Chapter 27 Violet
Violet
Alastor moved instantly, stepping in front of me. His hand settled on the hilt of his sword as his body angled just enough to block my view of the treeline beyond the house.
“And here they come,” he said.
Heat bled from the shadows beneath the trees.
The first creature stepped into the clearing slowly, its body built like a hunting dog but made entirely of living fire. Light glowed through its form like embers trapped beneath skin, its eyes burning white-hot as it lowered its head.
Another emerged beside it.
Then another.
Dogs of flame slipped between the trees one by one, their paws sinking into the forest floor and leaving scorched prints behind. Heat rolled off them in waves, curling the edges of nearby leaves as they spread outward, circling.
Behind me, metal rang softly as Sasha drew her sword.
I took an involuntary step back. “I don’t have a sword.”
“I know,” Alastor said calmly as the first creature lunged.
He was already moving.
The blade in his hand flashed in the sunlight, steel cutting clean through flame and form alike. The creature shattered the moment the sword passed through it—fire bursting outward in a violent flare before collapsing into a scatter of cooling sand.
Another replaced it immediately.
They didn’t rush all at once. They came one after another, testing, learning, circling the way predators did when they were deciding how dangerous their prey might be.
Alastor never left the space in front of me. No matter how they shifted, his body stayed between me and the snapping jaws and burning heat, his movements precise and ruthless in the way of someone who had survived worse and expected to again.
“What do I do?” I shouted as one of the creatures lunged close enough that the heat singed my skin.
“This is what you were made to do,” he said sharply without turning. “You are the Sun Sovereign. Be it.”
Another dog sprang forward, its jaws snapping inches from his throat. He twisted sideways, his blade cleaving down through its body—but more were already closing in, their growls deepening, the flames along their backs burning hotter now that they sensed resistance. My heart slammed once, hard.
The Sun Sovereign was gifted the power of air manipulation. Maybe I could use that to form a dome of protection around us like Sebastian does. Or maybe I could push them away. Or maybe if I took the air away like I did with Adar it would—
“Violet. Stop thinking and act!”
I lifted my hands and pulled, the air rushing inward violently. Flames guttered mid-snarl. The creatures staggered, their bodies destabilizing as the fire that formed them vanished in an instant. Their shapes cracked and sagged like statues whose supports had suddenly been removed.
But they didn’t retreat.
If anything, their snarls grew louder.
“Violet!” Alastor barked.
I released.
The air exploded outward in a violent shockwave that tore through the clearing.
The ground cracked beneath our feet as the force rippled outward.
Trees bent violently under the blast while sand and ash lifted into a roaring spiral.
The fire-dogs were thrown back at once, their bodies slamming into trunks and stone before shattering apart into harmless drifts of warm sand.
My arms trembled as I lowered them. The forest slowly settled again as the last embers faded into the dirt. Alastor turned then, his eyes sharp and searching. When he saw that I was still standing—still breathing—his expression eased, if only slightly.
“Good,” he said. “Now stay behind me.”
I didn’t argue.
But my power was still humming beneath my skin, wide awake and eager. It wanted more.
The door of the house opened without a sound.
“She’s home,” Alastor murmured.
I felt her before I saw her.
The presence wasn’t sharp like Sebastian’s shadows or blazing like my own power when it surged.
It was quieter than that. Older. The air itself seemed to recognize her, shifting subtly as if the entire clearing had relaxed the moment she moved.
The same awareness I’d felt in the forest deepened now, pressing gently against my skin like warm sunlight through leaves.
The Solaryns around the house turned toward the door. She was waiting.
Alastor stepped forward first, his hand still resting loosely near his sword, though he did not draw it. Inside, the house was larger than it had any right to be.
The walls curved gently, built from the same honey-colored stone.
Sunlight filtered through the space without any obvious windows, catching on small glass charms that hung from thin cords across the ceiling.
Pressed flowers floated inside clear pieces of resin that drifted slowly in the air, suspended as though time had forgotten them.
She stood near the center of the room.
Her skin glowed deep bronze beneath the soft light, etched with faint natural markings that reminded me of leaf veins and the quiet patterns wind carved across desert sand.
Her hair fell around her shoulders in a thick, white halo threaded with tiny blossoms that opened and closed slowly with each breath she took.
But it was her eyes that held me.
Gold.
Not molten like mine, but older than that. Softer. The kind of gold you only saw when sunlight passed through dust and leaves before touching the ground.
She didn’t look at Alastor.
She looked at me.
And she smiled.
“You didn’t take,” she said softly.
The words settled in the quiet space between us.
I swallowed. “I don’t want to rule like that.”
Approval flickered across her face. She crossed the room to a low stone table where several sunflowers rested in a shallow bowl of water. When she lifted one of them, its petals glowed brighter instantly, the golden light deepening until the room itself warmed with it.
A steady pulse of heat rolled outward.
Alive.
She carried it to me slowly and placed it carefully into my hands. The moment the stem touched my palm, warmth spread through my fingers and up my arms, the flower’s glow softening as though it recognized where it belonged.
“How did you know this was what I came for?” I asked.
“That,” she said gently, “is the only reason I have visitors.”
I looked down at the Solaryn in my hands, my throat tightening unexpectedly. “Thank you.”
Her fingers brushed lightly against mine as she released the stem.
The touch was barely there.
Light as pollen.
“Consider this a welcome home gift.”