Chapter Two

"You're thinking too much," Hook snapped impatiently. "Stop thinking."

"Well, excuse me for having a brain," Emma shot back. "Thinking isn't something I can just shut off."

"It would be if you were more disciplined. You lack control and focus. Magic is not an intellectual endeavor."

"So you keep saying, but I still have no idea what that means!"

"That much is clear!"

The two stood face to face, both breathing heavily from the annoyance and frustration permeating the room. Emma's bright eyes flashed defiantly at Hook, and not for the first time he was thrown off kilter by her beauty and strength.

"Perhaps that is enough for the day," he relented, stepping back and running his hand through his hair before dismissing her with a curt gesture. "You may retire to your room."

"Don't you mean your room," she snarked, pushing past him as she made her way out the door.

Hook watched her go and an unexpected war of conscience briefly erupted within him. It was true, he had not offered her accommodations of her own, citing the fact that he did not require sleep and rarely used his chambers. In reality he had not wanted to be separated from her presence. He wanted her close, needed her close, and it vexed him that he did not fully understand why.

In the weeks since she'd agreed to his deal he had tried to keep his distance from her. It had been easy at first, leaving her with the vast volumes within his library so she might read up on various methods and properties of magic before moving to more hands-on instruction. Now, whenever they were not in training sessions to help her tap into those vast stores of magic he could feel vibrating deep within her, he gave her space to roam his castle and grounds without his dark presence looming over her. Or tried to, at least. Inevitably he found himself in some shadowy corner or higher vantage point where he could watch her unobserved, her company too enticing to avoid altogether.

They shared meals. Silent, tension filled meals, where the only utterances were the soft clinks and scrapes of the cutlery against the plates, or the creaks and groans of the aging chairs. He had no one to blame for that but himself. She had tried to make conversation once, no doubt unnerved by the silence, and things had been pleasant enough until she asked about the woman Neal had referred to. The one he was accused of stealing away from the man's ancestor.

His reply had been nothing even remotely close to good form.

Good form. Was he even capable of such a thing anymore? Even as a pirate he had tried to maintain a certain code, some shred of honor to make him less than despicable to his brother's memory. As the Dark One, however, the line of honor and good form had whittled away with each sharpened tendril the Darkness had used to carve out his soul and darken his heart.

The moon was high when Hook finally made his way back to his chamber. No doubt Emma would be asleep by now, so he opted to transport himself into the room rather than risk waking her with the creaking of the door. His brow furrowed at the warm glow emitted from the bedside lantern she'd failed to extinguish.

When he made his way around to the side of the bed, he noted that she had fallen asleep whilst reading, a heavy tome lay open across her chest. Carefully, he removed the book from her weak grasp and placed it on the table. Only slightly aware his action had caused her to reposition herself in her sleep, his body froze when he looked back upon her slumbering form.

Her movements had shifted her nightgown, allowing one of her breasts to become exposed. The dusky hue of her nipple, bathed in the warmth of the lantern, complemented the honeyed tone the light cast upon her normally cream colored skin. The faint chill in the air roused the rosy bud until it hardened enticingly, beckoning to him.

Touch her, a voice hissed inside him. You've longed for the feel of her, for the taste of her. See how her flesh calls to you? Take her. You want her, so take her. 'Tis simple enough.

The backs of his fingers brushed lightly against her collarbone then down towards the valley of her breasts. Goosebumps erupted in their wake, spreading across her chest and raising beneath the pads of his fingers as he circled them around her nipple. A soft sigh passed over her lips when his thumb swiped over the sensitive bud, forcing him to come to his senses. He pulled his hand away, shaking his head against the voices urging him to have his way with her.

"No," he growled against the Darkness while securing her modesty behind the protection of her nightgown.

A breath shuddered beneath the ribbon he had just finished tying with his magic, causing his eyes to dart up to her face. Frozen again by her parted lips and wide eyes staring up at him, Hook's hand hovered over the closure of her gown. He swallowed heavily when her gaze fell to her chest before flicking back up. Heat prickled beneath his skin, spreading an irritating sensation up his neck to the tips of his ears.

