Page 122 of Glutton for Punishment

Sure, it will…

I give a small, cautious nod back anyway.

“This will be quick. We’ll step into the observation room behind the protective glass there.” She says’s pointing at a room eerily similar to the lab in Greed. “When I relay to you to begin, your goal will be to use your power on the stack of empty boxes there.”

I glance at the stacked cardboard boxes she referenced. Easy enough. I have a wide berth. No one should be in danger.

They move into the other room, and I wait until I hear Dean Bellow’s voice over the intercom telling me to proceed.

I close my eyes and focus.

Okay, Arwen… don’t panic. Don’t overthink.

Opening myself up to the familiar static that is my power, I expect it to come to me easily. When it doesn’t flood me, I reach inward.

My heart stutters when I don’t find it, but I keep searching… digging…

Finally.

I find it. It’s faint, but it’s there. Latching onto it immediately, relief flickers through me—

“Okay,” I whisper under my breath. “There you are.”

I tighten my grip on it. And it just… shifts.

Slides through my grip like smoke. My eyes snap open.

“What the—no—”

The boxes stand, untouched.

“I—” My voice catches, so I force it steadier. “I can feel it. I swear I can.”

In the observation room, Pox tilts his head. “Describe the sensation. Be specific.”

“It’s like…” I swallow and hesitate, searching for words that don’t make me sound insane. “Like something’s under my skin. Close. Really close. But when I reach for it, it moves away.”

Lennox exchanges a look with Pox.

“Can I try again?” I ask.

“Proceed,” Dean Bellows responds.

I try again immediately, harder this time. Digging inward, I hunt for that dark and hungry place the power used to live—the hollow under my ribs where it once curled like something waiting to be fed. I search for it. I grab for it. I throw myself at it.

“Come on,” I whisper under my breath, like it might help. Like it might hear me.

I push even harder, calling for it the way I did when I was being sliced open in front of Councilor Blaise. I grit my teeth, sweat already prickling at the back of my neck, straining so fiercely it makes my temples pound.

Nothing. Not even a flicker.

My chest tightens. There’s a heat building under my skin—not power, just frustration twisting into something ugly.

“Stop,” the Dean’s voice cuts through.

My eyes snap open to find the professors all exiting the barrier room. The door swings shut behind them with a soft, final click. I’m still standing there in front of four stupid stacked cardboard boxes that will be downfall.

“It’s still there,” I blurt, mortified. “I can feel it. I’m not—” My voice drops. “It keeps pulling back. Every time I get close, it just… moves. I don’t know what’s happening.”