Chapter 3 Fire and Fate
FIRE AND FATE
As Willow’s claim—that I belong here—races through my thoughts, Scarlet shifts closer. “I know it sounds impossible,” she says gently. “But it’s real.”
I bristle. Kindness has betrayed me more times than cruelty ever has. I’ve learned that gentle voices and carefully worded questions are intended to lower my guard before turning my answers into ammunition. I learned that lesson before prison, and I’ve relearned it too many damn times since.
I scan their faces, loathing the unchecked curiosity there. I need answers—something solid and sure to hold onto before my heart shakes apart. I need to know if I’m a monster.
“Is she about to freak out again?” The bearded man eyes me like a lit fuse.
“She grew up with humans,” Willow says. “This is a lot to process.”
“I was born on Earth, too.” Scarlet frowns. “Humans can be brutal and careless.” Her expression looks almost pained before she blinks it away. “Do you feel different, Brielle? Stronger? More rested?”
Beneath my fear and unease, I realize I do. The constant ache in my spine, the sharp twinge in my right shoulder, even the sluggishness I thought was normal are all gone. It’s as though I awoke from a deep, dreamless sleep and was scrubbed clean from the inside out.
I’ve been drugged.
There’s no other explanation.
I fight the rising panic, searching the room for exits.
“I know it feels strange at first,” Scarlet says. “Like an out-of-body experience, but it’s normal.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think we can use the word normal in this conversation.”
Scarlet grins.
“Brielle, this is Tarkan Bessus,” Daire says, gesturing toward the bearded man.
“What can you do?” I ask.
Tarkan smiles. Water swirls into existence in his palm—a controlled sphere that grows while maintaining its tight form.
No one reacts. No one else is shocked.
How? The word echoes on repeat in my thoughts.
Before I can process what’s happening, Tarkan flicks his wrist. The sphere of water launches straight at me.
Instinct has me raising my hands defensively. A rush of heat and ice flows beneath my skin—and something inside me shifts.
The water crashes, but not against me. It slams into empty air, like it’s hit an invisible wall, and explodes. Willow and Karraelas are soaked by the splash.
Everyone freezes.
Willow’s lavender eyes are wide as she steps forward and reaches out, finding the invisible surface separating us. A slow, delighted smile spreads across her face as her palms flatten against thin air.
A barrier separates us.
“Amazing,” she breathes, pressing her hands more firmly against it.
A sharp pain jolts down my spine. The ache ends at the same time the barrier collapses. Willow stumbles, nearly crashing into me.
We both jump back.
I want to ask if that was me. Demand to know how it happened. How to do it again. But my pulse is pounding, my skin tingles, and my thoughts feel like scattered ash as I question what is real.
“Are you out of your mind?” Daire snaps at Tarkan. “We just assured her she was safe.”
Karraelas shifts, his unease so obvious it sets me on edge. “Daire’s right. You might trigger her to...” He shakes his head. “We don’t know what she’s capable of.” He stares at me, eyes pinched like he’s concentrating very hard.
I meet his stare. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“He’s testing to see if you can read his thoughts,” Scarlet tells me.
“Read his thoughts?”
Scarlet takes another step closer to me.
Every muscle in my body tenses, even my lungs.
“We’re going to be close friends. I can feel it.” Her voice is light, casual, but also certain.
She doesn’t understand—trust isn’t something I can afford.
Daire moves closer, too close, and places a hand on my knee. Heat floods me, seeping past skin into my bones.
I jerk away. “What did you just do?”
The door slams open with so much force that the walls rattle. Everyone shifts, hands raised into defensive positions as I measure the feet to the door and pick the best places to hide.
A man with dark hair and silver eyes stands in the doorway that leads outside, making the exit look small. He’s wearing a white dress shirt, and black slacks, a crimson tie. His distinctive eyes gleam—too bright, too knowing—as they lock on me.