Shame, he realized with a jolt. He was ashamed. A feeling he thought long since snuffed out by the Darkness now itched below the surface and radiated off his face. Could she see it? The mortified flush in his cheeks? The remorse swirling in his eyes? The confused countenance of his posture, abashed at being caught?

"I…" Words caught in his throat, his focus switching from the unforeseen embarrassment coursing through him, to the way her tongue had hesitantly wet her still parted lips. Her eyes were no longer wide with shock, but instead held his gaze with a measure of expectation. Though, he could not discern what that expectation might be. Or rather, he did not wish to. For she could not be expecting anything other than villainy from him.

He was the Dark One, after all.

Yes, yes! The Darkness shrilled again. Why fight the very nature of what we are?

Because that is not who I am, Hook protested, bringing his hand up and flicking his wrist to whisk himself away from the temptation of the woman in his bed.

~/~

"Again."

Emma ground her teeth and balled her fists, staring intently at the candles in front of her, willing them to spark.

"No, no, no!" Hook admonished, prowling at the end of the room with agitated paces, clearly as frustrated as she was by her lack of progress.

"You cannot hope to tap into your magic using dark or negative feelings. Whatever your grounding emotion is, it must be anchored in goodness. Positive emotions, like love or joy or something equally as… precious."

Emma was tired of hearing it; of how magic originated within the heart and therefore had a grounding emotion unique to the wielder. About how, since she was the bearer of light magic, her power must be sourced through virtuous inclinations, unlike his which was fueled by anger and vengeance. It was all he'd spoken of since their lesson began many hours ago, and at this point, Emma was quite certain she wouldn't be able to manifest any positive feelings if her life depended on it.

This was not how she'd hoped the day would go when he'd finally - after several days of secluding himself in his workshop, avoiding her ever since she'd woken to find him standing over her, his fingers brushing over the bareness of her breast and stirring passions she'd longed given up on experiencing before he realized she was awake and had disappeared in a cloud of red vapor - told her it was time they resumed her lessons. It was clear, from his stern demeanor and gruff instruction that the night they last saw one another was not a subject they'd be discussing, and Emma was, quite frankly relieved as she still had not come to terms with her body's response to his touch, nor the continued effect his mere presence had on her.

Although, right now, the effect was stirring her ire more than her ardor, causing her to lash out.

"Well, maybe if you gave me something positive to concentrate on rather than berating me, I could light these candles instead of imagining one of them shoved up your-"

"Enough!" he bellowed, stalking towards her with an unnatural flicker in his features. "It is clear to me now that all this potential is wasted on you." As soon as he was in arms reach, his hand plunged into her chest and Emma gasped. His fingers curled around her heart, gripping it tight as he snarled, "I'll just have to see to the matter myself."

With a firm tug, he attempted to pull her heart free for her chest, but a rush of power roared through her, bursting outward in a pulse of blinding light. The force of it threw Hook clear across the room and glass rained down from the shattered windows, blown out by the pulse of magic that had not only succeeded in safe guarding her heart, but lit every candle within the room as well.

A deluge of emotions ran through Emma as she stood stupefied within the center of the room. Shock, anger, elation, and finally… fear. Fear of what he might do, how he might react to having been hurled several meters though the air until his body slammed into a solid wall and crumpled into a heap upon the stone floor. She braced herself as he groaned and rolled onto his back, waiting for his rage, for the temper she knew he kept a tight rein on, only allowing a small measure of it to boil over when he was angry, releasing some of the pressure so he would not erupt fully, potentially decimating anything unlucky enough to be in his proximity when and if that catastrophic event occurred.

As it might be about to do so now.

However, it was not a roar of rage that rumbled through his chest as he lay on the floor, surveying the damage she'd done. No. It was… laughter. A full bodied, rich and unrestrained laugh shook his chest and shoulders as he picked himself up off the floor.

