Hayle Coven Novels
Quaid flinched as it touched him, his magic rising to the call.
"Quaid," Mom said. "You are family." When her magic reached for him, it came toward him at eye level, a spinning branch, stroking over his arms, his legs, prodding his chest like an eager puppy. Everywhere it touched, the Dumont magic retreated as though burned. Quaid's magic, that lovely, warm weighty feel I remembered, went right to Mom, dropping free of Odette.
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