Flame’s Breath (Arcane Response Coven #1)

1. Dante

1

Dante

“ M ove it, people!” Dante Reed shouted through the chaos, flames reflecting in his amber eyes as he surged forward. Heat rippled through the air, scorching and relentless, but it only sharpened his focus. A quick flick of his wrist sent a stream of fire curling toward a blazing storefront, diverting the flames before they could spread.

“Blaze, hold position!” Lucas cracked through the comms. “We’re supposed to coordinate, not freelance.”

Dante shot a glance over his shoulder, annoyance tightening his expression. “You see those flames creeping toward the hydrant? Want to give a lecture, or should I stop it?”

Lucas Rhodes stood several feet back, orange lightning sparking around his hands. His spiky blond hair caught the light from the flames, giving him a sharper edge, though his clear blue eyes were focused and calculating. Thin but agile, he moved with the precision of someone who knew how to strike fast, the energy coiled in his frame, waiting to be unleashed. A friend, sure, but a pain in the ass on missions, always harping on coordination and control.

“Just don’t get yourself killed playing hero,” he barked, his jaw tightening as the crackling electricity around him grew louder.

“Relax, Volt,” Dante said, his smirk flashing as he turned back toward the blaze. “I’ve got this.”

The comms crackled. “Focus, team. This isn’t a solo performance. Volt, take Branch to the north perimeter and lock it down. Blaze, suppression only—do not engage anything without backup. Copy?” Orion said.

Orion Bennett was calm, as always, but there was no mistaking the authority behind it. Coordinating from the mobile command vehicle parked a few blocks away, he was overseeing the mission through the various feeds relayed to HQ. As ARC’s team leader, it was his job to keep them alive—and in line.

Dante suppressed a sigh, heat rolling off the blaze as he acknowledged. “Copy, Wraith. Suppression only.”

ARC—short for Arcane Response Coven—wasn’t the usual magical enforcement team. They didn’t handle mundane rogue mages or low-tier magical disturbances. No, their job was tackling the kind of threats that made ordinary civilians—and even some mages—run the other way. Like now, when an ordinary fire department couldn’t deal with flames that resisted water and grew back stronger the more they burned. Fires like this were usually tied to some idiot mage experimenting with forbidden rituals or someone deliberately trying to cause chaos. Either way, ARC had to clean it up.

Dante glanced over at Lucas, who was barking something at Aiden over the comms, the orange lightning crackling around his hands, making him look like a walking thunderstorm. Lucas was quick, tactical, and every bit the lightning mage he was known for, but fire wasn’t exactly something his powers could extinguish. Aiden’s plant-based magic had better odds, but neither was the perfect counter for the blazing inferno threatening to swallow the block whole.

And that’s where Dante came in. Fire suppression wasn’t just his specialty—it was his element, the one thing he could bend and shape with the kind of precision no one else on the team could match. Usually, that precision came with a little heat of its own as complaints from his teammates, Lucas especially.

“Copy that.” Lucas sent one last look his way before heading toward Aiden, who was already pulling vines up through cracks in the pavement to corral stray flames.

Dante exhaled, shrugging off Lucas’s complaints as he summoned another wave of fire to redirect the inferno. His flames twisted and wove with precision, forcing the chaotic blaze into tighter, more manageable sections. Moments like this, with fire roaring and chaos swirling, were where he felt most alive.

“North side’s almost secure,” Aiden said over comms. “Vines are holding steady.” On missions, his quiet demeanor sharpened into something almost unrecognizable. Usually introverted and hesitant, Aiden became laser-focused when it counted, his magic weaving through the madness with unerring precision. It was a stark contrast to the man who often seemed more at ease talking to greenery than people.

“Good,” Orion replied. “Keep at it. Tide, status on the west?”

“Water flow’s steady,” Tristan said. He had that way about him—steady when things were at their worst, always the counterbalance to chaos. His water magic was precise, reliable, and exactly what they needed right now to keep the west side from going up in flames.

“We’ll have it handled before dinner,” Tristan added.

Rolling his eyes at Tristan’s cockiness, Dante didn’t bother with a comeback, focusing instead on the fire in front of him. Something about the blaze felt…off.

“Something’s wrong,” Lucas said. “This fire’s…it’s not natural.”

His jaw tightened. He’d felt it too—that strange, crawling energy threading through the flames. The way it twisted and fought against his control wasn’t normal. Fire always obeyed him—except now, it felt alive, resisting his magic like it had a will of its own.

“This isn’t working,” Dante barked as sweat rolled down his temple.

“No shit,” Lucas snapped back.

A low growl rumbled in his chest as the fire continued to spread, roaring higher despite his efforts. No matter how precisely he directed his magic, the blaze seemed to twist and shift, feeding off itself in unnatural ways.

But before he could voice a snarky comeback, a shadow flickered at the edge of his vision, moving unnaturally through the blaze. At first, he thought it was a trick of the light, the way flames danced and wove unpredictably. But no—there it was again, a shadow slipping unnaturally through the fire, too deliberate to be random.

