Book I: Near Death Experience (18+) ✔️

28.

My anger feels palpable, like an electric storm brewing within me. It's a mixture of frustration, hurt, and a deep sense of betrayal. The powers I possess seem to surge at the edges of my control, crackling beneath my skin, seeking release. Every harsh word, every dismissive gesture, fuels the tempest within.

I'm angry at the disrespect shown by Elijah, the one meant to guide me, yet he seems to mock and belittle my abilities. The lack of support from those I love adds fuel to the fire, leaving me feeling isolated and misunderstood.

My magic, a force both feared and revered, responds to my emotions. It swirls within me, eager to answer my call but dangerously untamed, as I've only seen its destructive side. The urge to unleash it, to show them the power they've underestimated, grows stronger with each insult hurled my way.

My rage becomes entwined with the untamed energy of my magic, a volatile combination seeking an outlet, a release that might manifest as crackling sparks dancing around me or an aura pulsating with an otherworldly glow. The very air around me seems charged, carrying the weight of my emotions and the untapped potential of my formidable abilities.

My fury crackles in the air, Knox's voice a searing blade. "Adelaide!" Knox's plea echoes through the hallway.

"Leave me alone, Knox," I retort, my tone slicing through the silence.

"I understand you're upset, but he told us not to step in. He wanted to see your outburst firsthand," Knox explains, his voice tinged with concern and frustration.

My hand hovers over the doorknob, a fleeting moment of indecision before I grab my coat from the closet. With a forceful stride, I storm out of the room, the door slamming shut behind me, a reverberating punctuation to my anger.

Knox hurries after me, catching up in the hallway. In an attempt to stop me, he places a hand on my shoulder. Instead, I veer away, slamming my shoulder into his. His grip tightens around my arm, his eyes locking onto mine with a mixture of intensity and regret.

"You think I wanted to listen to hateful words?" Knox's voice is raw with emotion. "You think I wanted to be quiet? I wanted to rip his head off his fucking body when they left his lips."

My anger meets Knox's frustration as he forcefully presses us both against the wall. "I would drain any man that speaks to you like that," his voice lowers to a dangerous growl, "that disrespects the ground you walk on. But this was for the greater good for you."

"I'm still mad at you," my voice wavers slightly, a hint of vulnerability amidst the anger.

"I know, my love," Knox acknowledges softly.

"Come on," Knox's tone shifts, a mix of apology and invitation.

"Where are we going?" My defiance lingers in my question.

"I think we both could use a drink," Knox suggests, hoping to ease the tension.

"What about Xander?" Concern for our beloved is evident in my voice.

"He and Elijah can catch up," Knox assures me, guiding me away from the conflict, seeking solace in the refuge of a shared moment.

As Knox leads me down the grand staircase of the estate, his steps are purposeful yet gentle, almost as if trying to navigate the storm within me. The soft glow of the chandeliers above casts a warm hue on the surroundings, juxtaposing the intensity of our earlier confrontation.

Approaching a door I've never ventured through, Knox pauses, his hand lingering on the ornate doorknob. The heavy door swings open, revealing a cavernous space—the garage. It's a time capsule from the '70s, a museum of sleek, vintage cars parked in meticulous order. The ambient lighting accentuates the curves and chrome of each vehicle, creating an atmosphere steeped in nostalgia and luxury.