Winter Fire (#3, Witchling Series)

By Lizzy Ford

A beautiful fire witchling with a dangerous secret ...

A race to save the Light from permanent Darkness ...

A Dark threat unites with an ancient evil ...

If the Master of Light, Beck, has learned anything over the past few months, it’s never to trust a pretty girl – or his own judgment, the source of several messes he’s working hard to right. He saved his brother and girlfriend from Darkness but faults himself for not protecting them in the first place, like he’s sworn to. The Light is receding again, and his earth magick warns him that an ancient danger has re-emerged in the hands of a beautiful, conflicted girl who’s caught between Light and Dark. Drawn to her beauty and gentle heart, Beck is astonished to learn her magick will do more than set his blood on fire. Like his twin, the Master of Dark, Beck has a counterbalance, a woman who can help him protect the Light – if she doesn’t fall to the Dark like the fire witchlings before her.

Hurt too often by bullies in her own life, Morgan tries to protect those around her from similar pain. She and her brother arrive at the boarding school in the Rocky Mountains, only for Morgan to make enemies instantly with Dawn, the Dark witchling who tried to kill Summer twice. But Morgan is hiding something, a source of ancient evil, known as a soul stone, passed down through a thousand years of fire witchlings. Fire repels the coldness of the Dark, and only fire witchlings can safeguard the stone. Taking it into the middle of the source of Light awakens its powers. It finds an ally in Dawn and teaches the Dark witchling how to evade and seek her revenge upon the Masters of Light and Dark.

Morgan grabs the soul stone and runs, only to entangle Summer and Biji in her desperate attempt to protect Beck. Hidden from the Masters of Light and Dark, they must find a way to escape Dawn with their lives – and souls.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lizzy Ford
• Release date: Feb 3, 2017
• ISBN: 9781623783099

Lizzy Ford

I breathe stories. I dream them. If it were possible, I'd eat them, too. (I'm pretty sure they'd taste like cotton candy.) I can't escape them - they're everywhere! Which is why I write! I was born to bring the crazy worlds and people in my mind to life, and I love sharing them with as many people as I can.I'm also the bestselling, award winning, internationally acclaimed author of over sixty ... eighty ... ninety titles and counting. I write speculative fiction in multiple subgenres of romance and fantasy, contemporary fiction, books for both teens and adults, and just about anything else I feel like writing. If I can imagine it, I can write it!I live in the desert of southern Arizona with two dogs and two cats!My books can be found in every major ereader library, to include: Amazon, Barnes and Noble, iBooks, Kobo, Sony and Smashwords.

Book preview

1

Beck Turner , the Master of Light, stretched out on his bed to sleep. He gazed into the darkness of his room. At some point, he assumed he’d be tired enough to fall asleep.

So far, that wasn’t the case. He hadn’t slept in several nights. It was his first night back at the school after three weeks of hell: lawyers, police, grieving parents, and disappearing Light.

The death of the girl he started dating had resulted in an in-depth investigation where he was the primary suspect. After all, he was the one to find her and the one whose fingerprints were on her necklace. The police assumed he was a jealous, angry or abusive boyfriend who went too far.

It was hard to explain how he found her when there was no evidence leading him to her and how he knew who did it. He saw Tanya’s memories in the magick lingering in her amulet. In no court on the planet would the it-was-magick argument hold up.

His phone vibrated. He checked it, expecting the message to be from Dawn, the ex-girlfriend he knocked up. His guess was right, but there were too many curse words for it to be a message worth reading. He locked his phone, smile fading.

On a weekend, there was no calling the legal team his father hired to start a custody battle for their unborn child. Beck rose. He’d never sleep at this rate. Pulling on his clothes, he left the dorm room. The Square – the common area behind the school where students gathered for outdoor classes and bonfires – was silent. Snow glistened under a bright moon. Pine trees were heavy with white frosting while the depths of the forest appeared even darker in contrast with the snow.

He loved the forest. It was the only place he felt peace.

