Bethany Atazadeh - The Secret Gift

THE SECRET GIFT

Copyright 2021 by Bethany Atazadeh

All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

For information contact : https://www.bethanyatazadeh.com

Cover design by Stone Ridge Books

Formatting Template : Derek Murphy

First Edition: September 2021

GRACE HOUSE PRESS

Copyright 2021 by Bethany Atazadeh

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BETHANY ATAZADEH

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THE STOLEN KINGDOM

THE JINNI KEY

THE CURSED HUNTER

THE ENCHANTED CROWN

THE SECRET GIFT

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CHAPTER 1

L ETS HOPE YOU NEVER develop that garbage Gift your mother had, my father grumbled after his second cup of mead. He was getting an early start tonight. That woman thought she could use me to hide her shifting? Ill tell you what, in the end, I used her Gift to my advantage far more than she ever the rest was too muffled to hear, but it was no doubt the same litany of complaints Id heard every night since I could remember.

He tossed his empty drink in my direction.

I didnt bother to duck. The wooden cup bounced harmlessly across the stone floor only halfway across the room, dribbling liquid onto the surface that was now covered in stains.

Jezebel. Another, he mumbled, closing his eyes and burrowing deeper into his Lacklore-hide chair. He draped his arms over the bear-like paws, claws still sharp, and leaned back beneath the ox-like head where it was stuffed and set into the tall back of the chair.

Growing up, I used to whine that he could take care of himself. Without fail, he would point to his legsthose legs that started out like any other Jinni male, but transformed into the legs of a goat. Hoofs and all. A permanent gift from my mother. Or, in this case, a curse.

Yes, father. I lifted my chin and obeyed, bringing him a third full cup, setting it on the table beside him. My hand shook slightly. Straining against the desire to slam it down or scream at him, I kept my face serene, not revealing any hint of my feelings.

Sometimes I secretly wondered how my mother had stopped at the legs alone.

Our home was small. Only a few steps to get back to the sink, where I continued to slowly do the dishes. If I looked too idle, itd encourage him to focus his bitter diatribe on me.

I stared out the kitchen window, past the faded blue curtains, at the street below where my few friends gathered. Asher waved when he saw me, but I couldnt wave back without giving myself away. Pressing my lips together in a pained smile, though he was too far below to see, I wished I was with them.

Other Jinn my age had mentors after their discipline years ended. As their Gifts manifested between the ages of fifteen to twenty-two, someone with similar Gifts would take them on and train them in how to use them. How to be a lethal weapon or a benefactor or anything in-between.

I was only seventeen, so some would say I still had time.

My secret Gift was still fairly new. Itd manifested a few short months ago, after Id finished my discipline years. Thankfully, no one else was aware. And I, for the most part, was too terrified to use it.

Still, Id never have a mentor because no one could know my true Gifts. My mother had made that clear.

Just five years old when shed left, Id gripped her short skirts and wrapped myself around her tall sandaled legs. Please dont leave, mama.

I have to, darling, shed said, ruthlessly prying me off of her before retying the laces and strapping on her ornamental breastplate. When you have Gifts like mine, thats all anyone can see. The royal family fears this Gift and wants to take control of my abilities, as your father did. She stood. Im not going to let them.

But papa loves you, Id cried.

He loves my Gift, shed snapped, bending down again to face me. And I plan to break him of that. Her grip on my shoulders hurt as she shook me slightly. Always remember this: dont share your Gifts with anyone, Jezebel. People will use them and use you. Better to keep them for yourself. Shed stood, brushing off her hands as if brushing me off for the final time. If I could go back in time, Id keep mine a secret. Then we would see who truly loved me.

If she wouldve known that Id develop the same Gift as her years later, would she have stayed? Or better yet, would she have taken me with her? I still didnt know the answer to that, but Id never forgotten those words. Part of me wanted to believe she was wrong. The burning question came back as it always did: if I showed my true self to someone, would it change how they saw me? Would they still love me?