POV: Daciana
The magic had been trying to claw its way out of Daciana for three days.
She felt it during training, sparks dancing across her fingertips when she blocked a punch, heat building in her chest when adrenaline spiked. Each time, she shoved it down, terrified of what it meant, terrified of being different, being more than just a warrior.
Her former mate had made sure she knew that more meant dangerous. That power in a female was something to be suppressed, controlled, beaten out if necessary.
But the magic didn't care about her fear. It wanted out.
She was sparring with Thomas when it finally broke free.
He came at her with a training sword, the blow aimed carefully at her shoulder, hard enough to test her defense but not to injure. Daciana moved to block, and suddenly the air around her ignited.