Scarlet moves between us, putting her back to me, arms raised in a defensive position. Her words of friendship race through my head, into my heart, straight to the soul that so many have claimed I don’t have.
The silver-eyed stranger raises a hand, but I’m faster. Flames extend from my fingertips, wild and reckless, streaking toward the newcomer as the room erupts into chaos.
Invisible binds slam around my wrists and ankles, pinning me to the bed.
“Stop!” Scarlet shrieks. “She doesn’t know. She didn’t do it on purpose.”
The stranger ignores her and the flames that Karraelas and Tarkan are rushing to extinguish. He takes three strides toward me, murder swirling in his eyes.
“Do it,” I dare him through clenched teeth as I struggle against the invisible restraints.
“She doesn’t know,” Scarlet says again. She moves, but only takes a step before she freezes. Fear flashes across her face.
The scent of citrus tickles my nose as the dark-haired man approaches, leaving only a few feet between us.
His shoulders are impossibly broad, and his dark hair teases the top of his long, sooty lashes.
He stares down at me like I’m the root of all problems, with those silver eyes practically glowing, revealing they’re actually an unnatural shade of lavender.
His nose is a straight line, and his lips are almost too full.
Somehow, I sense his vast strength and his intentions.
He wants to kill me.
Daire releases what can only be called a growl as he moves to stand between us. “Back off.”
“This is Brielle Breslin. She was just rescued,” Willow explains, her tone diplomatic, but I hear the edge of fear—sharp as the invisible knife I know is pressed to my neck. “She’s been living with the humans.”
The stranger’s inhuman-colored eyes sharpen. “She’s too strong. There’s no way humans raised her.” He turns his attention to Daire, then to Karraelas.
“I...” Karraelas clears his throat. “What we believed was a coven was...” He clears his throat again. “We only found her.” He nods at me. “She doesn’t seem to have control. Which explains the spikes we’ve been monitoring.”
The stranger’s silver eyes narrow, and an unnatural pressure against my chest steals my breath as fear swallows my anger.
Daire straightens. “You have two seconds.” His voice is a warning as he leans closer to the stranger, further confusing me. “Or I swear on the Veil...”
The pressure eases fractionally, though his silver eyes sharpen. “Where have you been hiding, Witchling?”
The insult grates.
“I wouldn’t advise taunting her, Lochlan,” Karraelas mutters. “Those flames were tame compared to the magic she threw at Chris. It’s going to take him at least a week to recover.”
Lochlan stares at me. “If she’s as green as you believe, she’ll burn herself out first.”
There’s brutal certainty in his voice, and even worse, a note of curiosity, like he wants to see what happens if I do.
“I’d take you with me,” I promise him.
Humor flashes in his gaze with a silent challenge that I itch to rise to before he looks at Daire. “Hear that? She wants to kill me.”
“She needs more than Thornhurst,” Willow interjects. “She needs someone to work with her one-on-one, so she doesn’t hurt herself. Training for three elements will be difficult.”
“What is her third element?” Lochlan asks.
“Air. She created a barrier strong enough to stop me.”
“We mistook her for an entire coven.” Daire stares at him meaningfully.
Karraelas clears his throat for a third time, clearly uneasy. “Her power was so low when we arrived this morning, it wasn’t even reading, but Chris attacked her, and the spike was off the charts.” His gaze slips to mine and quickly away. “And she was barely conscious.”
Lochlan studies me like an unsolved problem. Previously, when on the receiving end of this look, it’s been followed by tests that include torture and starvation.
My pulse is at a gallop, but then the restraints fade entirely. I don’t know if it’s intentional, so I stay frozen, only moving enough to track the strangers and the exits.
“How much control do you have?” Lochlan asks me.
I stare at him defiantly.
“Don’t test me, Witchling.” He takes a step closer, and every one of my muscles and instincts demands that I move and pull away, sensing the danger that rolls off him, but I refuse to show him I’m shaken. Refuse to flinch. Refuse to answer him.
