"You need someone to teach you control," Brynn says, leaning forward with her fingers steepled under her chin. Her voice is honey-soft now, nothing like her slightly maniacal cackling of earlier. "Before you hurt yourself—or worse, someone you care about."
Something in her tone sends ice water down my spine. Like she already knows about what happened when I was with the Conclave. Like she can see the blood on my soul.
The casual certainty of her prediction is too close to the truth.
"You're a walking powder keg with a lit fuse, darling." Her old eyes lock onto mine. "And when you explode? I guarantee it won't be pretty."
My throat tightens, and I glance away, unable to hold her gaze.
"I can teach you to harness your untamed power. To bend it to your will instead of the other way around." She tilts her head, wrinkled face suddenly gentle. "What do you say, Nicole? Let me mentor you."
