After a deep sleep, she awoke with conviction. Her mind was made up. She was going to face the enemy that had destroyed the Athenaeum and then free the other spellcasters. Once the rogue spellcasters were gone, she would return to the mountain with Andrik. That was all she wanted. She might be the most powerful spellcaster the Athenaeum had ever seen, but she was done with that life. Kestrel had finally found her place in life, and that was by her mate’s side. She got up. Andrik wasn’t in the room. The sun streamed in through the clouds and warmed her. Taking a moment, she summoned some of her power. The fire flared up from her palm and twirled in a column of flame. It was hard to separate her dragon fire and the magic that she had been born with. She squelched the flame, drew upon her spellcaster power, and the flame appeared again. Gritting her teeth, she focused on the candle by her bed. It rose in the air by the power of her will. It floated above the covers before she beckoned it to her.
