Chapter 27
Serafina
“Keep moving,” one of the guards mumbles from behind me, but he doesn’t touch me, none of them do, and I almost wish they would if only to see Ryjax bring them to their knees.
Or watch as I do.
It’s what they deserve for what they did to Ishla. My veins heat, but I hold the fire at bay, not wishing to expose myself in front of them again.
Hugging Ryjax’s shirt tighter to my body, I place one foot after the other until we find ourselves in a grand room lined with guards that could be mistaken for statues. They don’t move, they don’t even seem to be breathing, but I know they’re not statues because their eyes follow my every move.
Each one wears protective mesh, the same kind I saw on the man Jax had been sparring with in the training room. It’s draped over their shoulders, but the royal red of their uniform still peeks through.
Paintings fill nearly every space along the walls. Paintings of kings and queens who have long since died, but the one of the Pyro King catches my eye.
It’s the largest one in the room, nearly double the size of the others, resting just opposite of where I stand. His dark hair descends to his shoulders, and a sly smile rests on his face.
I’ve never seen a drawing of the Pyro King before, but the flames engulfing every inch of space behind him are a dead giveaway.
Impure.
Impure.
Impure.
The words from his journal play on repeat in my mind, and I angle my head, as if I could understand them. If only I look closer, look harder.
Why did the dragons think you were impure?
“Focus Serafina,” Nyxa’s words pull my attention to her, and I’m glad she’s here, I’m glad she hasn’t left me. “I would never. But I fear you are in more danger than you realize. The Pyro King is not the king you should be looking at right now.”
My jaw clenches as my eyes snag on the two massive thrones sitting in the center. Made of nothing but white marble, the chairs stand tall in the nearly empty space. And sitting in each…is a person.
One regal and stunning, perhaps the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, with warm brown skin, long lashes, and full lips. Her hair matches Jax’s and her eyes do the same.
His mother. I’m sure.
Which means beside her sits his father. The king. His white strands peek out from beneath his golden crown, and his dark eyes, contrasting drastically with his pale skin, narrow as he takes me in.
My teeth grind, and I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone more. This man, this king, condoning a society that favors a few at the expense of the many. Our world may be dying, but from what I’ve seen in my short time here, our lives do not need to be as painful as they are.
There’s more food available than the people of the villages realize. If only those living in the Imperial City were made to share.
My blood boils, but I breathe through my nose and try to focus on anything but bursting into a ball of fire.
“Will you not bow before royalty?” the king asks, his head tilting in a challenge, but I do as he says, knowing defiance couldn’t possibly do me any good.
Not now.
Maybe not ever. Not where this man is concerned.
I bow low, dipping my head and extending my arm, but I don’t say anything. Mainly because I have no idea what to say.
This is the man who Jax feared would kill me. And now I’m standing in front of him, and his facial expression says he’s planning to do exactly that.
The sound of shouting guards and gurgled screams has me jolting upright, but right as I turn to see what’s causing the commotion, the entire room goes pitch black.
Darkness.
Everywhere.
I can’t see a damn thing. For the briefest moment I feel afraid—so very afraid—but then I feel a caress, as if the darkness itself is touching me, stroking my cheek, pressing against my skin in the most tender way, and I know it’s him.
“A little dramatic, don’t you think, Son?” the king says, his voice dripping in annoyance and disdain.
The darkness disappears, and Ryjax stands in between me and his parents, his fists balled at his sides, his bare back still exposed.
“Is Ishla, okay?” I ask, forcing myself to not step in his direction, to stay put when all I want is to run to him.
“She’s okay,” he whispers, but he doesn’t look at me.
“Is this why you’ve been trying to end the trials?” the king asks, gripping the edge of his chair so hard his knuckles turn white. “Why you’ve been so relentless in your defiance of me?”
My brain feels like it’s barely functioning. Ryjax has been trying to end the trials? But what about population control? If the trials end, then how can we ensure our planet doesn’t die and all life with it?
And why didn’t he tell me? All this time…and I had no idea.
“She has nothing to do with that,” Jax says.
The king raises a brow. “Well then, who is she? Because she is not from here. Which means she shouldn’t be here. And you’ve been neglecting your duties for weeks. Has she been here all this time? Locked away in that little room of yours?”
Jax’s jaw flexes, his teeth grind, but he doesn’t respond. His father chuckles. It’s a dark and sinister sound, and my stomach sinks.
“Did you think I didn’t know about that?
” The king’s lip curls as he bares his teeth.
“I am the king. There is little I do not know. But I must say, when I instructed the guards to keep a closer eye on you, I did not expect for them to find her.” He stares at me, his eyes piercing and horrifying all at once.
