Seris POV
"An army?" My voice comes out small and scared. "Coming here? Because of me?"
Vaelor's gray eyes are hard as stone. "Yes."
Guilt crashes over me like a wave. Four guards already dead. More assassins escaped. And now an army is coming because someone wants me badly enough to start a war.
"Then I should leave." I step backward. "I'll go far away. Somewhere they can't find me. Then your pack will be safe—"
"You'll be dead within a day." Vaelor's voice is flat. Cold. "You can barely walk without stumbling. Your power is unstable. You have no money, no allies, no training. How exactly do you plan to survive?"
"I don't know!" My hands start heating up. I clench them into fists, trying to stop the flames. "But I can't stay here and get more people killed!"
"So your plan is to run until they catch you? Then what? Let them torture you for information about your bloodline? Let them steal your power and use it to destroy entire packs?" Vaelor takes a step closer. "That's not noble, Seris. That's just giving up."
"What else am I supposed to do?" Tears burn my eyes. "I didn't ask for this! I didn't ask to be a—a Flamebinder or whatever you called it! I just wanted to live a normal life!"
"Normal life?" Vaelor's laugh is bitter. "You were treated like garbage in your pack. Used by an Alpha who rejected you publicly. Burned alive by people who claimed to care about you. Was that the normal life you want to go back to?"
His words hit like punches. Because he's right. My "normal life" was hell.
"You have a choice," Vaelor says, his voice softer now. "Run and die. Or stay and learn to fight back."
"I don't know how to fight."
"Then I'll teach you." He holds out his hand. "Stay in the Ashen Reach. Under my protection. Learn to control your power. Become strong enough that no one can ever hurt you again."
I stare at his outstretched hand. "Why would you do that? You don't even know me."
"I know enough." Vaelor's expression shifts—something painful flickers across his face. "Fifteen years ago, I knew someone with rare power. People feared her. Wanted to use her. I was too young, too weak to protect her properly. They killed her in front of me."
My breath catches. "Who was she?"
"My mother." The words come out rough. "She had the ability to heal any wound, any sickness. Rival packs wanted that power. When my father refused to let them use her, they poisoned them both. I watched them die slowly, and I couldn't do anything to stop it."
Oh goddess. I suddenly understand why he's so determined to protect me. I'm not just some stranger—I remind him of the person he failed to save.
"I won't let that happen again," Vaelor says firmly. "Not to you. But I need you to choose to stay. I can't force you."
"What if I'm not strong enough?" I whisper. "What if I can't control this power?"
"Then we figure it out together." He's still holding his hand out. "I won't lie to you, Seris. The training will be hard. The assassins won't stop coming. But at least you'll have a fighting chance. Isn't that better than running scared until they catch you?"
I look at his hand. At his scarred knuckles and the strength in his fingers. This man is offering me something no one else ever has—a real chance to become strong. To stop being a victim.
But there's one thing bothering me.
"What do you get out of this?" I ask suspiciously. "Nobody helps for free. What's the price?"
Vaelor's mouth curves into a small smile. "Smart question. Yes, there's a price. If you stay, you'll owe me a debt. One favor, to be called in when I need it."
"What kind of favor?"
"I don't know yet. But when the time comes, I'll ask, and you'll deliver. That's the deal."
It sounds dangerous. Vague. Like I'm signing my life away without knowing what I'm agreeing to.
But what choice do I have? Stay and possibly become powerful enough to defend myself? Or run and definitely die?
I take his hand.
His grip is warm and steady. "You won't regret this."
"I better not," I mutter.
Vaelor helps me back inside. My legs are shaking from standing too long. Mira appears with more food and fusses over me like a mother hen.
"You need to rest," she insists. "His Majesty pushes everyone too hard. Don't let him bully you."
"I can hear you, Mira," Vaelor calls from the doorway.
"Good!" Mira shoots back. "Then hear this—she needs at least two more days of rest before you start your crazy training!"
Vaelor actually smiles—a real smile that transforms his whole face. "Fine. Two days. But then we start, and I won't go easy on her."
"Nobody expects you to," Mira grumbles.
Vaelor leaves. Mira helps me get comfortable in bed and sits beside me.
"So you're really staying?" she asks.
"Looks like it."
"Good." Mira grins. "It'll be nice having another girl around. This place is way too full of testosterone."
I can't help but smile back. Maybe this won't be so bad. Maybe I can actually do this.
But that night, I have nightmares.
I dream of the pyre. Of Corwin's face as he lights the torch. Of Lyria's fake tears. Of burning alive over and over and over.
I wake up screaming, my hands erupting in flames. The bed catches fire instantly.
"Seris!" Mira bursts through the door with Vaelor right behind her. They both stop short, staring at the burning bed.
I scramble backward, but the flames follow me. They're spreading up the walls now, silver fire consuming everything.
"I can't stop it!" I gasp. "I don't know how—"
Vaelor strides through the flames like they're nothing. He grabs my wrists firmly. "Look at me. Focus on my voice."
"I can't—"
"Yes, you can." His gray eyes lock onto mine. "Breathe. Pull the fire back inside. You control it, not the other way around."
I try. I really try. But the panic is too strong. The flames grow hotter, bigger.
"Vaelor, the whole room is going to collapse!" Kael shouts from the doorway.
Vaelor doesn't let go of me. "Seris. Trust me. Pull it back."
Something in his voice cuts through my panic. I close my eyes and PULL. The flames hesitate. Flicker.
"Good. Keep going."
I pull harder. The fire slowly retreats, flowing back toward me, back into my skin. It hurts. Burns from the inside. But finally, the last flame disappears.
The room is destroyed. Walls blackened. Bed reduced to ash. But at least it's not burning anymore.
I collapse forward. Vaelor catches me easily, holding me against his chest. I'm shaking so hard my teeth chatter.
"I almost killed everyone," I whisper.
"But you didn't." His hand rubs my back in small circles. "You controlled it. That's progress."
"That's progress?" I look up at him. "I destroyed a room!"
"Yes. But you also stopped before anyone got hurt." He helps me stand. "Tomorrow, we start training earlier than planned. Clearly, waiting isn't an option."
The next morning, Mira brings me to a different room—this one made entirely of stone with no furniture at all. "Fire-proof," she explains. "His Majesty had it prepared just in case."
I'm touched that Vaelor thought ahead. That he expected me to lose control and made sure I'd have a safe place anyway.
Training starts immediately after breakfast. Vaelor works me hard, teaching me breathing techniques, meditation, ways to channel emotion without exploding.
It's exhausting. Frustrating. I fail more than I succeed.
But slowly, over the next two weeks, I get better. I can summon small flames on command. Can hold them for several minutes before dismissing them. It's not much, but it's something.
One afternoon, Vaelor and I are practicing in the stone room when Kael bursts in, his face pale.
"Your Majesty. Emergency. You need to see this now."
We follow him to the fortress walls. He points toward the horizon.
My heart stops.
There, in the distance, I see them.
Hundreds of wolves. Maybe thousands. All marching toward the Ashen Reach in perfect formation.
"The army," Vaelor says quietly. "They're here."
But that's not what makes my blood run cold.
At the front of the army, riding a black horse with a banner flying above him, is a face I'd recognize anywhere.
Alpha Corwin.
My rejected mate. The man who burned me alive.
He's leading the army that's come to take me back.