Rhea's hands glowed faintly, a soft heat radiating as the water began to warm, tiny bubbles forming at the edges. Freya's fingers shimmered with frost, countering the rising temperature, the water settling into a steady warmth. The thermometer flickered—73 degrees, 74. 75. 76, holding steady.
"You're heating too much," Freya said, her voice clipped, her eyes flicking to Rhea. "Simmer down."
Rhea's jaw tightened, but she eased back, the glow in her hands dimming. The temperature dropped—70 degrees, stable again.
"Now you're too low," Freya said, her tone sharp, her frost diminishing slightly.
Rhea's amber eyes flashed, her voice rising with irritation.
"Stop bossing me around! You're doing nothing but bitching!" Her anger spiked, her hands flaring, and the water surged to 80 degrees in an instant, steam curling upward.
Freya yanked her hands out, the sudden shift breaking their balance.
