Page 99 of Harnessed in Gold

I won’t let anything happen to you.

“Jasmine’s element is water,” he gently warns. “So this could be pretty intense. But I think it’s the best way to get results.” When I stiffen, he reiterates, “I’m right here.”

I tip my head back to see his face. “You could calm me.”

He brushes a thumb across my cheek. “If I do, it might dull your power.”

So I have to get a filling without novocaine?

No, I can do this. I need to. Answers, results, knowledge—without them, I’m a live wire. With them, I’m powerful. “Okay.” I squeeze his hand. “Let’s do it.”

He squeezes back. “That’s my rebel violet.”

First step: harness his emotions. I angle myself so I can reach his chest and tuck my head into the crook of his neck.

“Drain me,” he orders, pressing my hand over his heart. “As much as you can.”

I suck in a breath and nod. Eyes closed, I drape myself in my damp velvet cloak and open the front to usher in his emotions.

The first wave hits me like a hot gust of wind. The fastest, hastiest, most impulsive feelings: fear, rage, jealousy. Then comes the deep ache of longing. It sinks into me faster than I can stop it, weighing on my chest.Pull them in. Pull them in. Hold them under your ribs.

Leo’s arm tightens around me, keeping me steady.

Finally, come the milder emotions—soft whispers of affection, excitement, and pride. I take them each as they come, inhaling them gently, and feeling them flutter to a landing under my ribs.

With a stretch and a deep breath, I alert Leo that I’ve finished.

He takes hold of my face and studies my eyes. “How do you feel?”

“Full.” I huff an awkward laugh. “But I’m okay.” The sooner we get this stuff out of me, the better. “How do you feel?”

His smile is soft. “Like I could use a good nap.”

I sweep his hair back from his unglamoured, gold-flecked eyes. I’m starting to prefer him this way; he’s wholly himself in his faerie form.

He captures my shaky hand and presses a kiss to the backs of my fingers. “Are you ready?”

At my nod, he sets my back to his chest again and positions the potted jasmine directly in front of us. “I’m going to start without you. I’ll try opening some of these blossoms.” When he stretches out his hand, the jasmine trembles, so minutely I might have imagined it. Slowly, painstakingly, the white, trumpet-shaped buds unfold into five-pointed stars.

He mumbles in my ear, “Now, help me.”

He sounds half-asleep.

I fit my hand into his upturned one and hold it tightly as he flips them both and stretches his fingers toward the flowers. Our chests both hitch as our energies connect, and right away, the jasmine’s leaves perk up, like little bunny ears catching a sound. Leo turns his wrist, and a vine curls into a spiral, but its movement is… geriatric.

His voice slurs with fatigue, “Give me some energy, Betts.”

I almost ask how before I realize I already know. I reach deep intomy solar plexus, scoop out the energy, and throw it straight out of my hand.

We both gasp. Sunshine-like warmth builds in my fingers and palms, and an incredible sense of harmony settles over me. The fragrance of jasmine, so sensual and relaxing, has my eyelids fluttering and my heavy head dropping onto Leo’s shoulder.

“Betts, look.”

It’s a struggle to open my eyes, but when I do, I’m left breathless with wonder. The jasmine vines reach for us like dozens of skinny arms, their flowered sleeves filling the room with their perfume.

“Am I helping you do that?” A minute ago he was so drained he could barely open a few buds.

“Yes,” he breathes.