Leaving the Square, Beck walked down a familiar path into the forest. His earth magick swept snow from his path in whichever direction he wanted to go. Usually, he played with the earth, darting in new directions to see if it could keep up with him.

He was too tired to play and too wired to sleep.

Hey, you want to spar? he asked a tree.

Its spirit murmured in agreement. Beck dropped into a sparring stance. Decker and their mother had both been teaching him how to fight, claiming he’d need to know in order to protect Light witchlings.

The tree stretched and released a branch. It smashed into Beck, sending him flying into another tree.

The danger of sparring with trees: they were stronger than they looked. Beck lay on the ground for a long minute, gazing up at the night sky visible through the treetops. He folded his arms beneath his head. The ground beneath him warmed while the tree’s gentle spirit murmured an apology.

It’s okay, really, Beck assured it. I needed to have my ass kicked.

No one disagreed with him. He steadied his breathing and let his mind wander, hoping he’d fall asleep here, since he couldn’t rest in bed.

Where have you been?

He twisted to see the forest creature, Sam, whose auburn hair clashed with the bright snow. The yeti was seated on a log nearby. For those who didn’t understand the language of the yetis, Sam communicated through the mind rather than in verbal exchanges.

I don’t want to go into it, Beck replied. I’m no longer suspected of murder, though.

This sounds like a good thing.

Yeah, Beck agreed. His mind drifted to the night three weeks ago when he found Tanya. He would never forget it or how sad her soul had been. I’ve got to get better at being me.

It takes time.

I don’t have time.

Be as gentle with yourself as you are with others.

That might be an issue, too. If I stopped to think before I got involved with Dawn, Tanya would be alive. Summer never would’ve gone Dark. I dunno. Maybe there are other issues caused by me not thinking.

Does it matter?

Beck raised his head, surprised by the question.

Tanya did die. Summer did go Dark and recovered. Dawn did go Dark. Can you change these things?

You’re the magickal yeti. You tell me, Beck said. He sat and draped his arms around his knees. I know, Sam. I can’t change what’s happened, but I should learn from it. No more girls. Not even the pretty one he met a few weeks ago with flame red hair and beautiful green eyes. His one interaction with her had been on a different level. She’d been at the back of his mind since.

Beck sighed, exhausted.

You will learn.

I’m sure I will. Might take a couple more girlfriends being knocked off by my jealous ex, he said sarcastically. Wow. That was mean, right?

Sam chuckled. Spoken out of frustration.

Beck rubbed the back of his neck. He didn’t mean it. As the protector of Light and witchlings, he didn’t want harm to befall anyone. His frustration was born of the knowledge that he really wasn’t certain how to be the great protector the Light needed in a time where the Darkness had grown so much.

Sam, who was the strongest Master of Light? he asked. I know what we’re taught in our history classes about the line of succession, but I think you know the real story.

The son of Bartholomew-the-Terrible. Tyron-the-Bright. Like you, he was born into a time of great evil.

What was he like?

He was a fire witchling. He was always angry, Sam said.

Beck laughed. Okay, but what made him so good at what he did?

He never faltered in his faith in the Light. He never lost his hope.

Interesting, Beck murmured. I’m not sure I can live up to that. What would you say about me, if someone in a hundred years asked you?

I would say … Sam was quiet for a minute. I would say his heart was the purest of any Light Master, but he doubted himself.

Deep, Beck said. Sounds like a train wreck.

Sam was right. Beck did doubt himself. It started with not realizing Summer’s danger and turned crippling when he discovered that people could die, if he made the wrong choice. Someone did die, because he underestimated the depth of Darkness in the mother of his child. It didn’t help that his predecessor and aunt – Nora, the Mistress of Light – had been dead for twenty years. He had no one to teach him the ins-and-outs of his duties and only the mysterious communications of his earth element and Sam to guide him.

But he tried. Every day, he woke up and swore to do his best. He never in his life thought his best wouldn’t be good enough to save the life of someone innocent, like Tanya.

You are a child of my forest. It pains me to see you distressed.

