I had wandered to the northern edge of the camp, following the soft pulse that now lived just beneath my skin. It wasn’t the same thrum of power I’d felt when the flame first woke inside me. No–this was subtler. More ancient. Like something long–forgotten stirring beneath the weight of centuries.
But that didn’t mean it was safe.
I’d knelt beside the leyline’s edge, fingertips grazing moss that hummed with silent energy, I thought of Serina–her name echoing in my chest like a lost song. Her memories had bled into mine. Her pain, her sacrifice. Her fire. And now…
Now, I wasn’t sure what was hers and what was mine anymore.
The flame responded to those thoughts. Violet heat shimmered beneath my skin, curling through my ribs like smoke in reverse. It didn’t hurt. Not yet. But it didn’t feel entirely like me, either.
I stood slowly and turned back toward camp, unsure if I’d been gone minutes or hours.
Nate was already there–waiting.
He stood with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed like he’d been pacing. When his eyes found mine, something flickered in his expression–not relief. Not quite. Something closer to hesitation.
“Where were you?” he asked softly.
“Walking.”
“Alone?”
“Needed to be.”
He didn’t speak again right away. Just stepped closer until the tension between us felt almost unbearable.
“You glow now,” he said at last.
I blinked. “I what?”
He lifted a hand–not to touch, just to hover near my shoulder. “You glow. Like starlight beneath your skin.”
I tried to laugh, but it caught in my throat. “That’s poetic.”
“It’s terrifying,” he corrected. “Because I don’t think you know what it means either.”
→
I wanted to deny it. Wanted to tell him I had control, that I knew exactly what this magic was becoming.
But then Eva screamed.
We ran.
The clearing was chaos. Eva stood in the center, her blade dropped beside her, her face pale. The tent behind her sagged dangerously, half–collapsed from a scorched support beam.
And everywhere–scorch marks.
They traced circles around her feet. Around the edges of the sparring ring. Around the path I’d taken that morning.
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Chapter 140
The marks glowed faintly violet.
It wasn’t me! Eva cried, backing away.
But I already knew,
It was me,” I whispered.
Nate’s hand went to my elbow, steadying me. “You weren’t even here.”
“I didn’t have to be.”
My pulse skipped. The flame pulsed harder now, responding not to intent—but to memory. To proximity.
To feeling.
“1–I’ve been dreaming of her,” I said quickly. “Of Serina. Of the Gate. I wake up and I feel it moving inside me like it’s… nesting. Like it’s learning me from the inside out.”
Bastain appeared from the trees, his gaze sharp and heavy. “She’s evolving faster than we anticipated.”
“What does that mean?” Nate snapped.
“It means she’s no longer adapting the magic. It’s adapting her.”
I swayed.
Nate caught me again.
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“You’re shaking,” he said.
Eva stepped closer, voice gentler now. “Do you remember anything from the sparring session?”
“I didn’t have one,” I murmured. “I haven’t sparred today.”
“Then how did this-”
Her question cut off. Because we all felt it then.
A pulse.
Low and deep, like thunder beneath the bones. It radiated from me in steady intervals–soft but inescapable. It wasn’t flame, not in the way I’d known it. It was frequency. A call.
The air shimmered.
My knees buckled.
I dropped hard, catching myself with one hand–but even that touch singed the ground. Symbols formed beneath my palm–shifting, old, eerily familiar.
I looked up at Eva. “Did you see?”
She nodded slowly. “You cast without casting
Bastain knelt beside me. “You need to rest,
“No.” I gasped. “I need to understand.”
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Jiselle
*I keep seeing her,” I said through clenched teeth. “In my dreams. In reflections. In my shadow. I think… I think Serina is still inside me.
Nate knelt beside me now, brushing my hair from my face.
“You’re not her,” he said fiercely. “You’re you. This thing inside you–it doesn’t own you?
“I don’t know if I believe that anymore.”
Another pulse hit–deeper this time, not a ripple but a quake inside my chest.
The kind that reshapes tectonic plates, not just nerves.
But this time, I didn’t fall.
I straightened.
Unshaken.
The clearing hushed. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath, and I felt every pair of eyes tilt toward me, unsure whether to reach out or recoil.
I turned in place slowly, spine stiff, lungs tight, every heartbeat like a drumbeat echoing in a distant cavern.
And then–I saw her.
At first, just a shimmer. A flicker of light caught at the edge of perception, like heat rising off stone.
Then shape. Shadow. Form.
O
Across the ring, where my flame had scorched a perfect half–circle into the earth, she stood–barefoot, unarmed, unblinking.
She looked like me.
But not the me who stood shaking beneath stars and prophecy.
No–she was the girl I used to be. The version untouched by trials, unmarked by Kael’s voice, unlit by fire.
She wore the softness of who I was before the world demanded I become more.
A girl in borrowed skin. Fragile. Whole. A memory carved in light.
She didn’t move.
She didn’t need to.
Her presence was a blade drawn quietly–cold, precise, and irreversible.
“Do you see her?” I whispered, throat dry, unable to tear my gaze away.
Nate’s voice came low beside me. “See who?”
“The girl,” Eva breathed. “At the edge of the ring”
Her tone was reverent. Like she wasn’t sure if she was seeing a ghost or a god.
Bastain took a single step forward, his eyes narrowing. “What in the name of the old gods…”
His words trailed into silence.
Because the Bill flickered again–önce.
Just once
And in that moment, her eyes lifted to mine.
They glowed.
Violet.
Exactly like mine had, just before I cracked open the Gate.
Then she vanished.
Not like smoke–no graceful fade.
She snapped out of existence like a snuffed candle. One breath she was there, and the next she was carved out of the world.
I gasped, the sound ragged and raw.
My knees buckled before I even realized I was falling.
But Nate was already there.
His arms wrapped around me, solid and sure, grounding me like gravity itself.
This time–I didn’t resist him.
My head pressed against his chest. His heart was beating fast, not from fear, but from knowing.
“I’m burning,” I whispered, the truth tasting like ash on my tongue.
“No,” he said, firm but gentle. “You’re not burning.”
He held my face in his hands, made me meet his eyes.
“You’re breaking through.”
I wanted to believe him.
Gods, I did.
But I wasn’t sure there was a difference anymore.
Because something was shifting inside me. Not tearing. Not consuming.
Transforming.
And deep beneath my ribs, where even Eira had once whispered, something else stirred.
A voice older than memory. Older than prophecy.
It wasn’t Eira’s venom, or Serina’s sorrow.
It was mine.
And it wasn’t begging.
It was calling.
Chapter 140
Not for power.
Not for salvation.
But for release.
And it was hungry.
