Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3: The Burn

The cabin burns at dawn.

I wake to smoke, black and thick. It fills my lungs, my mouth, my eyes. I cannot see. I cannot breathe. I cannot think.

"Mama!" Marcus coughs. He sits up. Terrified.

"Mama, I can't see! Where are you?"

I grab him. Roll off the bed. The floor is hot. Too hot. It burns my feet through my socks. The window, closed.

Locked from outside. Someone nailed it shut while we slept. Someone wanted us to die.

I kick it. Once. The glass cracks.

Twice. It shatters. Fresh air rushes in. Cold. Clean. Life.

"Climb out!" I lift Marcus. He is small. Light. He fits through the broken window, glass tearing his shirt. He doesn't cry. He is brave. He is so brave.

I follow. My arm catches on the frame. Glass bites deep. Blood runs down my elbow. I don't stop. I don't look.

Outside, the yard is chaos. Kael's men fight shadows in the smoke. Gunshots. Sharp and loud. Wolf snarls. Someone has shifted. Fur and fury in the dark. Death sounds.

Then I see him.

Kael runs toward me. Shirtless. Blood on his mouth. Not his. His eyes are wolf-yellow. He is shifting back from form. He is wild. He is dangerous. He is here.

He reaches me. His hand finds my arm. His fingers are hot. Burning. He pulls me close. Too close. I can feel his heart beating. Fast. Hard. Like mine.

"You're hurt," he says. His voice is rough. Not fully human. His eyes travel down my arm. To the blood. To the tear in my dress. To my bare legs. He looks away. Fast. Like he saw something he shouldn't.

"Take the boy," he says. "Truck in back. Go. Don't stop."

"Who, what—"

"Darius. He found us." He pushes me. But his hand stays on my arm. Too long. Hot. "Run. Now. Go."

I run. But I look back. Once. He is watching me. Not the fire. Not the enemy. Me.

Marcus clings to my neck. His small heart hammers against my chest. His breath is hot in my ear. Behind me, a man screams. Wolf jaws. Killing. Kael's wolf, tearing. Blood. So much blood. But I saw his eyes. Yellow. And something else. Something human.

The back truck is open. A woman waits. Elena. I remember her from the drive. Beta. Fighter. Hard eyes.

"Get in!" She pulls Marcus. I follow.

The truck starts before the door closes. Tires scream on dirt. We bounce into the forest. Fast. Too fast. Branches scrape the sides like fingers trying to grab us.

I look back. The cabin is orange and black. Flames eat the roof. Then I see him. Kael's wolf runs from the fire. Men follow him. He is fighting. He is winning. He is coming.

"Where is he?" I ask.

"Following," Elena says. She drives like she hates the road. "He always follows. Always survives. He is hard to kill."

We drive for miles. Forest blurs. Marcus cries. I hold him tight. My arm bleeds on his shirt. I don't care. I don't feel it. I feel something else. Hot. Wrong. The way Kael looked at me. The way his hand burned. The way I didn't pull away.

My phone buzzes. Unknown number. I answer.

"Seraphina." Darius's voice. Smooth. Happy. Like we are talking over breakfast. Like he didn't try to burn me alive. "I see you got out. Pity. The boy would have been safer with me. With his real mother. She is worried sick about him."

"You're burning houses now? You're a coward. You're not a King. You're a thief."

"I am a King. Kings take what they want. They burn what stands in their way." He pauses. I hear Lila giggle in the background. "The announcement you planned? Cancel it. I have venues locked. Journalists paid. The council supports me. You have nothing. No one. Just a war criminal and a dead dream."

"I have Kael."

"You have a war criminal with outstanding charges. Good luck with that." He hangs up. The silence is worse than his voice.

I look at Elena. "The radio tower. North edge. Can we broadcast from there?"

Elena nods. "Abandoned. Equipment still works. Kael used it before. During the war. Before the charges."

"Take us there."

We drive faster. The tower is metal and rust. Three flights up. My legs burn. My arm bleeds. Marcus climbs beside me, silent, brave. He doesn't complain. He doesn't stop.

I stand before a microphone. No crowd. No cameras. Just a live feed to the internet. To every phone in the territories. To the world. To Darius watching somewhere.

I speak.

"My name is Seraphina Alaric. Daughter of King Alaric, who ruled these territories for thirty years. I was stolen from my cradle. Hidden from my birthright. Found by chance. But I am found."

