Chapter 3

Romy, 23.

Present Day.

“That dress,” Camellia noted, her manicured finger pointing directly at my neck as I turned slightly in the full-length mirror. “It doesn't cover the tattoo.”

I kept my eyes glued to the reflection of my throat. Sprawling up the side of my neck was a masterpiece of dark ink: a midnight-blue raven.

It was a silent, permanent tribute to Alina, the only person who had ever called me her little raven.

It rested within a shadowed bed of dusky pink roses, the gothic vines and thorns curling upward—a beautiful, elaborate lie designed specifically to mask the cursed mark I had carried all my life.

I raised a single brow, my gaze sweeping down the rest of my reflection. The dress was an earthy-toned silk A-line, featuring a sophisticated halter neck that gave way to dramatic, off-the-shoulder draped sleeves.

It cinched tightly at my waist before flowing to the floor, parted by a high slit that exposed my leg and the four-inch heels strapped to my feet. A delicate silk bow tie rested right beneath the raven’s claws at my throat.

Above it all, my red hair was swept up into a beautifully messy bun. I was relieved the stylist hadn’t forced it into a tight, ballerina-slick cage. Instead, it was a tumble of red waves pinned high into a textured, piecey updo, with a few thick sections pulled back by ribbons of silk.

It was the perfect 'undone' look, elegant enough to stand near an altar, but effortless enough to show I didn't care.

“Why are you so bothered about her tattoo?” Erica asked from the vanity chair. She was the chief bridesmaid, Amy's younger sister, and four years older than me.

As she spoke, the diamond engagement ring slung on her finger caught the harsh vanity lights.

Camellia, a brown-haired, blue-eyed friend of the family, crossed her arms. “I just think her dress is too revealing. It’s bad etiquette if a bridesmaid looks prettier than the bride, don't you think?”

From the moment I had stepped into the luxury suite here in Buston, I had wanted to claw Camellia’s eyes out.

She had been glaring at me with a menacing, thinly veiled inferiority complex all morning.

Looking at her aggressively contoured face and heavily beaded gown, it was obvious she was the one trying desperately to outshine everyone in the room.

“You should look in the mirror, Cam,” Erica flung out absentmindedly, blending the last of her setting powder. “I think you're the one trying a little too hard today.”

A low, dark smile curved my lips.

“Erica!” Kathy gasped. Kathy was twenty-five, the youngest of the biological sisters, a relentless clout-chaser, and currently clutching her pearls.

Erica simply shrugged. “Look at her, Kathy. Tell her not to ruin the wedding. Whatever Romy chose to wear was approved by Amy, which means it is technically no one’s business. You all need to be out in the hall in ten minutes.”

With that, Erica stood and walked out of the room, leaving me alone with Kathy, Camellia, and five other whispering bridesmaids I barely knew.

They were my family on paper. After the fire thirteen years ago, Amy’s mother, our former housekeeper, had taken me in, adding me to her house of four girls. Carly, the oldest, was already married with four kids and rarely around.

Amy, the bride getting married today to her boyfriend of sixteen years, had always been my fierce protector. Erica tried her best to make me feel loved. And Kathy just tried to get famous.

But despite living under their roof until I left for college at eighteen, I had isolated myself. I preferred to be a ghost.

I owed Amy my life—she was the one whose hand had clamped over my mouth that night in the yard, dragging me into the shadows before he could see me.

I remembered him perfectly.

Rowan Ashwing-Kael Vexley,  the Supreme Alpha of Stormveil and the Fire Lord of the Ashwing bloodline.

There was no way I would ever forget the man whose name had burned in my mind for thirteen years, whose cold, monstrous face haunted my dreams every single night.

He had slaughtered my parents and betrayed my sister. And I had sworn to the ashes of my home that I would find him, and I would utterly destroy him.

“Earth to Romy!” Kathy called, snapping her fingers an inch from my nose. “Seriously? Aren't you a little too old to be spacing out at the wall?”

“I've always found her weird,” one of the older bridesmaids muttered to Camellia, not bothering to lower her voice. “She rarely talks.”

“Whatever made her so sullen…” another whispered back. " wonder why she even joined the bridal train. Amy’s fondness for her was never reciprocated. Erica and Amy have always had to speak for her.”

“Can you all stop talking about Romy like she's not standing right here?” Kathy huffed, adjusting her neckline. “We're heading out to the reception hall now. Let's go.”

I stared blankly at the women gossiping about me as if it were a quirky personality trait.

I turned to follow them toward the door, just as a distinct, heavy vibration buzzed against my thigh from the hidden pocket in my silk skirt.

I paused, leaning slightly toward Kathy. “I'll be right back.”

