Learning to Burn
1242 Words
“Again.”
Kael’s voice was calm. Controlled.
Annoyingly steady.
I exhaled sharply, flexing my fingers as I stared at the empty space in front of me.
“This isn’t working.”
“It is.”
“No, it’s not,” I snapped, turning to him. “Nothing is happening.”
“That’s because you’re thinking.”
I blinked. “What?”
“You’re trying to force it.”
My frustration flared instantly. “Then what am I supposed to do? Just stand here and hope something explodes again?”
His gaze didn’t shift. “Stop trying to control it.”
I stared at him. “That makes zero sense.”
“It will.”
Of course it would.
Eventually.
I paced the room, dragging a hand through my hair. The space was too open, too quiet—like it was waiting for something I couldn’t give.
“I almost destroyed your court,” I muttered. “And now you’re telling me to relax?”
“You didn’t destroy anything.”
“I cracked the floor.”
“Barely.”
“That’s not the point.”
“No,” he said. “It isn’t.”
I stopped pacing, turning back to him.
“Then what is?”
His eyes held mine.
“You didn’t mean to.”
The words hit differently than I expected.
Not judgment.
Not blame.
Just truth.
“And that matters because…?”
“Because it means you don’t understand it yet.”
“I already know that.”
“No,” he said quietly. “You don’t.”
My jaw tightened. “I’m getting really tired of you talking like that.”
“And I’m getting tired of you resisting.”
I froze.
“I’m not resisting.”
“You are.”
“How?”
“You’re afraid of it.”
My breath caught.
“That’s not—”
“It is.”
His voice dropped slightly.
“You felt it when it surged through you.”
My chest tightened.
Because yeah—
I had.
The power. The rush. The way everything bent around me like I was at the center of it.
It hadn’t just scared me.
It had shaken me.
“I’m not afraid,” I said.
A lie.
A quiet one.
But still a lie.
Kael stepped closer.
Too close.
“You are,” he said softly. “And until you stop being afraid of it… it will keep controlling you.”
The air shifted between us.
Subtle.
But real.
That pull again.
Stronger now.
I swallowed.
“Then what do I do?”
For once—
I wasn’t arguing.
I was asking.
“Feel it,” he said.
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“It’s the only way.”
I exhaled slowly and closed my eyes.
Fine.
Feel it.
At first—nothing.
Just my breathing.
My pulse.
Then—
A flicker.
Faint.
Warm.
Like something beneath my skin had just stirred.
I stilled.
Focused.
There.
Again.
A quiet heat, low in my chest, spreading slowly outward.
“What is that?” I whispered.
“Don’t force it,” Kael said quietly. “Follow it.”
Follow it.
Right.
Easy.
Except—
The moment I tried to hold onto it—
It slipped.
Gone.
My eyes snapped open.
Frustration hit hard.
“It disappeared.”
“It didn’t.”
“Yes, it did.”
“You chased it.”
I stared at him. “What does that even mean?”
“It means you tried to control it again.”
My hands clenched. “This is impossible.”
“No,” he replied. “It’s unfamiliar.”
“That’s not better.”
“It is.”
I turned away again, pacing.
“I don’t have time to figure this out slowly.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
Of course I didn’t.
I stopped.
“Then help me.”
“I am.”
“No,” I said firmly. “You’re watching me struggle.”
“You need to struggle.”
“That’s not helping!”
“It is.”
“How?”
“Because if you don’t learn it this way,” he said quietly, “you won’t learn it at all.”
Silence fell.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Before I could respond—
The door opened.
I didn’t need to look.
I felt him.
That pull.
Different from Kael’s.
Wilder.
Sharper.
My breath caught as I turned.
Golden eyes met mine instantly.
He stepped in like he belonged there.
Like no one could stop him.
“You’re wasting her time.”
Kael didn’t turn. “Leave.”
“No.”
The word hit just as hard.
I sighed. “Here we go again.”
The wolf’s gaze stayed on me.
“He’s teaching you the wrong way.”
I crossed my arms. “And you know the right way?”
“Yes.”
Kael finally turned, slow and deliberate.
“You don’t.”
“I do,” the wolf replied. “Because she’s not like you.”
Silence snapped tight.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
Neither answered.
Of course.
The wolf stepped closer.
Ignoring Kael.
“Don’t think,” he said.
I blinked. “That’s literally what he just said.”
“No,” he replied. “He told you to feel it.”
“That’s the same thing.”
“It’s not.”
I frowned. “Then explain it.”
He didn’t hesitate.
“Stop holding back.”
My breath caught.
“What?”
“You’re not losing it,” he continued. “You’re suppressing it.”
My chest tightened.
“That’s not—”
“It is,” he said firmly. “You feel it, then you pull away.”
Because it scares me.
I didn’t say it.
Didn’t need to.
He saw it anyway.
“You don’t trust it.”
The words hit harder than anything else.
Because that part—
Was true.
“Why would I?” I asked quietly. “Look what it’s already done.”
“It’s not what it’s done,” he said. “It’s what you did with it.”
My pulse spiked.
“That wasn’t on purpose.”
“I know.”
His voice softened slightly.
“But it wasn’t nothing either.”
The room stilled again.
Different this time.
Not tense.
Something else.
I looked between them.
At control.
At instinct.
At two completely different ways of dealing with the same thing.
And suddenly—
I understood.
Neither of them was wrong.
And that was the problem.
Because it meant—
This was on me.
I closed my eyes again.
Took a slow breath.
This time—
I didn’t chase it.
Didn’t force it.
Didn’t pull away.
I just… let it come.
The warmth returned.
Faster.
Stronger.
Spreading through me like it had been waiting.
My fingers tingled.
The air shifted.
Subtle.
But real.
My breathing steadied.
And this time—
I didn’t lose it.
I held it.
Not perfectly.
Not fully.
But enough.
My eyes opened slowly.
Everything felt sharper.
Clearer.
Different.
Kael was watching me.
Carefully.
The wolf—
He looked satisfied.
Like he knew this would happen.
“You see?” he said quietly.
I swallowed.
“Yeah.”
Because something had changed.
Not outside.
Inside.
And whatever this was—
It wasn’t just power anymore.
It was becoming something else.
Something I was only just starting to understand.
- Writer
