Awakening

[Morven]

She’d intended that he restrain her arm, but since it had been an offer made to pander to Michael’s sensibilities, she did not complain that he misunderstood. Morven’s eyes widened when her feet left the floor, but it was her own animal instinct to fight that arrested her most, even though she knew this was nothing but the sterility of investigation – and one she had consented to. But though there was no threat, she discovered she did not like the feeling of helplessness, not at all, and it flashed volatility through her gaze before she turned her attention to the power molten in her veins.

Morven explored in the same way he had explained it – that at least felt similar, a force sensed more in its absence than any clear understanding of his power. Then she attempted a blunt scythe to satisfy his scientific interest in the comparison, unsurprised when it rebounded to little real effect. She looked to see whether he had felt anything, but didn’t voice the attempt – she hated the idea of being outmatched, even if it was only to test his theories.

That settled, she thought about it the same way she met the unique challenges of her patients in the emergency room. The power was a tool like any other, and must be used in the right way to reap the biggest benefits. It took all her concentration, and was not as easy as she might have hoped, but stubborn resolve propelled her though. She was fast with dextrous weaving; she’d learned to be, when seconds marked the distinction between living and not.

Still, it was an effort – far more than it had appeared to be for him. Though breaking free did come with satisfaction, whatever the toll.

“Now you definitely owe me dinner,” she said, and grinned, brushing herself off.