Book Confessions of an Ex-Ballerina

Granden looked shocked. “There is no magic in the walls. You are as insane as your father was.”

My eyes widened as I stared down upon the robust man throwing insults from his chair. I might not have lost my temper if he hadn't used my father’s name in that way, but what I did was of his own doing. Even my magic and that in the walls didn't attempt to stop me. I let lose a flame that surrounded the chair, encircling it in a wall of fire. That’s where I left him, crying out for help, the flames licking at his feet and face.

I threw the large wooden doors open before me, using only my magic. I was breathing heard, trying to calm my thoughts, to force down the anger inside me. He had gone too far. If he hadn't brought my father into the conversation things would have gone differently. Still, I was sure I had gotten my point across.