"Xanthe?" Maia called, gently nudging her arm. "Xanthe, wake up!"
Wheezing loudly, Xanthe sprang abruptly from the bed into a sitting position, her eyes widening as if she'd seen a ghost. Cold sweat beaded across her pale forehead while her body shivered uncontrollably.
She sat still for a moment, panting and fighting between sleep and consciousness.
She'd had a dream. A nightmare, actually. One about Lorenzo's death. However, something was quite different about this nightmare. It felt far too real almost as if it was happening to her.
Was that a. . . premonition?
It felt exactly like how it was explained in the books.
Were her powers manifesting now that she was reaching her coming of age?
Suddenly, excitement flooded through her body, washing away the distress of the nightmare. Her eyes shifted to her trembling palms and lingered.
She could feel it. In every quiver of her hands.
