Page 178 of Carousel

I rage so hard and fast it’s a wonder the water doesn’t simmer.

“It’s not for you to believe.”

“We did powerful things last night. We ran circles around guards. Communicated through your dream. Powerful things. Did you not enjoy them?”

“N-no,” I say, then mentally kick myself, looking up at the metallic ceiling. Why, Sisters, did you let me stammer?

“You want what I want. You want what was promised to you. Otherwise the pain, the suffering, for years, will have meant nothing.”

“I don’t want power.”

“I believe – I have reason to believe – you have always wanted it. And a poor, magicless boy from your village won’t give you that.”

“No,” I say again, firmer this time – the way I should have said it before. And then a new wave of understanding hits me. “This is Meg’s influence, isn’t it? She told you to get in my head. And that’s what you’re doing.”

I actually laugh. It’s a crazed sound.

But it gives me strength.

This man in front of me, this man I had thought was my friend…

He’s just like everyone else.

Just like fate.

He’s trying to take everything from me.

A voice that sounds distantly like mine calls out to me like a siren’s song from the back of my mind.

You’re stronger than him right now.

You could look into his eyes. Ask him, sweetly, to slip under the water and stay there. Even while his lungs fill.

Drake is rigid. His face is composed as always, but his eyes tell me a different story. They’re caving. Like he’s only now realised I wasn’t a castle in the distance.

I was a ruin.

And my ghosts will smother him.

I can feel my magic wrapping around me. Darkening me.

“Do it.” He encourages me, softly. His eyes are more black than deepest brown right now. They’re perfectly level with mine.

My magic wavers.

“Do what?”

“Hurt me. I can feel, through the bond, how much you want to.”

“Really,” I say, my skin writhing. I wish I could rip it right off me.

He’s motionless. “Show me what you can do without me.”

I shouldn’t entertain this.

I know that.

But the magic is taking over. My back is arching. My hands are behind me, flat against the tub. The bubbles around me are dissipating, like even they can’t stand to be near me. The short distance between us seems to shrink further. I can see every droplet of water on his smooth, tanned skin.