Kathy jumped, startled by my sudden voice. “Goodness, Romy! Don't speak so suddenly like that, you’ll give me a heart attack at twenty-five.” She narrowed her eyes. “Where are you going? We're supposed to—”

I was already walking down the carpeted hallway, completely tuning out her excessive questions.

I slipped into a private, marble-lined restroom down the hall and locked the heavy oak door behind me.

Reaching into the slit of my dress, I pulled out the encrypted burner phone. I tapped the single blinking dot on the screen.

The line connected immediately.

“Whose information did you just send me, Xry?” I demanded, fuming at the interruption.

i hated being caged in dresses, and I hated being bothered on the one day I was supposed to be playing normal.

“Check the file,” the distorted voice echoed back.

I opened the secured document.

TARGET: The Beast of Flames

REWARD: $20,000,000

EXPIRY: 04:00 AM

[This message will self-destruct in 30 seconds]

I scoffed, tossing the burner phone onto the marble vanity before pulling out my phone, dialing Xry.

“Fuck me. How am I supposed to locate him when no one in the underground knows what he looks like? The only thing the files say is that he can burn a city to the ground with a flicker of his fingers.”

Everyone knows of the Beast of Flames, but no one knows what he looks like. He's the most wanted assassin in the world, and the most dangerous.

But I’m far too confident that I’ll kill him. I’ve always effortlessly killed those considered untouchable.

Xry’s voice came  through the speaker. “He's currently at the building you're in. Eliminate him before dawn.”

I paused, staring at the phone. “He's where? Are you aware I'm at a wedding?”

“Amy Waxman’s wedding. Your adoptive sister. Hell yes, I know.”

I scoffed. “And I'm supposed to ruin her reception by hunting down some invisible fire bender in an evening gown?”

“That fire bender is a massive threat to the Hunters,” Xry snapped. “You have to do as you're told, Romy, or you lose twenty million dollars. Worse, you lose any protection and intel you might need for your personal reason in the future.”

I ground my teeth together, forcing back a curse.

“Fine. How do I find him in a crowd of four hundred people?”

“I'll send a picture of him in a minute.”

“You have a picture of the Beast of Flames?!” I asked, as I unlocked the restroom door and stepped back out into the bustling hallway, my heels clicking sharply against the tiled floor. “That's news to me.”

“Well, some miracle happened, and a street camera caught his face during a border crossing… oh, shit!”

I stopped walking. “What?”

“There's no way…” Xry’s voice was suddenly breathless, laced with genuine panic. “There’s no way he's the Flames. I need to inquire with the guild if eliminating him is even an option anymore. I just sent you the picture.”

Then the line went dead. And moments later, my phone dinged in my hand.

I pulled the phone away from my ear, tapping the downloaded image file just as I reached the massive, gilded double doors of the reception hall.

As I pushed them open, a sudden, chaotic gasp erupted from the hundreds of guests inside. At that exact moment, a sharp, blistering heat slashed across my throat.

I gasped, my free hand flying to my neck. Beneath the ink of the raven, the damn cursed mark pulsed with a violent, waking burn I hadn't felt in thirteen long years.

My vision blurred from the sudden, phantom fire, but the pain was nothing compared to the heat burning through me as my eyes dropped to the image loaded on my screen.

Staring back at me were the familiar, cold gray eyes of the monster who had haunted my every waking moment for thirteen years.

Rowan Ashwing-Kael Vexley.

He... This Rowan, the same man who had driven a knife into my sister's heart, was the Beast of Flames? The monster breathing down the necks of the Hunters?

And he was here? Right now?

I stumbled backward, the edges of my vision blackening just as they had thirteen years ago.

A panicked guest, backing rapidly away from whatever was happening inside the hall, slammed hard into my shoulder, and the violent collision jolted my numb fingers.

The phone slipped from my grip, tumbling through the air and hitting the plush carpet with a dull thud.

I stared blankly at the floor, my lungs refusing to take in air as everything came rushing back. The fire, my sister and parents laying lifeless in the pool of their own blood... so much blood.

And Rowan, driving a dagger straight into Ariana's chest. my heart ached so bad like it was yesterday, when in fact it wasn't.

Just then, a pair of polished, expensive leather shoes stepped into my line of sight. Large, elegant hands reached down, retrieving my phone from the carpet.

Slowly, pulling myself out of the suffocating daze, I raised my head to muffle a mechanical thank you but the words died on my tongue.

Standing in front of me, in living flesh and blood, was the man from the photograph.The same man I had trained my entire life to slaughter.

He looked alluring and godly in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, his broad shoulders blocking out the light of the chandeliers.

He wasn't glaring at me, instead, he was looking down at me with an expression of absolute, earth-shattering devotion.

A soft, tender smile curved his lips as he stepped into my space, leaning down to utter a single word that shattered the vengeful resolve in my heart.

“Mate.”