So, this was a true standoff.
My locket was singing. With an internal groan, I grabbed for the necklace and my mother’s voice whispered inside my mind.
Plant your feet, straighten your spine, and when your hand begins to burn, triple the strands of magic like I taught you. Like a rope, remember?
If things weren’t so intense, I would have laughed. My mother’s competitive strike was as wide as mine. With a nod, I released the locket.
I corrected my posture and sucked in my core, centering my body and stabilizing myself to the earth.
Tavlor met my gaze and said, “Ready? And go.”
I threw pure magic at him, a single thread of white-hot power.
Tavlor’s magic came back, travelling over my single thread so fast my fingers cramped on my wand with the strength of his power.
I hissed at the pain, but refused to give in. This was what my mother had been talking about.
I conjured two more threads and, beginning at my wand, wove them along my magic, adding strength, adding power. Slowly, I shoved Tavlor’s spell back at him.
He began to falter, his feet slipping on the wooden floor boards.
I focused harder, wanting to prove to him that I wasn’t weak.
He grabbed his wand with both hands. “How are you....?”
“Don’t hold back,” I said through gritted teeth, as sweat beaded on my forehead and my legs shivered with stress.
Damn it, he’s strong.
He grunted and pushed back.
I pulled one of my hands away from my wand and put my palm in the air, pushing against his power with as much force as I could.
Tavlor growled, his biceps bulging, his teeth exposed in a grimace.
I pushed harder than I ever had in my whole life.
Tavlor dropped his wand and my legs gave out beneath me. I lurched forward and fell to the ground.
Tavlor crawled over to me and pulled me into his arms.
We were both panting. The air around us was electric, sizzling with white magic.
He caught my gaze, and his eyes narrowed. Between breaths, he asked, words slow and deliberate, “Who the hell are you?”
Chapter 13.
When Tavlor kissed me, part of me felt like I was flying, the other part felt like I was sinking. Both parts were held together by his hands on my face.
When we finally pulled apart to breathe, he rested his forehead onto mine.
“What are you?” he asked, his voice low and in disbelief.
How did I answer that without giving everything away? As much as I liked him, I didn’t know if I could trust him. Not yet, anyway.
“I’m Ava,” I said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I already told you that.”
His face twisted up and I realized that my frank, sarcastic answer probably didn’t go down so well. He didn’t have the same humor as I did. Which was fine. I could work with what I had.