She felt it begin to rise within her; coiling, boiling, growing, powering, and she lay her head back, face to the moon, to let it grow. It surged through her body, growing and pulsing, making her body tingle. She loved it when the power washed through her, making every nerve sing. Every touch made her moan softly; the wind was like a lover's touch, sweeping her hair from her face and caressing each cheek lightly. And with the strength came the sensuality, the part of her power she most cherished. Her nerve endings singing, her body on fire, the wind to which she called caressing her like a long time lover. She called to it, pushed it to a fever pitch, and fed the hunger within. Spreading her arms out slightly to her sides, head tilting back farther, she let her mind go, let it see whatever it would, let it lead her as she always did.
he saw him, clothed in a pair of black slacks, black button down hanging open, red silk shirt beneath. With the sides of the shirt billowed around him; he seemed the Dark Angel himself. Dark and dangerous. He was all hard and lean, not an ounce wasted. He oozed strength and control. Her own individuality reared up in the face of the possession he directed toward her. She shook her head to rid itself of what it would show her, but the vision stayed, taking the control she sought and twining his around her instead.
"No," she whispered aloud, "this is not real, merely a figment of the power and the energy." But still he lingered, the grin of a victor calmly upon his face. She shook her head in negation, denying that she could have brought this on herself. Her strength was not yet that strong. And damn the man, he laughed. Laughed as though this were funny or humorous in any way.
"No," he gently tickled within her mind, "you aren't that strong. But I am. And I'll not leave. I've been waiting for you, waiting for you to acknowledge all that you are and all that you were meant to be. So here we are, and I will show you. I am going to take you higher, weave the magic you seek throughout you until you're breathless from it. I know what it does to you, the changes it renders. I know the hungers it brings and I know the desires that shame you in the light of day, but you feed in the safety of the dark. I know, and those secrets are no longer safe behind the walls you have erected. You are mine. Now's the time for you to learn that."
She could feel the darkness moving all around her, through her, swirling and spinning as though it were trying to devour her or even empower her; it was hard to tell which. She lifted her face into the wind, she let it feed into her own energy, feeling it pulse and throb with something that could only be called life. Raking her nails along the inside of her palms, feeling herself grow stronger; she opened her eyes to level a dead stare.
She had anticipated that he would look away, having watched her feed into this, or at least be less certain, but he wasn't. If nothing else, drawing on that strength had empowered him, too. The stare she leveled at him was returned in kind, his pouring an icy heat forth, challenging her to open up and share. She smirked at that, believing his strength to be of a lesser quality and lashed out from somewhere deep within, whipping her energy around his body, letting the lightning heat touch but only barely. It bounced rather than flowed and it appeared erratic, but he knew it was not.
He let her tamp along the edges, but when she would lash out to hurt, he grabbed hers with his own and bent it to his will, not squelching what was hers, but adding to it and controlling it. His brows lifted in surprise when she jerked hers away, then scorched him with the heat of it as she snapped it dangerously close. He didn't fear then, either, taking the display for what is was, a showing of strength. In control she might be, but when this witch was angry, so was her energy.