It pains me to be distressed, Beck responded with a small smile. How does the story end?

Any way you wish it to.

Do I get a name? Like Bartholomew-the-Terrible, Nataniel-the-Darkbringer, Alexander-the-Lightbringer, Tyron-the-Bright.

You will, yes. Right now, you are Beck-the-Sleepless.

So not funny, Beck said, though he smiled. It’s gotta be a strong name.

You have been the Master of Light for four months. It’s early to name yourself, isn’t it? The yeti was laughing at him.

I guess I’m looking for something. Motivation maybe. Clarity. Hope. Beck flicked away snow from his feet. Sam was right. His confidence was shaken after the events of the past few months. He wanted to believe the best in everyone, but he couldn’t do so and protect witchlings.

Look within.

I thought that was the problem to start off with. I keep hearing my bad judgment is behind everything, Beck grumbled.

Young judgment, not bad.

I keep thinking of Tanya. I had to tell her parents, Sam. I’ve never hurt so much for someone else.

Sam was quiet, leaving Beck with his thoughts. It wasn’t the crazy text messages preventing him from sleeping. It was the memory of Tanya and her family. Facing them was difficult, knowing his crazy ex had hurt her out of jealousy. He was responsible, because he was blind to the depths of Dawn’s cruelty.

Tanya wasn’t the only one at Dawn’s mercy.

The little girl Dawn carried was also in the middle of a disaster waiting to happen. His daughter would be born stuck between Light and Dark, after her mother went Dark while pregnant. By no fault of her own, his daughter would face a difficult life, one Beck didn’t yet know how to make better.

He expected to feel even more anxious about learning the baby was his, but thus far, the confirmation had settled the uncertainty and given him a firm goal. He was going to do everything he could to raise his daughter with love in the ways of the Light, even if that meant Dawn wasn’t a part of her life.

Before Tanya, he wouldn’t have been so decisive. Maybe that was the only blessing to come from her death. He now knew he had to save his little girl.

Of course, if he stopped to see beyond Dawn’s flawless looks in the first place, he wouldn’t have any of these concerns. He wanted to blame hormones, but Decker had warned him about the beautiful girl. At the time, Beck simply didn’t care.

Beck-the-Darktamer.

That one’s nice. He smiled, sensing Sam was trying to cheer him up. I’ll try to live up to it.

You have come far. You will learn, Sam said. Try to rest.

Beck nodded, doubting he would. He pushed himself to his feet. Sam stayed where he was while a path was cleared by the earth for Beck to return to the dorms. He offered another smile at the ugly, but wise forest creature and left, his thoughts no lighter than when he’d arrived.

2

Summer .

Her eyes flew open at the soft summons. Summer rose quickly and quietly, careful not to disturb her roommate, Biji. She pulled on a heavy jacket over her pajamas, swept her long hair into a loose ponytail and tiptoed down the hallway to the stairwell that led from the girls’ dorm area of the schoolhouse to the main floor and common areas. The large, log structure was silent, its occupants sleeping. No smells came from the kitchen yet, indicating it was sometime in the middle of the night before four, when the cooks began preparing breakfast.

Outside, it was freezing and the night sky clear. Her breath floated upwards, and air magick greeted her. It zipped through her body while the quiet earth magick warmed her feet.

Halfway down the driveway leading to the school, he was waiting for her. Summer’s heart quickened the way it did every time she saw him. At night, the magick of the Master of Dark was more powerful, unfurling around him in a black fog that settled at his feet. He waited with his hands crossed before him and his stance wide. He wasn’t allowed closer to the school, now that it was common knowledge that Dark students were causing the Light source beneath the school to shrink.

Sometimes, he still scared her. Sometimes, she remembered when she’d looked into his soul and saw the Darkness looking back at her.

Summer shook her head to clear the thought and ran down the driveway to her boyfriend, best friend – her world. She stopped in front of him and gazed up at him, searching his face for signs of the Darkness.

It wasn’t there, but there was blood on his jeans, a dark splash in the moonlight.

