CHAPTER ONE

LYRA

“Willow.”

My lungs burned as I ran through the crowd, my voice barely cutting through the noise.

“Willow!”

The scene was chaotic: people were panicking and moving frantically. I was pushed, stumbled, but kept going because of the intense heat and smoke from the fire, which made it difficult to breathe, see, and think clearly.

“Willow!” I shouted again, my throat already raw.

Nothing.

I felt a surge of panic and looked around at the unfamiliar, scared faces. Overwhelmed by the crowd, I pushed through, ignoring the people around me.

“Excuse me-sorry-please-” I muttered as I pushed through.

Someone grabbed my arm.

I flinched and turned around, my heart slamming against my ribs.

“Lyra?” Elias stared at me, eyes wide, his face streaked with sweat. He was one of the servers from our catering team. His white shirt was torn, and burnt at the edges.

“Elias,” I gasped. “Have you seen Willow? Have you seen my sister?”

He shook his head quickly. “No. No, not since they announced the dance. She was near the stage earlier.”

The stage.

My stomach dropped.

“Thank you,” I said, already pulling away.

“Lyra, wait-”

I didn’t wait.

The closer I got to the stage area, the worse it became. The smoke was thicker here, causing irritation in my eyes. The lights above flickered, then went out completely for a second, throwing everything into darkness before coming back weak and dim.

A loud crack echoed overhead.

And someone screamed.

“Move!” a man shouted. “Get out!”

Another crash followed, louder this time. Part of the ceiling came down somewhere behind me, sending dust and debris into the air. People surged toward the exits, pushing harder now, panic taking over.

I was shoved forward, then sideways. My foot caught on something and I nearly went down.

“Sorry-sorry!” someone yelled as they ran past me.

I coughed, my chest aching. My head felt light, and each breath I took burned badly.

“Willow…” My voice broke.

Then I heard it.

“Lyra…”

The voice was faint and weak. But it was her.

I froze.

“Willow?” I spun around, heart pounding. “Willow!”

“Lyra…” Her voice came again, closer this time.

“I’m here.”

I pushed through the crowd, following the sound. My hands shook as I shoved people aside.

“I’m coming,” I shouted back. “Don’t move. Please don’t move.”

Another loud crack echoed above us. I looked up just in time to see part of the ceiling give way near the stage causing dust to rain down. People screamed and ran.

Then I spotted her.

Willow was half-hidden behind a fallen beam, crouched low, coughing. She looked terrified, her hair covered in dust.

“Willow!” Relief hit me so hard my knees almost gave out.

I ran to her and dropped beside her. “Are you hurt? Can you stand?”

She shook her head quickly. “I-I don’t know. My leg hurts. I couldn’t get out in time.”

I looked around, my heart sinking. A heavy piece of concrete had fallen nearby, blocking the easiest path out.

“It’s okay,” I said, forcing calm into my voice even as my hands trembled. “I’ll get help. I promise.”

“No,” she grabbed my wrist. Her grip was weak but desperate. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’ll be right back,” I said. “I swear.”

Another crash sounded above us. I flinched.

“I won’t be long,” I added quickly. “Stay here.”

She nodded, tears streaking her face. “Be careful.”

I squeezed her hand once, then stood and ran.

The exit wasn’t far, but it felt like miles. I dodged people, as I tried to find my way out.

“Help!” I shouted when I reached the doorway.

“Please, my sister is still inside!”

A firefighter turned toward me, his face exhausted, and his eyes sharp and cold.

“Ma’am, we’re evacuating,” he said. “You need to move away from the building.”

“She can’t,” I said, my voice shaking. “She’s hurt. She’s trapped near the stage.”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “We don't have enough hands. So we can’t send anyone back in right now.”

“What?” My chest tightened. “You can’t just leave her in there!”

“We’re doing our best,” he said firmly. “You need to step back.”

“She’ll die!” I snapped. “Please. She’s all I have.”

He looked away. “I’m sorry.”

I stood there, frozen, watching him walk off.

My ears rang.

No. No, no, no.

I turned back to see the building shake violently, flames erupting as another crash echoed from within.

I didn’t think twice about it.

I ran.

“Lyra!” someone shouted behind me.

I ignored them.

I saw an open window near the backstage, a potential entry point, and ran towards it despite the smoke and my burning lungs.

“Willow!” I yelled. “I’m coming back!”

I was almost there when the ground shook beneath my feet.

A hand grabbed my arm and yanked me back hard.

“Are you insane?” a man snapped. “You’ll die in there!”

“I don’t care!” I struggled against him. “My sister is inside!”

“You can’t go back in,” he said, holding me firmly. “The structure is unstable.”

“I have to,” I cried. “Please, let me go!”

Before he could answer, something exploded overhead.

The ceiling collapsed.

I didn’t have time to scream.

The debris hit me, causing a painful blow that crushed my chest, and blurred my vision.

My knees buckled.

I didn’t even feel myself falling. A hand caught me. It was strong and it felt warm

It closed around my wrist, firm but careful. He held me gently, as if knowing I was fragile. I looked up, barely able to keep my eyes open, and that's when I saw him.

I didn’t know who he was. And he didn’t look like anyone else around us. He wasn’t shouting or panicking. His face was calm, sharp and controlled, almost like he was trained for situations like this and chaos didn’t apply to him.

For half a second, nothing happened.

Then all of a sudden my body started to react.

An intense, internal heat rapidly spread through me, causing my heart to race and then my breath got stuck in my throat. It was as if my insides were on fire.

I gasped.

My back arched as my body betrayed me, every nerve lighting up at once. It felt like fire was pouring through my veins, like my skin was too tight for what was happening inside me.

“I-I can’t-” My words fell apart.

His grip tightened around me, not from fear, but as if he was holding onto something precious.

“Look at me,” he said.

His voice cut through the noise, deep and steady, like it expected to be obeyed.

I couldn’t.

My vision blurred. Tears spilled down my face without permission. The pain was everywhere now. I didn’t understand it. I didn’t understand why touching him hurt this much. Why does this hurt more than the fire? Why does he feel like danger? Why does my body hate being held by him?

“Please,” I sobbed. “It hurts.”

Something shifted in him. I felt it in the way his hand flexed around mine. In the way his body went still.

Not helpless, but alert.

“No,” he muttered, low and sharp. “This isn’t-”

I didn’t hear the rest.

The fire surged again, stronger this time, ripping a cry from my throat. My legs gave out completely, and all my weight sagged into him.

He didn’t let go. His other arm came around me, holding me upright even as my body shook uncontrollably.

“Stay with me,” he ordered.

I wanted to. I really did.

But the world was slipping. The noise faded. The crowd disappeared. Even the pain started to blur, turning heavy and overwhelming, like I was sinking underwater.

I felt him tense suddenly. He took a sharp breath, and then his weight shifted.

The ground tilted violently. And the last thing I felt was him falling with me.

Then everything went black.