Wagging his finger, he sauntered back towards her with a wide grin on his face. "I knew you had it in you, love," he praised. His words and demeanor made Emma more wary and on-guard than if he'd come at her in a tirade of fury. It took her a moment before she could relax and fully take in his pleasure, his countenance practically giddy as he crowed about the discovery they'd just made.

"What discovery?" she questioned, still a little unsettled by his reaction.

"Your grounding emotion," he beamed, and Emma couldn't help but reciprocate his smile as he went on to elaborate. "That spontaneous burst of magic confirms that your power is rooted in your need to protect, to save, to defend. I should have realized it before," he rambled on, pacing excitedly and stroking his beard with his thumb and forefinger. "Saviour magic is some of the most powerful light magic there is, because it is so selfless."

Emma startled when he suddenly advanced, stepping into her personal space. His forget-me-not eyes were wild, swirling with chaotic intent he was trying to tame and bring under some semblance of order.

"Is there anyone besides your husband that you care for?" he asked sharply.

Emma blanched and wet her lips, her mind struggling to process the question. "What?"

"Other than that infernal husband of yours, who does not deserve your affections," The quick shifts in his mood were making Emma's head spin, the mere mention of Neal causing his ire to rise once more, "is there anyone else whom you care for? Deeply care for?"

"I, uh…" Emma floundered briefly before professing, "August, I suppose?"

Hook's features hardened and his eyes narrowed. "Who is August?"

A chill ran down Emma's spine in response to his tone, and she swallowed heavily before answering. "His father, Marco, is the one who found me in the woods after I was abandoned. He raised me. August is… well, he's always been like a brother to me, and after Marco died, we were the only family either of us had… until I married Neal."

"I see," Hook replied, his shoulders relaxing as the hardened glint in his eyes softened. "Where is he now?"

Emma shrugged and tried to blink back the tears stinging her eyes. "I imagine he still lives in Misthaven, working the business he inherited from his father. But I…"

Hook reached up, intending to cup her cheek, but seemed to think better of, withdrawing his hand and offering her a comforting smile instead. "When did you last see him?"

Sniffling, Emma dropped her gaze in shame and answered, "Three springs ago. Before I married Neal."

Tilting his head to one side, he gently placed his hook under her chin and prompted her to look up at him. "Would you like to see him now?"

She gasped at the thought. Would he really take her to see him? It had been so long, would August even welcome a visit? They hadn't parted in the best of ways, arguing over her choice of husband, her choice to marry rather than pursue her gift or help him work the family business. What would he say once he discovered he'd been right all those years ago?

There was only one way to find out, she supposed.

"Yes," she nodded, tears pricking the corners of her eyes once more. "I very much wish to see him."

Waving his hand, he called forth a plume of red smoke then instructed, "Fill your mind with him. Picture him in his father's workshop, or in the home that had once been yours. Once you have that image firmly set, step into the magic and it will do the rest."

Emma did as he asked. Standing within the cyclone he'd conjured, Emma fully expected to be transported from the hall. She waited for the scent of sawdust to fill her sinuses, the soft scrape of a planer moving against wood or the tap of hammer at the end of a chisel to resonate in her ears, but only the vortex remained.

Until she felt a presence materialize behind her, followed by a startled gasp.

"Emma?"

The red smoke evaporated as she spun around, finding August standing several feet away, his eyes darting about as he tried to take in the room.

"What? How?" His expression was more than she could have hoped for: elated, wistful, welcoming. "Is it… is it really you?"

"It's me," Emma replied, choking back a happy sob. "August, I…"

Words failed her, but he seemed to know already, nodding his head and taking a step towards her with open arms. Emma was about to rush to him when Hook made his way towards them, stalling her steps as she watched his approach. August, too, stopped and turned his attention to the hook wielding man, an inquiry poised on his tongue that never made it past his lips.

The action was swift and precise. The gleam of his hook shone in the candlelit filled room before it plunged into August's gut, twisting with little resistance and tearing open his flesh. Blood spilled to the floor, preceding the collapse of his body onto the hard, stone surface.