“Wraith,” Dante said, “we’ve got movement. Could be civilians, but…I don’t think so.”

“Hold position,” Orion ordered. “Volt, check it out. Blaze, keep suppressing. Do not engage.”

Lucas jogged to his side, his expression tense as he scanned the blaze. “You sure you’re not just seeing things?”

“Trust me,” Dante said, his jaw tightening. “Something’s in there.”

Before Lucas could reply, the flames parted, and a figure emerged. Cloaked in swirling embers, the rogue mage’s presence felt almost tangible, a weight pressing down on the air. They stood unnervingly still, their face obscured by a hood, but the glint of their eyes beneath it sent a chill down his spine.

“Well, well,” the rogue said. “Look what the Ministry sent. ARC, is it? How predictable.”

“Identify yourself!” Lucas barked, lightning sparking around his clenched fists. “You’re trespassing on public land and endangering civilians.”

The rogue tilted their head, as if considering the demand. “Amusing,” they said. “But I’m afraid introductions will have to wait.”

With a flick of their wrist, the air around them shifted. The fire surged upward, swirling violently before condensing into a singular, monstrous shape. The flames coalesced into a towering figure—a fire elemental, its molten eyes glaring down at Dante and Lucas as it let out a guttural roar.

“Of course,” Dante muttered, his grip tightening. “Why wouldn’t it be an elemental?”

“Stay focused,” Lucas said, orange lightning crackling to life in his hands. “And try not to piss it off.”

“No promises,” Dante replied, summoning a wave of fire to counter the elemental’s first swing. The impact sent sparks flying, heat radiating outward in a suffocating wave.

Lucas darted to the side as he hurled a bolt of lightning toward the elemental’s core. It struck, momentarily disrupting the flames, but the creature only roared louder, its form regenerating instantly.

“Not working!” Lucas yelled.

“Yeah, I noticed!” Dante snapped, dodging a flaming tendril that lashed out toward him. He retaliated with a sharp burst of his own fire, trying to outmaneuver the elemental rather than overpower it.

The rogue mage remained motionless, their calm demeanor unshaken as they observed the chaos. “You’re out of your depth,” they said through the roar of the flames like a blade. “This is only the beginning.”

Dante gritted his teeth, his pulse pounding as he struggled to keep the elemental contained. “We need backup,” he said. “Wraith, this thing’s not going down easy. Elemental on-site—need reinforcements.”

“Hold your ground,” Orion replied. “Tide is en route. Keep it contained until they arrive.”

“Sure,” Dante muttered under his breath, narrowly dodging another fiery swipe. “We’ll just hang out with our new friend here.”

“Blaze,” Lucas growled, his own lightning surging again as he aimed for the elemental’s legs. “Less talking, more fighting.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Dante shot back, launching himself into another fiery exchange.

The rogue mage vanished into the blaze, their figure dissolving like smoke into the inferno’s glow. His teeth clenched as the elemental surged forward, its molten limbs tearing through the air with violent precision.

“Any time now, Tide,” Dante muttered, his flames keeping the creature at bay as Lucas’s lightning struck its base, slowing its advance but failing to stop its relentless regeneration.

“On my way,” Tristan said through the comms.

“Not fast enough!” Dante pivoted, unleashing another controlled blast of fire that barely managed to redirect the elemental’s strike.

“Just keep it distracted!”

The ground beneath them shuddered as the elemental roared, its molten form swelling with renewed intensity.

“Blaze, Volt, hold position,” Orion said. “Tide’s almost there. Keep it contained.”

Before Dante could respond, a surge of water crashed into the flames, hissing, and steaming as it coiled around the elemental’s fiery limbs. Tristan’s arrival was marked by the controlled flow of his magic, his sapphire hair streaked with soot as he stepped into the fray.

“Finally,” Dante said, his muscles burning with the effort to keep his flames from spiraling out of control.

“Damn thing’s regenerating faster than I can keep up,” Tristan said, his jaw tight with focus as the water spiraled tighter around the creature.

Aiden cut in over the comms. “West side’s holding, but it won’t last if that thing keeps going. I can only stabilize this structure for so much longer.”

“Stay on it, Branch,” Orion orders. “We need that perimeter locked down. Blaze, suppression only. Volt, provide backup for containment.”

His flames shot toward the elemental, twisting through the air to redirect its molten limbs as Tristan’s water surged in tandem. The creature roared, thrashing against the relentless torrent, but its fiery mass refused to falter. Dante gritted his teeth, sweat beading on his forehead as the heat radiated back at him, unrelenting.

“Damn thing’s feeding off its own energy,” Tristan called out, his sapphire hair damp from the steam rising around them. “I can slow it, but I can’t snuff it out.”

“Hold it steady!” Dante growled, flames licking at his hands as he launched another burst to contain the creature’s reach.