Rough night, he said in a gruff voice.

It’s okay, Decker, she whispered. You’re here now. Summer instinctively took his face in her hands.

He shuddered, his arms circling her to pull her into his body. He was strong and athletic, his body honed by the hundreds of laps a week he swam. A triple element – fire, water, spirit – his magick kept him from feeling the cold of winter the way she did. It swirled through her, a combination of warm and cool, before his fire magick pushed away her chill. His fire magick was capable of more than warmth; it lit the desire already swirling in her blood.

Behave, she said with a smile.

Fine.

His fire retreated, warming her without arousing her. She sensed his distress and hugged him closer, aware that only she was able to still the voices in his head and keep the Darkness from consuming him.

Are you okay? she asked, lifting her head.

Decker met her gaze. His eyes were brown, his chiseled cheekbones and dark complexion marking his mixed background. The tightness around his eyes and mouth softened.

I am now, he replied. You know, if we were together every night …

We will be, she promised. But not yet.

I know. He nuzzled her neck.

Summer giggled. It was a deal they made when they’d reunited three weeks before: to take things slow. She was still trying to recover from the three month trial she’d gone through to return to the Light from the Dark, and it was something of a shock to learn what the Master of Fire and Night had done in that short time span. The girls, the dead witchlings.

The Darkness.

Summer traced his face with her fingers, marveling at Decker’s stunning features. There was a part of her that wasn’t ready yet to take their relationship to where it had been, before she went Dark and spent three months recovering her soul.

I love you, she murmured.

I know, he said again, this time smiling.

There’s blood on your jeans.

Yeah.

She searched his face.

I had to, Summer. He broke the Dark Laws. He was getting ready to hurt someone else.

The hardest part of her being the counterbalance to the Master of Dark was not fearing what he was. Summer kissed him. Decker responded hungrily, his warm lips and hot kisses lighting her blood on fire. He pulled away before they went too far for either to stop.

I love you, too, he whispered. You are my everything.

Summer sighed. Decker was trying hard to respect the boundary she’d established. Every time his hands started roaming her body, he stopped them. Whenever their kissing grew too heavy, he withdrew.

She loved him for giving her the space she needed.

His arms tightened around her, and she breathed in his scent.

What is it, Beck? Decker growled.

Summer lifted her head from Decker’s chest, not sensing his twin, the Master of Light.

Just out for a walk, Beck said.

Decker’s grip on Summer loosened as he twisted to see his brother. Summer smiled at Beck, who grinned back. The twins were almost identical in appearances with the exception of their eye color. Outgoing and cheerful, Beck’s eyes were teal and his magick glowed white around him. White fog floated over his feet.

Summer studied Beck, noting the circles under his eyes. He’d been gone for most of the past three weeks, dealing with courts and police.

At midnight? Decker asked.

Yeah, Beck replied. DNA results came in Friday afternoon. Haven’t had much motivation to sleep.

The baby’s yours? Summer asked.

He nodded.

We’ll talk, Decker said in a tone that told Summer his plan of taking out the mother of Beck’s child was still an option.

Summer was torn. Though his poor judgment had resulted in a child with a Dark girl, Beck had proven his ability to be the Master of Light during the time she was struggling to win back her soul. He was learning his role as the protector of witchlings. She knew Beck would make an awesome father and leader for the Light witchlings, but the baby’s mother …

Dawn was Dark and had tried to kill Summer twice, not to mention the Dark girl had been involved in the death of Beck’s last girlfriend. Beck would be involved with her for the rest of his life, and Summer wished with all her heart that wasn’t the case. Beck had a good heart that he wasted on the wrong girl. He didn’t deserve to spend his life tormented by one bad decision.

You’ll make an incredible father, Beck, she said.

I’ll take care of my little girl. His smile was quick but she saw his worry.

We’ll help you, she offered.

Decker will have to leave the knife behind, Beck said.

I’ll teach her to take care of herself. No one will mess with her, Decker promised.

