. “A-plus pep talk, coach.”

She grins. “Thank you. I’ve been thinking of becoming a motivational speaker.”

I crack a smile. “Don’t count on it.”

She whistles. “Ouch. C’mon. Do it again.”

With a deep breath, I try something else. Instead of trying to cover up what I’m feeling, I try to pull it into myself. I picture myself grabbing the orbs of color in my fists and pulling on them, yanking them out of sight and inside my chest. It’s painful in the weirdest way. It’s almost like an anxiety attack where I’m feeling everything too strongly, all at once, but there’s something different about it. I’m controlling it. It’s not something I don’t understand, and knowing I can make it stop when I want to makes it bearable.

“I don’t know what you’re doing, but I can’t see anything. Usually, with most fae, even when they’re blocking their emotions, you can still see a remnant. A dusting of color. But with you, there’s nothing. It’s a solid wall of nothingness. It’s kind of scary, actually.”

I exhale. “I did it?”

She smiles. “You did it. I wish I could say the rest of what you’ll encounter as a fae will be this easy to overcome, but this is about the easiest thing to get a handle on. So, what’s next? Shifting? Mental manipulation?”

“I think that’s enough for one night,” I say with a sigh. As for the shifting—it was something I found creepy as hell as a human. It’s not something Iwantto learn how to do, at least not now. “Thank you for showing me the shielding thing. Now, I don’t have to worry about the fae being able to see my emotional meltdowns.”

She nods. “I’m glad you’re finally letting me help you.”

I look away, clenching my jaw as shame settles over me like a weighted blanket. “I’m sorry, I just—”

“You don’t need to apologize. Like I said, I’m happy you’re letting me help now.” She presses her lips together as if there’s something more she wants to say.

“What?” I prompt her.

“Why are you willing to let me help you with this, but you avoid Tristan at all costs? It can’t be because he’s dark fae because so am I, and last time I checked, you didn’t care about that. So what’s the deal?”

My brows inch closer, and I chew my bottom lip. It’s a fair question. The logic behind it is sound. It probably seems messed up that I don’t have a problem with Allison even though my reason for avoiding Tristan could very well be the same for her.

“Because,” I say, “I’m not in love with Tristan. I care about him a lot, yes, and I’mfallingfor him, but when I found out Jules had messed with my life, I wasn’tinlove with him. I can give myself time to figure my shit out when it comes to him.”

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