"No!" Emma screamed, rushing forward and falling to her knees beside a gasping and sputtering August, his face pale and eyes wide as he stared at her in frightful confusion. With trembling hands, Emma covered the wound, her stomach turning at the sight, and shouted at the Dark One.

"Why? Why have you done such a thing?"

Hook's expression was void of all emotion. Lazily, he flicked his eyes from the injury he'd just inflicted up to her gaze and simply instructed, "So you can heal him."

"Heal him?!" she shrieked. "You have practically eviscerated him! How am I supposed to heal this? I have no training as a healer!"

Hook growled, a snarl curling his lip as he crouched down beside her. "Not with conventional means," he admonished. "Use your magic. Protect him. Save him."

"But, I…" Angry tears laced with fear welled in her eyes. "I don't know how. I can't even light a candle! How am I supposed to use my magic to heal him?"

August contorted beneath her hands, screams of pain she hadn't even registered echoing within the room as he begged her for help.

"I can't!" Emma wailed. "I can't. Please," she implored Hook, still looking impassive, crouched down only inches from her. "You do it! You heal him. Please, don't let him die!"

His bored brows rose infuriatingly up his forehead. "If I healed him, there would be a price to pay. Do you really wish to curse him that way when you, yourself, have the power to heal him… no strings attached?"

A smirk twitched at his lips, one Emma would analyze later. For now, she had to focus. Somehow she had to save August's life. She just wished she knew how.

Hook covered her blood soaked hands with his and drew her eyes to him. "Remember, love. Magic is emotion," he murmured with a firm intensity in his forget-me-not eyes. "You must ask yourself, Why am I doing this? Who am I protecting? Feel it, love. Let that compulsion fill you, then channel it." He gave her hands a small squeeze before removing his and assuring her with a confidence no one had ever bestowed upon her, "You can do this."

Taking in a shaking breath, Emma did as he instructed. Closing her eyes, she tried to tune out August's pained cries and the feel of his blood oozing past her fingers, so she could focus on the desperation she felt, the deep-seated desire to heal him and make him whole. Something began to bloom within her chest, a warmth that began to spread outward until it flooded down her arms and pooled beneath her palms.

"That's it, love," Hook murmured into her ear, prompting her to open her eyes and watch as a white glow emitted from her hands and began to knit August's flesh back together. Her shock caused the glow of magic to dim and August grunted once more in pain. "Focus," Hook demanded with a curt, clipped tone, forcing Emma to clamp her eyes shut once more and fall back into the emotion fueling her power.

It was like a long buried instinct, the ability to commune with forces that moments ago felt so far beyond her reach was suddenly at her fingertips. Raw, wild energy conformed to her bidding, its potency filling her with a surge she fought to control and bring into submission while surrendering to the primal sensations its efforts left in their wake. Her shoulders slumped under the weight of Hook's hand, and wearily, she pried her eyes open. Removing her hands, the sight of August's umarred abdomen forced a shocked inhale to momentarily seize her lungs.

Sitting up, August ran his hands over his torso. Finding no evidence of the lethal wound he'd received, his eyes snapped up to Emma's.

"What the hell?"

"I-I…" Emma stammered, her mouth opening and closing as she desperately tried to form some sort of response while her mind wrestled with what had occurred and her body quivered from the aftermath of her actions.

"Well done, love," Hook crooned in her ear, his hand moving from her shoulder to the back of her neck where his fingers lightly brushed the skin beneath her hairline, causing a flush of heat to break out over her flesh. "I told you you could do it."

What began as a swell of desire - her body's typical response to his touch - quickly shifted to a surge of rage, and before she could think better of it, Emma shoved Hook hard until he was once more sprawled upon the stone floor.

"How could you?" she shouted, scrambling to her feet and pulling August up with her. "How could you do such a thing!"

Forcing August behind her, she let loose on the still prone and stunned looking Dark One who was looking up at her incredulously. "He could have died! I wasn't ready… I-I… what if I hadn't been able to do it?"

