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For anyone who has ever been told their spark shouldn’t burn so bright and for all the people who loved them precisely because it did.
If I’d had the courage to step forward into the dark alley that day and hear the words that the handsome, scar-bearing stranger whispered into my mother’s ear, perhaps one of us—or all of us—might have died a great deal sooner.
And so it’s there that my story begins.
In the old mortal religions, a blood sun was said to be a warning from the gods, a harbinger of great upheaval.
“That blood sun was the day of my birth.” Her eyebrows rose. “Was it really?” I nodded. “His greatest joy is reminding me every chance he gets.” Even the gods knew you would be a pain in the ass, Teller would say with a grin before fleeing out of my reach.
It’s never the enemy who attacks outright who will strike your killing blow, he’d taught me. It’s the one who hides in the shadows and waits. The one who strikes when you’ve finally looked away. Those are the true predators to fear.
“You don’t give me orders, Auralie.” “Need I remind you that one word from me and the entire realm will know that you—” “No,” he snapped. “I’ve already paid your extortion ten times over.” “And you’ll keep paying it until lives are no longer in danger.”
“Those eyes—a gift from your father, aren’t they? Your real father.” I froze.
“And it appears the Kindred are done waiting.”
“He knows about you, your father. He’s waiting for you.” “My sire, not my father,” I corrected between clenched teeth. “And he’s dead.”
“Listen to me and listen close, Daughter of the Forgotten.” She leaned forward and poked me in the shoulder. “Stop running from who you are. Stop hiding.”
“When forgotten blood on heartstone falls, then shall the chains be broke,” she crooned. “Life for life, old debt requires, or eternal be his yoke.”
“Blessed Forging, Diem Bellator!” she cried. “Let’s hope it’s not your last.”
More days passed with no answers. Then weeks. Then months. And still... she did not come home.
“When it comes to matters of the heart, even smart men can make reckless decisions. Dangerous decisions.”
“The palace... there’s been an accident—children are hurt. Several. Please—please come with me.”
As Elric led me away, something hit me about the air in the room—something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It felt heavy in an oddly sentient way, like the heft of it pressed against my skin, exploring me, assessing me.
“I—I’m Lily,” she stammered. “You may call her Princess Lilian,” the man corrected, still boring a hole through me with his stare. Realization barreled into me. Lily—Princess Lilian. The very same girl my brother had blushed at the mention of.
Him. It was him.
For months, I’d scoured Mortal City for clues that might lead me to the Descended man I’d seen arguing with my mother the day she disappeared. And now, here he was, inches away—the one person with the answers I sought.
“I’m sorry about your mother,” Lily said. “I hope she’s found soon.”
He knew. Somehow, I felt certain—he knew what happened to my mother. He had to know.
A soft glow spilled from beneath the blood-soaked gauze at my palms. On some instinct I couldn’t understand, I hunched my body over hers to hide it. Was this Lily’s Descended magic taking effect? It had to be—didn’t it?
The wound was gone. Not closed—not healing. Gone. As if it had never happened.
“If you value that hand, you’d best remove it from my arm,” I warned.
Life after Auralie Bellator. Five minutes, I conceded. You get five minutes to feel sorry for yourself. Then you get up, and you get back to work.
Although the mere thought of Umbros sent chills down my spine, some wild, adventurous part of me stirred at the prospect of exploring its wicked secrets.
The man I’d been searching for all this time was Prince Luther. Teller’s-crush’s-older-brother Luther. Man-whose-hand-I-threatened-to-slice-off Luther. Soon-to-be-King-of-Lumnos Luther.
“It’s just...” She trailed off, frowning. “Descended bones are strong. Stronger even than iron. Mortals don’t have the strength to move them.” That couldn’t be right. I had clearly felt the girl’s bone shift under my hands and heard the crunch as it slid into place.
One by one, I hurled the moon-shaped jars into the sea. One by one, they hit the waves and sank forever to a watery grave.
I said a prayer to the Old Gods to make me ready for whatever lay beyond.
“Or perhaps I’ll just have to make you my enemy.” I reached back and palmed the blade that hung on his hip before moving down his muscled thigh. “In that case, I surrender now.” He pulled me against his hips until I could feel exactly what part of him he intended to surrender.
Though I still cared for him as deeply as I ever had, I was no longer the laughing, carefree girl he had fallen for—and when I looked in his eyes, I struggled to find the tender-hearted boy I’d once known.
“Do we really need it?” he murmured against my throat. “Who are we to interfere with the Old Gods’ blessings?” My lust cooled slightly as I shot him a sharp look. “If that’s how you feel, then...” I started to climb off him, and he groaned as he grabbed my hips to pull me back.
But I was made of swinging fists and rash words, my edges too jagged and my temper too hot. Nothing about me was delicate.
And I didn’t want gentle or delicate. I wanted to burn.
sleep, I stared at the depthless midnight sky, my thoughts as turbulent as they’d ever been, and I burned and I burned and I burned. And I wondered how long I had until the fire in my soul burned me alive.
My entire body trembled violently. What was I thinking? A few weeks without symptoms, and I’d believed myself cured forever? I’d been so unforgivably hasty.
According to the old mortal religion, all life began as sparks from the Everflame that fell to the earth as glowing seeds. At death, those found worthy by the Old Gods would be placed among its burning branches, where their earthly bodies would turn to ash but their souls would remain forever warmed by the Undying Fire. Those found unworthy were doomed to an eternity in a cold hell encased in ice, far from the Everflame’s redeeming heat.
The border. I’d felt the sensation just as we’d crossed it. “Magic,” I breathed. My shoulders sagged in relief.
Magic. I had hallucinated that I had magic.
I’d hoped, somehow, that it would not pass to you, she’d told me in a voice soaked with despair, but don’t you worry, my little warrior. I will protect you. I will not let you end up like him.
“The red powder—why is it so regulated?” Leona’s weary eyes turned up to me. Her lips pressed into a razor thin line. “It’s time for you to leave.” Her meaning was clear: the conversation was over. Not just for today—forever.
“Merely knowing that powder exists is enough for the Crown to order your execution, girl. I don’t know what that mother of yours was up to down in Lumnos, but you need to stay far away from it.”
Unlike the vivid hallucinations of my childhood, which had felt lucid and entirely real, this seemed more like a glimpse into something vague, something possible. Not a reality that was, but a fate that could be.
There, on his forearm, in stark lines engraved on pale skin, was a vine-encircled flaming tree. The Everflame—the same tattoo I’d seen on Henri’s shoulder.
Henri had lied to me. I’d asked him directly about the tattoo’s meaning, and he’d lied to me. To honor the Old Gods, he’d said. Honor the Old Gods, my ass.
We call ourselves the Guardians of the Everflame.”
The voice kept demanding that I fight. Maybe instead of fighting someone, what I needed was something to fight for.