Wolf Spell: Shifters Bewitched #1 Tasha Black (ink book reader txt) 📖

keep her desire in check long enough to master her powerful magic for the sake of the ones she loves?

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Bear Charm

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Bear Charm (Sample)

1

Cori

Mine.

The word echoed through my head as I awoke alone in my bed.

I was trembling and heated, my cheeks flushed. The dream was evaporating too quickly, leaving behind only the memory of a muscular male body pressed to mine, and the echo of a deep roar.

No.

That last bit wasn’t fading at all.

That raw, animal growl was real. It split the air again, along with a dull pounding from somewhere far above.

My eyes went automatically to Bella’s bed, but my friend and roommate was gone now. I was on my own.

I sat up, listening hard. Maybe the dream really was just bleeding over into reality.

The castle was silent, the air strangely cold and coppery.

I closed my eyes and tried to recall the dream, but all I could remember was a pair of glowing, golden eyes, and the feel of strong arms pulling me close.

Those eyes, they reminded me of something, of someone…

There was another roar, the notes of anguish clear, even in such a primal state.

I slipped out of bed without thinking and headed into the hallway, inexplicably drawn to that sound.

My regulation nightgown flowed out behind me. Primrose Academy loved tradition. Witches in training had been wearing these billowy white nightgowns since the school was founded. Truthfully, I kind of liked it.

Once I got out into the hallway, it was clear that the sound was coming from the tower.

I reached the stout wooden door that led to the tower stairs, and paused for a moment to think. Students weren’t allowed to go up to the tower, everyone knew it. And just in case anyone forgot, a sign had appeared on the door a few days ago, reminding us of that fact.

The tower is off limits to students at all times.

- Headmistress W. Hart

Another moaning sound echoed from above.

My heart pounded, but I needed to know what it was. The sound felt like it was reverberating in sympathy with my own heart, and I had to find the source. I tried opening the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

There was only one thing to do.

Cori, no…

But I didn’t have a choice. Something was pulling me up into that dark tower, and I wasn’t about to stop until I found out what it was.

I squeezed my eyes shut and called on my power, even as I cringed at the thought of the outcome.

Things usually went wrong where my magic was involved. My friends said magic as powerful as mine was always unwieldy in the beginning. But they were just being nice, like friends are.

I knew the problem was me. I was too timid, too nice to really take control of my gift. That weakness in me sabotaged my magic every time.

At least I would need so little of it this time that it could hardly go wrong. And had been preparing as much as I could, so hopefully I wouldn’t have to pay much of a price for it.

The price of my magic was high, when I really used it. Too high to waste it on anything that wasn’t super important.

I cupped my palms and concentrated.

There was the usual tingling sensation in my hands as my magic rose to the surface, lifting its senses to take in the light.

I pushed and pulled, shaping it into what I wanted. My magic was elemental and finicky, and it stretched like taffy before finally succumbing to my will.

At last, I felt moisture in my hands and opened my eyes.

A tiny thunderstorm hovered over my open palms. The puffy gray cloud roiled and rumbled like the purr of a cat, releasing a mist of rain.

The first time I’d managed this. I had been so charmed by the storm that I tried to cuddle the little thing.

But I learned the hard way that even a palmful of lightning had a nasty bite. Hopefully, just enough to open a door.

“Okay, Misty, do your thing,” I murmured to it, holding it against the lock just above the handle.

Purple lightning flashed. The first tiny bolt headed right for me, but I managed to dodge it. I was pretty sure the little storm hated my nickname for it.

“You little rascal,” I scolded.

The second lightning strike hit the door right in the keyhole. A resounding click told me the lock was released. Thin smoke rose from the site.

“Good work,” I told the impudent little storm.

It rained down even harder on my hands so that water dripped through my fingers onto the floor.

“Okay, okay,” I told it. I was sapped anyway, there was no point holding onto it. “You can go.”

I closed my eyes and released the magic.

The tingling sensation was gone. The only traces left behind were the small puddle and the light scent of ozone.

My hand closed around the doorknob and then things went hazy.

What am I doing here?

It seemed to be the middle of the night, but I was in the hallway, in my stupid nightgown.

There was a sign on the door I was trying to open.

The tower is off limits to students at all times.

- Headmistress W. Hart

I was going to the tower?

My hand dropped the knob like it was burning.

Students weren’t allowed up in the tower, everyone knew it.

My heart pounded and I ran my hand through my hair. I must have been sleepwalking, or… I shook my head to clear it, trying desperately to remember.

The price of my magic was confusion, and short term memory loss. So I was used to having to piece things together anytime I unexpectedly used magic.

Had I been using magic? For what?

If I had come here in the middle of the night and used magic without paying for it in advance, I must be in some kind of trouble. No witch would casually pay the price for magic when her price was as high as mine