Colorless
The storm in me stilled, just slightly, as if his voice tethered it.
"Good," he said. "Now let it rise, slowly. Don't fight it. Guide it."
The heat in my chest obeyed at first, rolling upward like smoke, but then it surged, wild and eager, burning through my veins until my skin prickled. My hands shook. Light flickered at my fingertips—soft at first, then sharper, brighter, too bright.
"Jasmine," Amaya whispered, taking a step back.
"I can't—" My voice broke. The light burst outward, cracking the air around me. A ripple of power swept the clearing, fast and violent, throwing dust and pebbles into the air.
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