Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 65167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I open my eyes, focusing solely on moving the gray rock.
Palm outstretched once more, I focus. Concentrate.
Rise.
I hold back surprise when it wobbles.
Must continue focusing. Can’t let it stop.
I harness the love inside me, continue my journey. For that’s what this is. A journey. A continuation of finding my role in this world.
Rise.
Rise.
Rise.
The stone wobbles again, and this time it rises from the ground, like a baby bird taking its first flight.
Pride fills me, but I tamp it down.
Must concentrate.
Rise.
Rise.
Rise.
Come to me.
A moment later, the stone sits in my outstretched hand.
I let out a breath, finally relaxing my concentration.
“See?” Elara smiles. “You’re learning. Now, let go of it and keep it suspended. Still your mind. Control isn’t about force. It’s about harmony—harmony with everything around you. The air, the flora, the fauna. Everything is connected. Harmony.”
Harmony, I say in my mind as I focus once more.
Rise.
Rise.
Rise.
The stone wobbles in my palm and then hovers above my flesh. I drop my arm to my side, never moving my gaze—my concentration—from the object.
I can’t help a small smile.
“Hannah”—Alara’s voice is stern—“be proud of your accomplishment, but don’t let euphoria cloud your concentration.”
I nod slightly, swallowing down the pride that threatens to mar my focus.
The stone stays aloft.
“Control is a delicate balance,” Alara says. “Too much, and you break. Too little, and you will unravel.”
“Balance,” I say softly.
The small stone wobbles in the air. I focus. This is like a dance on the edge of a blade. Like a tightrope. Both exhilarating and terrifying.
“Balance requires embracing both parts of your dual nature,” Alara continues. “Your human half can easily fall prey to emotion. Don’t let it. Use that emotion and the power it gives you to help you conquer the power of your vampire half. Embrace everything about who you are, Hannah, and you will find power you never dreamed possible.”
Her reminder of my vampire roots causes the craving for blood to nibble at my consciousness. Rather than pushing it away, I let it in, force it toward the hovering stone.
“Remember,” she says, her voice hypnotic, “resisting urges and desires is crucial. Make those desires work for you. That’s as crucial as wielding power. Push back against that which threatens to break your focus. Use it as a wall. A defense. Your will is your shield.”
I swallow down the lust for blood, but I don’t try to deny it. No longer will I deny who and what I am. I’ll embrace it. Embrace it as I embrace the child inside me.
I will love myself—both parts of myself.
I will love myself and my child more than Rogan ever could.
The stone wobbles in midair at my thought of Rogan.
I steady it with my mind. Rogan. He won’t break me.
I will be unbreakable.
“Excellent.” Alara’s voice is laced with pride. “Lower it now. Slowly. Let it rest on the ground.”
With my eyes, I focus the strength inside me, watching as the stone falls as if in slow motion back to the ground.
I turn to Alara. “Now what?”
“Now you reflect.”
“On…?”
“On what you’ve accomplished, of course. How do you feel?”
“Exhausted, to be honest.”
“Good. It is exhausting to wield such power, but that will wane in time. Rest for a few moments. Gather your thoughts.”
“And then what?”
“What do you think, Hannah? Then, you will do it again.”
42
Again?
Has Alara gone bananas?
Lifting that stone just once took every ounce of strength I possess. Sweat beads on my forehead. My muscles are weak. My mind fatigued.
“I’ll need more than a few minutes to recuperate,” I tell her.
“You won’t. You will endure.”
“But, Alara—”
“Stop!” She holds up a hand and her violet eyes light with fire. “Have you forgotten?”
“Have I forgotten what?” I ask.
“The wolf father of your child is with his true mate, Hannah. His true mate. But don’t forget that his mate is not who she seems to be.”
I drop my jaw.
I’ve been so focused on losing Rogan, taking care of my unborn son, and listening to Alara that something slipped to the recesses of my mind.
“The two vamps,” I say softly. “She… She cut out their hearts. Mutilated them.”
“She did.”
“Why?” I ask, more to the universe than to Alara or anyone else. “They were already dead. Rogan admitted to killing them. He thought he had to do it to protect members of his pack. And to protect me. Or his mate, who he didn’t know at the time. Who he then thought was me. But it isn’t.”
To think I questioned myself only weeks ago. Thought my demon stepfather might have some kind of psychokinetic control over me.
How could I have ever doubted myself?
“Self-doubt is natural,” Alara says.
“Would you please stop doing that?” I demand.
“It’s simple intuition,” she says. “You know I can’t read your mind. I’ve told you I’m not clairvoyant.”
“I’m not so sure,” I mumble.
I rub at my forehead, trying to ease the thoughts racing into my mind.