Page 50 of Discovered Magic
“You heard me?” she asked inside the confines of her mind.
“Yes.”
“How?”
His mouth curled.
“Fated mates who are miles above regular witches with the magic they possess,” he said aloud.
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, it isn’t me. I don’t have the type of power it takes. So it must be what you inherited from Castor.”
“Traveler’s child. Stands-in-Shadow calls me that.”
“Yes. Castor is a Traveler. He has—or had—the ability to move throughout his lifetime. We guessed you had a similar gift after we realized he was your biological father. Somehow you opened a portal and teleported yourself into the past.” Wilder rose but didn’t approach her. “And those gifts from the deities, they make you one badass mofo.”
“All I can do is shock people,” she replied in disgust.
He huffed out a laugh as he held up his blistered arm. “Yeah, well, it’s one helluva burn, baby.”
She cried out and rushed to him. “I’m so sorry. Wilder.”
“None of that, okay? You’ve been through too much to apologize for an accident.”
How he could be calm and sweet to her after she’d hurt him was a mystery.
“You spoke of healing before. Is repairing the damage something I can do?”
“Do you want to try?”
His eyes were dull with the pain he felt, and Abbie wanted them to be bright, filled with love, as they were before. She nodded, willing to do whatever it took to soothe the angry skin and rid him of his suffering.
“Okay.” When they were seated on the bed, he held out his arm. “You were never squeamish before, but there might be a first time for everything. So stay as focused as you can and place your palm over the wound.”
She grimaced but nodded, then fought the urge to pull back when he sucked air through his teeth.
“Good,” he grunted. “Visualize healthy skin, like this.” He pointed to his uninjured forearm. “Pull from a cellular level, where you felt the warming as you tried to teleport.”
She considered how her body heated when the need to escape threatened, and broke it down, tracing the source.
“Good! Yes! The nucleus of your cells is where magic lives. It’s the control center, and branches out through threads to the membrane. From there, you can push it to your extremities, and in this case, your hand. Visualize the blisters smoothing out and the skin returning to normal.”
“This seems advanced. Should I get Draven?”
“Try. If you can’t repair the damage, we’ll get him.”
A sharp rap sounded.
“It’s Jonas,” came a muffled voice.
Wilder cursed himself for not locking up earlier when Draven encouraged it, but he wouldn’t deny the man entry. “Come in.”
The sheriff entered, followed by a woman Wilder would recognize anywhere. Her portrait hung in his father’s home.
“Evie,” he whispered. Never in a million years would he have expected to see his great-great-grandmother step through the door.
17