You guys are sweet.

Take care of yourself, Beck, Summer said. You need a break.

Too much to do, he replied. I’ll be fine. What matters is that you are preventing my twin brother from destroying himself or the world.

He’s fine, Beck, she said, smiling. I promise.

No doubt in my mind, Beck replied. Anyway, I’ll see you guys later. Gonna try to get some sleep.

Night, Beck, Decker said.

The blue-eyed twin started towards the school. Decker watched him, his head tilting to the side.

What’s wrong? she asked.

Something at the school is off, he replied.

Like how?

He paused then shook his head. Maybe it’s nothing.

You sure?

Yeah. Will you stay with me tonight? Decker whispered, when his brother was out of hearing range. It’s Saturday. No school tomorrow.

Can you behave? she challenged.

Unfortunately. He grimaced. I just need to be with you tonight.

Summer nodded. Let’s go.

Decker took her hand, and they started walking down the driveway, away from the school. His black fog swept over them, and a moment later, they were in his room at his parent’s cabin down the road.

Decker bent and picked her up, plopping her on the bed. Summer laughed, and he settled into bed beside her. She felt his pain – it was the same after every time he took a soul. Only she was able to give him peace. Decker smoothed her hair from her face, kissed her gently, and wrapped his arms around her.

Bartholomew stopped talking to me, he said, referring to Bartholomew-the-Terrible. As Master of Dark, Decker inherited the souls of his predecessors. They were his constant companions, talking to him, teaching him, guiding him through his duties. Except for Bartholomew, whose goal was to help the Darkness take over by dragging Decker into the Darkness.

Summer smiled. He got tired of me shutting him down?

Maybe, Decker said. I hope so. With him gone and you in my arms … The tension slid from him, and he sighed into her hair.

Triumphant, she snuggled against him, loving the strength and heat of his body. The idea she’d been the key to ridding him of the soul that almost drove him over the edge made her happy.

I love you, he murmured.

Summer smiled, her magick and heart singing.

3

"Y ou want your daddy to live, put the soul stone in the heart of the Light."

Morgan MacLeod snapped awake. The dream was too vivid. She looked around, not daring to relax until she verified she was in the boarding school for witchlings in Priest Lake, Idaho, and not home in New York with the Dark uncle who tormented her for the past four years.

She knew better than to question the man who gave her the tasking. It was the condition her uncle – and legal guardian – gave her in exchange for agreeing to let her come to the boarding school. The mere thought of incurring his anger made the cold winter morning sink further into her skin. No doubt, her Sunday would start the same way it had for the past three weeks, since she arrived at the campus: with her out in the stupid snow, trying to find the heart of the Light.

Her room was freezing. She summoned her fire magick. It crept through her body, making her glow. It was close to seven, time to get up.

She threw off her covers and went to the dresser, picking up the black rock that resembled polished obsidian. It sat in the palm of her hand, heavy like iron. She didn’t know anything about the soul stone, other than it was passed down from her mother, who was also a fire witchling. Whatever knowledge originally accompanied the stone had long been lost. Her mother gave her two simple rules: no one was to know about it, and no one but a fire witchling could touch it.

Morgan understood why. Sometimes, it was cold enough to cause frostbite on contact, if not for her fire magick. Right now, it was chilling her entire room to the point that icy cobwebs spread across the inside of her windows.

She clenched it in her hand. Flames burst out around her fist. She’d never been able to warm the stone itself, but she could counter its ability to make her room cold. When the temperature of the air no longer made her shiver, she released the rock and picked up her phone.

For the first time since arriving, she had the urge to call her father and check on him.

But she didn’t. She didn’t feel like getting screamed at by her father, whose construction accident left him both disabled for life and angry about it. Unable to care for himself, he had invited his brother to move in.

Her life had been hell since that day almost four years ago, when Morgan’s mother lost the custody battle and the courts sent Morgan to live with her father. Connor stayed with their mother.

Restless, Morgan got dressed and left her room. She trudged into the snowy forest filled with towering pine trees, not at all certain what she sought or even how she would know it if she found it.

