Nate scoffed from the console, scrubbing a weary hand over his face, but he didn’t argue further.
“I can’t do it, Raiden,” I confessed, swiping at a stray tear that escaped down my cheek. “I can’t just turn it on. I’m broken.”
“You’re not broken,” Raiden reassured me, reaching out to gently take my hands in his. His skin was incredibly warm and rough with calluses, grounding me immediately. “Nate’s approach is wrong. He views your magic as an anomaly, but it’s not. It’s just a muscle you’ve never been taught how to flex.”
He rubbed his thumbs soothingly over my knuckles.
“Close your eyes,” he instructed.
I obeyed, trusting the solid, steady warmth of his hands.
“Don’t think about the fear,” Raiden murmured, his voice acting as an anchor in the dark. “Don’t think about Liam, or the ho
