It’s much easier to tell yourself you’re a good person than it is to actually be one.” Sciona slammed a palm down on the desk. “That’s out of line!” The way Thomil twitched back drove an unbalancing stab of emotion through Sciona’s chest. There was that slight rush. Power. Realizing she could knock the fight out of someone physically bigger than herself. It was the intoxicating hum of the spellograph whirring into motion at her command—but tainted with something else. Because Thomil wasn’t a spellograph.
