Page 121 of A Crown of Tears and Treason

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“That confident you can do it.”

His confidence in me warmed my heart. This powerful prince thought I could be as strong as I wanted to.

It wouldn’t hurt to try it one last time.

I closed my eyes. Seeing Zandyr wouldn’t help with my concentration, not when his tunic had slipped to the side, revealing even more of his clavicle and giving me a peek at the dragon’s fangs clamping around the back of his neck.

Focus.

I imagined a pocket of power inside of me, sewn tightly shut to keep its destructive tendencies at bay. I pictured the candle right before me.

Waiting.

Taunting.

I shook my head.

None of that.

Focus.

Control.

I concentrated on the beating of my heart, which still ran wild from remembering my brush with death. Maybe I could use it to my advantage.

Each time my power had burst through, my emotions had been hectic. Fear, embarrassment, anger.

The hint of dread ghosting through me right now wasn’t real. I was removed from danger.

I was in my room with Zandyr. Safe.

I let that thought sink deeper and deeper into me. It burned away the remnants of terror, until they were nothing but distant, retreating throbs.

Each of them unraveled a strand in the pocket. The light began to glow, heating up my chest.

My fingers dug harder into the top of my thighs.

That’s it, a part of me said gleefully.Slowly. You can do this.

Maybe if I told that to myself enough times, I might actually believe it.

The tendrils slipped out. Slowly. Cautiously. Waiting to be directed.

By me.

Light the candle.

Nothing happened. The tendrils trembled, but didn’t move.

My forehead hurt from frowning so hard. Distantly, I could hear my teeth gnashing together.

I want to light the candle.

The tendrils began to move from deep inside me.

Slow. Slooooow.

The warmth slid down my arms, searching.

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