The elemental retaliated with a swipe of molten fire, forcing Tristan to counter with a spiraling wall of water. The clash hissed and steamed, but the elemental’s core burned brighter, its molten limbs reforming instantly.

“This isn’t working,” Dante muttered, frustration curling in his chest. “We need something stronger.”

Orion said through the comms, “Blaze, Tides, fall back. I’m stepping in.”

Dante turned just as Orion approached, his silver hair glinting in the firelight. His presence was an anchor amidst the chaos, the glow of spirit energy weaving around him like a second skin. Tristan pulled back, his water magic coiling defensively at his side.

“You’ve got the flames,” Orion said, locking eyes with Dante. “But this thing’s soul is what’s driving it. Let me handle that.”

Dante hesitated, his flames flickering at his palms. “It’s too strong—”

“That’s why you’re falling back,” Orion interrupted, raising his hand. The glow of spirit energy intensified, threads of shimmering light extending toward the elemental.

Reluctantly, Dante stepped back, his gaze locked on Orion as he advanced. The threads of spirit magic wrapped around the elemental’s core, tightening like a net. The creature bucked and roared but slowed under Orion’s magic.

Tristan rejoined the effort, directing another wave of water to douse the flames licking at its limbs. Steam hissed violently, creating a haze around the battleground, but the elemental’s fiery glow dimmed.

“Keep it suppressed,” Orion instructed. The spirit energy glowed brighter, piercing the creature’s core.

Dante clenched his fists, watching as the elemental’s thrashing weakened. Between Orion’s spirit magic and Tristan’s relentless water, the fiery mass finally collapsed inward. With a final guttural roar, the creature imploded, its energy dissipating into embers and ash.

“Target neutralized,” Orion said, lowering his hand.

Dante exhaled, his muscles still tense as he scanned the scorched ground where the elemental had fallen. “About time,” he said, wiping his brow.

Lucas’s said, laced with his usual sharpness as he and Aiden appeared beside him. “And that’s why he’s team leader, Blaze. Maybe take notes.”

Dante shot him a glare, heat sparking at his palms. “Don’t start.”

Orion smirked, his silver hair glinting in the dimming firelight. “Glad to know my efforts are appreciated. Good work, all of you.”

Dante grumbled something under his breath but didn’t argue, his gaze lingering on the embers scattered across the ground.

As the flames died down, Kaelen and Ezra emerged from the shadows at the edge of the scene.

Kaelen, tall and broad-shouldered with rich brown skin and dark hair streaked with sunlit gold, carried an air of calm even amidst the lingering chaos. He brushed soot from his sleeves, his sharp gaze sweeping over the area. “Civilians are clear,” he reported. “Medical’s set up two blocks over. No major casualties.”

Beside him, Ezra moved with quiet precision, his indigo-hued robes flowing like shadows around him. His piercing violet eyes flicked over the scene, assessing every detail with a calculating air. “Support teams are stabilizing the area. This block should hold for now.”

“Good.” Orion’s gaze swept over the team. He straightened, his presence steady and commanding amidst the smoldering remains of the battle. “Through magic,” he said, his voice clear and resonant.

“United,” the team responded in unison. His lips moved with the word, familiar after years on the team.

“In battle,” Orion continued, his sharp gaze locking with each of theirs.

“Steadfast,” came the reply, firm and unwavering.

“By coven,” Orion finished, his tone softer but no less powerful.

“Family,” they echoed, the word hanging in the air, heavy and unyielding.

Family. Dante shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his gaze flicking to the others before he looked away. Its weight hit a little different every time. Maybe because, no matter how often he heard it, he wasn’t entirely sure he bought it.

Orion nodded once, his gaze lingering on each of them before he turned toward the waiting vehicles. “Alright. Let’s regroup at HQ. Debrief in one hour.” The others followed, falling into step with the ease of routine, their voices low as they discussed the mission.

Dante hung back, his boots crunching against the charred ground. Something tugged at the edge of his awareness, a hum that didn’t match the crackle of dying embers. His eyes dropped to the scorched dirt near where the elemental had fallen.

Frowning, he crouched down, his fingers hovering over jagged lines etched into the ground. The marks weren’t random; they were deliberate, precise. Symbols, pulsing as though alive.

“What the hell…?” he said, glancing around to see if anyone else had noticed.

The air around him felt…different. Charged. Heavy, like it was holding its breath. Flames flickered at his fingertips, slower, dimmer than they should’ve been.

His chest tightened. Something about this didn’t feel right.

“It’s just residual magic,” Dante told himself, forcing his hand to drop back to his side. The hum at the edge of his awareness lingered, insistent, like a whisper he couldn’t quite catch.

Dante turned and strode toward the others, leaving the strange symbols behind. Whatever it was, it could wait—he had enough to deal with without chasing shadows.

Behind him, the lines in the dirt pulsed once more before fading, the energy dissipating into the charred remains of the battlefield.