I take a breath. My voice shakes. I make it steady. I make it strong.

"My husband, Darius Vane, tells you I am unstable. That I ran away. He does not tell you I found him in bed with his stepsister. He does not tell you the son I raised, the son I love, is theirs, hidden from me by medical fraud and cruelty. He does not tell you he knew I was the Princess. That he married me to control me. To keep me small. To keep me his."

Marcus makes a sound. Small. Hurt. I don't look. I can't.

"I am running for King. With Kael of the East as my consort and ally. We will win. We will burn the corruption that hid me. That used me. That thought I was nothing."

The door opens. I smell him before I see him. Forest. Smoke. Blood. Kael. He is here. He is burned. He is cut. He is alive.

He walks to me. Slow. His eyes find mine. They are gray now. Not yellow. Human. But something in them is still wild.

He takes my hand. His fingers are rough. Warm. They fit around mine like they belong there. He raises our hands high. Together.

"The East supports Seraphina Alaric. Any attack on her is attack on us. Any hand raised against her will be removed."

He doesn't let go. His thumb moves. Once. Against my palm. Small. Secret. No one sees. But I feel it. Like fire. Like promise. Like something I don't understand yet.

We run down. Fast. The tower is not safe. Darius will send men. More fire. More death. He is coming.

But Kael's hand stays on my back. Guiding me. Protecting me. Not touching, but close. Always close.

In the truck, my phone explodes. Messages. Calls. The feed has spread. Viral. Everywhere. People are watching. People know.

One message stands out. From Darius.

You think you won? Check your son's neck. Then call me. 

I look at Marcus. I check behind his ear. Small. White. Fresh.

A mark.

Not Darius's mark. Different. Newer. Someone else has bitten him. Claimed him. Made him pack property by law.

"Elena," I say. My voice is ice. "Who did this? When?"

Elena looks at the mark. Then at the road. Her hands tighten on the wheel. White knuckles.

"I don't know. I swear. He was with me the whole time. I never left him. I never would."

But her eyes move. To the window. To the mirror. Looking for escape. Looking for a way out.

I understand. "You gave him to someone. While I slept. While I planned. While I trusted you."

Elena doesn't answer. She reaches for the door handle. Ready to jump. Ready to run.

I grab her wrist. Hard. "Who?"

The truck stops. Not at a safe house. At a gate. High walls. Guards in Darius's colors. His emblem on the iron. We are home. His home.

Elena smiles. Sad. Sorry. Broken.

"He promised to free my family," she says. "My sister. My mother. They're in his cells. Have been for years. I'm sorry, Princess. I really am. I didn't want to. But family, you understand. You would do anything for family."

Hands pull me out. Rough. Strong. Marcus screams. They take him first. Rip him from my arms.

I fight. I bite. I kick. I scratch. I scream words that are not words. They hit me. Once. Twice. A fist to my face. I fall. Stone bites my knees.

Darius stands at the gate. Clean. Smiling. Untouched by fire. Untouched by my rage. Perfect.

"Welcome home, wife," he says. "The mark makes him legally pack property. Mine to claim. Mine to keep. And you," he touches my swollen face, "you get to watch me win. From a cell. Until you agree to behave. Until you remember your place. Until you beg me to take you back."

I look past him. Searching. For Kael. For help. For the man whose hand burned mine.

He is not here. He is too far. Too late.

But I remember his thumb on my palm. Small. Secret. A promise.

I will hold onto that. I will hold onto it until I see him again.

Darius drags me inside. The gate closes. Marcus's screams fade. Gone. Lost. Taken.

I lie on cold stone. My face swells. My arm bleeds. My son is gone.

Darius kneels. Whispers in my ear. His breath is hot. Smells like mint. Like my husband. Like lies I used to believe.

"Fifteen days, Princess. Tick tock. The clock runs. And you have nothing. No one. Just like I planned. Just like I always planned."

He walks away. The door locks. Heavy. Final.

I close my eyes. I smile. It hurts my face. It hurts everything. But I smile.

"You forgot," I whisper to the empty room. To the dark. To myself. "I was hidden for twenty-six years. I know how to wait. I know how to survive. I know how to hurt you back."

I think of Kael's hand. His thumb on my palm. The way he looked at me. The way he ran toward me while everything burned.

I slept.

And I dream of fire. And of hands that burn but do not hurt.