Emma's hands shook with fury and fright over the prospect of her failure. "You have no idea what his death would have done to me! How much would have been left unresolved between us! The regret I would have had to live with!"

Tears spilled over her lashes and her throat burned from both her shouts and sobs as she gave over to hysterics, vaguely aware the Dark One was now standing and gazing at her with concern deeply etched between his brows.

"He could have died," she carried on, her body trembling from fear and anger and exhaustion and something… something wholly unexpected and out of place within the context of her other emotions. "He could have died and I would have never been able to tell him how sorry-"

"Hey, hey. Emma, shhh," August soothed, spinning her around to face him. His hands, worn and rough from his years of carving and shaping wood, cupped her face, tilting it up so he could capture her gaze with his. "I'm alright," he assured her. "You saved me." A soft smile spread over his lips, one Emma reciprocated as she reached up to touch his face before burying herself in the comforting affection of his embrace.

"I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he whispered into her hair. When she pulled back, her retort poised on her tongue, he gave her the same lovingly stern look Marco always had, and admonished, "Nothing. It was a long time ago and I was just as at fault." Pulling her back into his arms, he added, "None of it matters now. All that matters is that I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, mate" the Dark One clipped.

A swirl of crimson enveloped August, his solid form practically dissolving within Emma's arms as he was whisked away before Emma could do anything to stop it. Whirling around she launched herself at Hook, beating against his chest with both fists.

"Why?" she screamed angrily. "Why would you-"

"He had served his purpose, therefore his presence was no longer required," Hook replied in a deathly low tone as he subdued her by forcing her arms down by her sides and wrapping his own securely around her.

"Served his purpose?" she practically shrieked in his face, their bodies pressed flush against each other's. "What purpose, other than your demented idea of training?"

"My apologies if you find my methods distasteful," he growled, his chest heaving and his face contorting from the pent up rage he was doing his best to control at having his means questioned. "But seeing as how your magic is fueled by a desire to protect, I'm not sure how you intend to save something unless it is first put in peril."

"There has to be another way," she argued. "There has to be a way for me to learn without subjecting people to harm."

The hold he had on her lightened a touch, but she remained bound in his arms as he imparted, "Eventually, you'll be able to draw upon your magic at will and wield it as though it were an extension of yourself, like another extremity. Before that can occur, you must become intimately acquainted with it. Plumb the depths of it and overcome all fear at the prospect of brandishing such power. You must wear it as a second skin, breathe it in as you do the air and let it infuse your blood. But," he paused, the hard crack of the t against his tongue reverberating between them, "the only way to accomplish all of that is to accept both the source and the limitations of its capacity, which means… it must first be channeled through the grounding emotion that anchors it to your heart. Protection."

Emma swallowed heavily and wet her lips, trying not to notice the way his eyes fell to her mouth and darkened in hue. "What if I don't want to learn that way?" she protested weakly. Though much of her fight had begun to wane, she didn't want him to know that, so she stiffened her posture and demanded, "What if I don't want to learn at the expense of others?"

"You are under no obligation to remain," he whispered, his breath warm and soft where it brushed against her skin. "If you wish to put an end to your lessons, then you are free to leave at any time."

Emma flicked her gaze up to his, and jut out her chin. "Maybe I will."

A smile curled at the corners of his mouth and an amused, if not smug sounding hum vibrated up the back of his throat. "No, you won't."

"Oh? What makes you so sure-"

"Because, love," he crooned, a sultry purr humming around each word while his eyes roamed over her features. "You liked the taste. The power is intoxicating, isn't it? I can still feel it thrumming through your veins, its effect coloring your skin like the remnants of a lover's kiss. It has awakened something inside you and even now you long to feel its caress against your soul, wish to unleash the savagery of its untamed essence even though you know you cannot yet control it… which only heightens the temptation for you." He cocked his head to one side, his teeth gripping his bottom lip as his brows raised in a taunting fashion. "Tell me I'm wrong."

Emma's breath stuttered. He wasn't wrong.