Page 65 of Secrets of Avalon

But here, in Hawke's embrace, I find some peace, a glimmer of hope. His scent – a mixture of pine and something uniquely him – fills my nostrils, displacing the acrid smell of my fear. Gradually, the roaring in my ears subsides, replaced by the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze.

"You shouldn't have taken me from Kellan. I could've hurt you." The urge to pull away, to protect him, wars with my desperate need for his comfort.

“No.” Hawke's arms tighten around me, his embrace firm and unyielding. "I'm not afraid of your magick. You won't hurt me."

I lift my head, meeting his gaze. His eyes are soft with concern, but there's a steely resolve behind them that makes my breath catch. The immediate danger has passed, my magick is no longer threatening to explode, but a nagging worry persists in the back of my mind. This break is temporary. It always comes back.

"It's not true." My hands are splayed against his chest, ready to push away if necessary. "My magick doesn't recognize people. I can't control it."

Hawke's brow furrows, a hint of skepticism creeping into his expression. "I don't believe that."

My throat tightens as memories flood back. "I've hurt people. Killed people," I say, a huge sob shaking me. "People I didn't mean to hurt or kill. I can't control it."

His face softens, and he cups my cheek with one hand. "You have more control now," he says, his thumb brushing away a tear. His other hand moves to my forearm, tracing the wriggling tattoo of Siva. "You have a guardian. And you have me now. And Kellan."

A small, warm flutter in my chest fights with the lingering fear. I lean into his touch, allowing myself a moment of comfort.

"It might not be enough," I whisper, but there's less conviction in my voice now.

Hawke's lips quirk into a small, determined smile. "We'll make it enough."

“He is right. Your control has vastly improved, Domina.” Kellan leans against the courtyard wall a few feet away, watching over the low wall that hides Hawke and I from view where we’re sitting on the ground. “When I gave you to Prince Stormblood, your magick calmed almost immediately.”

Hawke and Kellan’s words of affirmation help to ease the tightness in my chest, as well as the suffocating fear that I might lose control and hurt those I care about. I believe them. I want to. But being in control of anything is new to me.

I take a deep, shuddering breath, refocusing on the solid warmth of Hawke's body against mine, the way his fingers trace gentle patterns on my skin.

"I want to believe that," I murmur, lifting my head again to meet Hawke's gaze. His whiskey-brown eyes are filled with unwavering faith and love, a steadfast belief in me that takes my breath away. "I want to be the person you both see when you look at me."

"You already are, Melinda," Hawke says softly, brushing a stray tear from my cheek. "You're stronger than you know."

The reassuring moment is interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps. My body instantly goes rigid, fear spiking through me at the prospect of another confrontation. Hawke's arms tighten around me, a silent reassurance that helps me breathe through the initial panic.

I turn my head to see Kellan's reaction. He straightens and turns to face the newcomer, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. But he doesn’t appear alarmed and that helps me stay mostly calm.

A young page, no more than twelve years old, rounds the corner, his eyes widening as he takes in the scene before him. He bows low, his voice trembling slightly. "Your Highness, Lady Mayweather, I come bearing a message from Her Majesty, Queen Isolde."

The mention of the Queen's name sends a jolt through my body, like I've been struck by lightning. My mouth goes dry. Hawke and I exchange a surprised glance.

"What is the message?" Hawke asks, his tone even and commanding, but I barely hear him over the roaring in my ears.

"Her Majesty requests the presence of Lady Mayweather in her chambers, to prepare for the Changing of the Guard ceremony," the page replies, his gaze darting nervously between us.

I swallow hard, my heart racing at the thought of facing Hawke's mother, the Fae queen of Avalon. What could she possibly want with me? My mind races with possibilities, each more terrifying than the last. Does she know about my loss of control? Is this a trap? Or worse, a test?

Breathe, Domina. You’re safe. I want to believe her. I want to believe all of them. But time has proven over and over again that I’m not good enough. That I’m dangerous. That I hurt everyone around me.

I clench my trembling fingers into fists, trying to hide my fear. The residual energy from my earlier magical outburst threatens to resurface, prickling beneath my skin. I take a deep breath, following Siva’s instructions, desperately trying to maintain my control.

Hawke stands, gently pulling me to my feet beside him.

"Tell my mother we will be there shortly," he says, dismissing the page with a nod. The boy bows again and scurries away, leaving us alone once more.

"Hawke, I don't know if I can do this," I whisper. "What do you think she wants? I–"

"Shh," he soothes, cupping my face in his hands. "My mother is a kind and fair woman. She would not have extended this invitation to be cruel."

I take a deep breath, drawing courage from his words and the fierceness shining in his eyes. "Okay," I nod, squaring my shoulders. "I’m ready."