A native of New York, Morgan was accustomed to snow, but she didn’t have to like it. She jammed her gloved hands into her coat pockets. Her right hand wrapped around the stone she was sworn to let out of her possession only when she found where it belonged: at the heart of the Light.

She chose to walk towards what the campus map called Miner’s Drop. The trail through the forest was knee-deep, and she went halfway down it before turning back and trudging towards the cleared road that led around the witchlings’ Light campus, which lay several dozen kilometers north of the Dark campus.

Movement beyond the boys’ dorms caught her attention. She paused to peer into the Square, the gathering area inside the horseshoe-shaped backyard, edged by the school and boys’ dorms. Witchling students held bonfires here most evenings after dinner, unless it was storming or too cold.

Today, however, it wasn’t a bonfire that caught her attention. A large Christmas tree was being moved into the center of the Square by a handful of hired workers.

Her eyes went to the windows of the girls’ dorm rooms, many of which overlooked the Square. Hers was one, and she frowned, realizing she’d be able to see the tree from her window.

She wanted to burn it down. Her fire magick stirred with her anger, and tiny sparks landed in the snow at her feet, sizzling to their demise.

Morgan hated Christmas more than snow. Christmas four years ago – a week before she turned fourteen – was the worst day of her life. She hadn’t celebrated her birthday or Christmas since.

She turned away from the Square and walked down the road, not wanting to recall that night. Or how this year, she’d be eighteen, old enough to run away finally, but without anywhere else to go.

Especially not if her overbearing brother, Connor, figured out her plan.

You are way too cute to be frowning like that.

Morgan’s breath caught at the familiar voice. She hadn’t heard it since arriving three weeks ago, when the teen boy with a dark complexion and beautiful, blue eyes left her feeling as if her head was either going to explode or float away. He’d accidentally touched her once, and she still remembered the giddy anxiety that flew through her faster than the fire magick did when she was angry.

And then, like all the rest of the good parts of her life, he had just … gone away. Abandoned her. Someone said he was on vacation in Europe with his family while others said he was in jail for getting some girl pregnant. There were lots of weird rumors about him. She took it as a sign that she didn’t need him in her life.

Whatever, she said without turning. She didn’t think she could look at him without feeling what she did when they met: as if the fire in her blood burned hot enough that she was fevered. The touch of his strong earth magick – calming as it was – distressed her.

No, he was not what she needed, especially so close to the anniversary of The Incident, the worst day of her life.

We’re going to decorate as soon as the tree is up. You want to help?

No, she replied firmly and started walking again, away from him.

How are the sisters? he asked, referring to the two younger teen girls she arrived with. They were all but traumatized when they arrived, having never left home before. She did what she could to help them relax, and then they, too, had found other friends and moved on without her.

Fine.

You settling in okay?

She sighed. He wasn’t taking the hint. Typical boy, like her brother, who needed a two-by-four to the head to understand when she wanted time alone.

Connor and I are fine, she said.

That shut him up, though she couldn’t help feeling disappointed that it did. Her brother always came between her and any guy who looked at her twice. Usually, she was grateful, but sometimes, she wondered what it was like to be a normal teen girl. One who didn’t have the dark secret she did or who wasn’t afraid to trust herself or the guys she was attracted to. One without a Dark father, emotional basket case of a Dark mother or a brother who took his role of protecting her too seriously. One who was able to date someone as cute as Beck.

I, uh, kinda need to talk to you about something serious. Beck’s voice jarred her out of her thoughts. She realized he hadn’t gone away; he was following, at a safe distance, as if aware that her fire didn’t react well in close quarters.

What? she asked, turning at last.

Tall and athletic, Beck was confident enough to be cocky. His smile was quick and friendly. He wore a white puffer jacket and jeans. Dark hair was neatly trimmed, and the combination of his high cheekbones, large eyes and strong jaw rendered him stunning. He glowed with Light that left her feeling inferior, after she was told in class that she was an in-between, neither Light nor Dark, like the polluted gray snow lining busy roads.