“I’ll take her back to her village,” Ryjax says, his fingers curling and uncurling over and over again. “She hasn’t seen anything. She doesn’t know anything.”
“Oh, it’s far too late for that.” His father tsks, and Jax’s shoulders rise and fall. “And for the sake of the gods, son, put on a damn shirt.” The king leans back in his chair, looking far too relaxed.
“Why?” Ryjax snaps, stepping forward and turning to give his father a direct view of his back. “Does it bother you seeing your work on display?”
His…work.
He can’t possibly mean…I look at his mother, and she averts her gaze as if ashamed, and every part of me burns in the most glorious way, and I think I might kill them.
The king scoffs. “Be careful how you speak to me, boy.” He stands from his chair. “Or I might just be tempted to add to my canvas.”
Fire erupts from my fingers. The most vibrant blaze extends out in ribbons, and I can feel each of them, control each of them, as if they’re an extension of my own body, something I had no idea I could do.
And nothing hurts. Not a single muscle, not a single promise of an ache to come.
No agony, only power.
So much power.
The king steps back, his calves colliding with his throne, and it’s clear he did not know what I am and what I can do.
But he does now.
“A Pyroflame.” He gasps, his eyes widening as he takes me in. “How is that possible?”
I can barely hear him over the pressure of the burning rage screaming in my ears. The pure and unfiltered raw kind of hate that I could live in. Burn in. And die in.
My fire whips out, licking the floor a mere inch from his boots, and he looks furious.
The queen tries to stand. Gripping the edges of her chair, she begins to lift herself, her mouth falling open as if about to speak. But then the king grabs her roughly by the shoulder and shoves her back down.
She flinches.
“Are you threatening the king?” he says, and the guards all move at once, as if they’re of the same mind, forming a circle around me, getting dangerously close to my flames.
They would die for him.
I can see it in their eyes, feel it in my bones. And I’ll burn every last one of them if it means I could kill the man responsible for the pain Jax is forced to wear.
I used to wonder how it was possible for someone to control two opposing elements, to possess characteristics belonging to such opposite things.
Jax is light.
He’s the first rays of dawn cutting through the bleak shadows that used to plague my existence. He’s the warm glow that makes me feel like I can do all of the things I was told I could never do. He’s the hope in the storm that raged inside me for so long.
His ability to wield the light makes sense to me.
But the darkness he carries?
That comes from his father, from what he’s done to him, from what he’s forced him to endure, and I want him dead.
“Serafina,” Jax warns, his voice low yet demanding. “Call back your flames.” It’s a whisper. A plea. And suddenly, I’m aware of just how much danger I’m in, and this?
This isn’t helping.
But he hurt his son. The king, his father, is the one responsible for the gruesome marks on his back. And I want to paint the floor with his blood.
But I do as Jax says, and my flames disappear.
“If you do that again,” the king seethes, his nostrils flaring, “I will not only have you killed, but your entire fucking family.”
I stop breathing.
This man…this king…he’s a monster. A beast masquerading as royalty, and it’s sickening.
“But regardless, your death is imminent. Take her away,” he demands, and the guards seize my arms right as a terrified noise escapes me.
This is it.
I’m going to die.
I made it this far only for my fate to remain the same.
I look at Jax, and he looks like he’s about to tear every limb from every guard who has his hands on me.
But he doesn’t move, and my heart leaps into my chest as they drag me from the room.
I scream again, so raw and panicked and out of control. Tears sting my eyes, but I can still see the shadows lining the walls shimmer and shake, as if they’re alive.
As if they might save me.
But they don’t.
The guards don’t release their hold. We’re at the exit of the throne room, and I notice Theo as we pass. His eyebrows scrunch, his lower lip trembles.
I didn’t even realize he was there.
“Do not fear, Little Flame,” he says, his words are soft so the king and queen cannot hear. “My cousin will get you out of this.”
But then the doors to the throne room close, and a guard slams the end of his sword into my face.
The pain is searing, and my entire body sags, my legs feeling limp as they continue to drag me down the corridor, down the stairs, and into a dark and musty space.
My vision is darkening, and I can feel the blood dripping over my eye from the wound the blunt end of the blade created.
“You must fight, Fire Wielder. You do not die today. Are you listening?” Nyxa’s voice fades. “You. Do. Not—” She’s gone.
I don’t hear her.
I don’t hear anything.
Darkness consumes me as I feel my body go weightless in the air. It’s the same feeling I felt during my first trial when I was just fifteen years old. When my grip had slipped, when I knew I was going to die.
But then Char saved me.
Char.
But there’s no one here to save me now, and my body collides with the cold, hard ground.