Lochlan’s expression shifts, something between angry and cavalier. It’s a dangerous combination. Just when I think he’ll strike, he tears his gaze away. “Monitor the area. There must be more,” he tells Karraelas. He turns to Tarkan. “I want her background. Everything from birth until now.”
Then those silver eyes return to me. “If this is a trap, not even the Fae and Titans will be able to save you from me.”
Daire’s jaw is locked with a scowl. He’s the only one who doesn’t seem intimidated by Lochlan, making me question their relationship. “Brielle, this is Lochlan Delecroix.”
Lochlan doesn’t acknowledge the introduction, turning to Willow. “Has she been healed?”
“Yes,” she says. “But as I was saying, I don’t know whether Thornhurst will be the best place for her.”
“She can stay with me,” Scarlet offers.
“She’ll stay at Mysthaven,” Daire says. “It will be the safest place for her while she acclimates to the power shift.”
“Power shift? This isn’t real. You’re not real. None of this is real.” I’m losing my mind, and with it, any semblance of composure.
Daire takes another step to close the distance between us and sets a hand below my elbow, wrapping his fingers around the underside of my arm in a gentle but firm hold.
I swear I can map out the placement of each fingertip as I obsess over the contrast of his skin against mine.
I’d forgotten how warm another person’s skin could be, how not all touches inflict pain.
His touch doesn’t take. It gives—steady, quiet, present, like he’s offering part of his calm to me, even if I don’t know how to hold it.
I shift, unsure if I like the reminder he draws, but he moves with me, and the warm scents of cinnamon, clove, and smoke fill my lungs. “You’re real,” he says in a voice barely above a whisper. “This is real.”
My heart feels like a coin, spinning endlessly, unsure how it might land. But somehow, my thoughts slow from frantic self-preservation and fear laced with denial to questioning whether this could be plausible. After all, if I can unintentionally burn people, perhaps there is a reason.
I release a slow breath, and my heart follows, gentling.
As I turn toward the others, Willow’s gaze is fixed on me—more specifically on where Daire’s still touching me.
I pull away, almost shocked that his handprint hasn’t branded my skin, because I still feel him.
“What’s Mysthaven?” I ask, twisting my attention to Scarlet and Willow.
“Not a what, a where,” Lochlan tells me. “And for now, it’s where you’ll be staying.”
“Nature will be important while you’re healing,” Willow says. “You’ll need to spend time outdoors every day.”
Her words feel like a breeze. Like a bird’s song. Like the promise of freedom. The snowdrop flowers are now a field in my chest that I try to burn as my heart races.
“So, I’m not human?”
Scarlet slowly shakes her head.
“And you think I’m from here?”
“We know you are,” Willow says.
I study her for several long seconds. “How?”
“Elemental powers used in other dimensions are tracked,” Karraelas explains. “You set off every alarm we had a few days ago. Nearly as high as you did today.”
“You think I belong here because I burned someone.” It’s meant to be a question, but it sounds like a statement.
Willow nods slowly. Her expression isn’t filled with fear or the same edge of anticipation others have when discussing my unnatural ability.
Instead, she looks almost sad. “We know it wasn’t intentional.
In Bryxton, we’re trained to harness and use our powers.
You were alone and had no idea. Strong emotions: fear, lust, anxiety.
.. they can all trigger powers.” She pauses.
I haven’t had a real conversation, a two-sided discussion with someone in so long, I can’t tell if she’s expecting me to fill in the blank space or if she is just allowing me to soak up her assurance.
“You were frightened and then horrifically injured. You couldn’t control your reaction, and we wouldn’t expect you to.
” She looks at Karraelas and then at Lochlan.
I’ve thought myself a monster—dangerous and unpredictable—for so long.
To know there’s an explanation fractures something deep within my chest, leaving me feeling uncomfortably vulnerable and emotional.
Still, exposing more of myself and telling another one of my truths has me shaking my head in denial.
Elementals.
I don’t know how to accept this.
I don’t know how not to.