His steady gaze made her face grow warm.

Amber says you’re not doing so well in class. I’m supposed to be mentoring you. So, I, uh, just wondered … what’s up, he said. He rubbed the back of his head, as if unaccustomed to being a mentor with a bad student like her.

Nothing, she replied.

She says the only thing you’re really interested in is your fire magick courses.

Yeah, so? she asked. Maybe I don’t like it here.

Is that it? You really don’t like it here?

I don’t fit in. The mostly wealthy kids here had never been poor or hurt like she had. She’d never met anyone yet with two Dark parents. But it was more than that. She wasn’t about to explain it to him, though.

I guess, she said.

Is your offer to set someone’s shoes on fire for me still open?

Yes, of course. No one should ever talk to anyone like she did you, Morgan said with firmness. It’s not right to belittle someone else or to hurt them, just because you’re angry or upset.

Beck was studying her, and she assessed she’d revealed too much. She flushed and looked away.

Tell Amber I’m fine. I’ll adjust, and I don’t need a mentor, especially one who’s gone all the time. Turning away once more, Morgan began her journey towards the frozen creek that ran beneath a bridge at the edge of campus.

Do you want company? he called after her.

No.

Beck watched the gorgeous redhead walk away, now understanding her instructors’ concerns. The normally cheerful head instructor for Light Arts, Amber, had been genuinely upset about one of her newest students, who she described as throwing up walls at every attempt to talk to her.

Tempted to go with Morgan despite her refusal, Beck debated for a moment then turned towards the Square. He was almost relieved Connor McCloud – Morgan’s brother – wasn’t standing behind him with the familiar glare of warning. If Morgan didn’t want to talk to him now, he’d deal with her later. He had other issues on his plate this morning.

Issues that should have been more important than seeing the beautiful girl with a peaches-and-cream complexion, red hair that clashed with the white wonderland around them and pine-colored eyes. A fire element, Morgan’s magick was the opposite of Beck’s calm, balanced earth magick. Hers sizzled off the ends of flame-hued hair and sparked in her eyes.

Beck shook his head to clear it of her effect. Frustrated with her new student, Amber insisted he talk to her first thing this morning. He didn’t expect to feel a renewal of the strange connection they’d had when they met. He preferred blondes, and his initial attraction to girls was normally gone after a few days.

It wasn’t with Morgan, which was weirding him out. He still felt his pulse race dangerously when he saw her.

Maybe it’s better she wants nothing to do with me. Except that it was his duty as the Master of Light to determine what to do about her and her brother, both of whom were caught between Light and Dark and neither of whom had taken their trials at the age of seventeen, like they were supposed to. Connor was eighteen and Morgan would be soon.

Beck returned to the warmth of the main schoolhouse and Amber’s office, where the Light Arts instructor was catching up on grading the projects assigned to the witchlings under her charge. The projects were contained within small glass bubbles that littered her desk. Some held waterfalls, others snow tumbling from miniature clouds while still others featured tiny trees sprouting to life. None contained fire, a reminder of how rare the element was.

I went, and she’s not interested in talking, he reported. Anything else, before I start working on my normal duties?

Amber glanced up from her laptop. She won’t even thaw to the infamous Beck charm. I thought you could get anyone to talk to you, especially girls. Her words were accompanied by a wink.

I didn’t really try, he retorted. If I wanted to … Stop, Beck! He ordered himself silently. Not thinking before he acted was how he got into half of the messes he was trying to deal with now.

The next step is counseling, Amber said. I have a feeling that won’t go over well with her parents.

Or her.

Maybe you should bring it up to her first.

Beck eyed Amber, who was trying not to smile. Aren’t you her instructor?

Aren’t you the Master of Light?

Beck sighed.

You have to learn to help people, right? Go help her.

I don’t want to help her.

His honesty was too quick to stop. Amber looked up, startled.

"I mean, of course, I want to help her, but I don’t think