Novel & Cerita Arcane Firelights Members

“I’ll tell you everything you want to know, even my freaking bank details for crying out loud, if you let me get back into that bed whilst you guard me against delusional warlocks. How about that?” “I knew it! I knew something was up!”. She exclaims, pacing back and forth. “Kind of missing my whole point, Mills”. I yawn, dropping myself back onto my bed and cocooning myself back into the covers. This is bliss. “You need to tell me what happened, Ath. Flynn never visits here. Alpha Menno is still wary of warlocks, that’s why they meet at the club”. “I don’t blame him”. I chuckle, fluffing my pillow to ensure it has the perfect shape again.

CHAPTER 25 – Flame Twins Rowan sat cross-legged on the floor of Mistara’s chamber, the low glow of enchanted lamps casting soft shadows on the walls. The air smelled faintly of ash and herbs. Mistara knelt across from her, hands hovering above a shallow bronze basin filled with flickering blue-and-gold flames. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Mistara asked, her voice cautious. “Once we enter the flame-memory, there’s no turning back until it’s done. You’ll see what the fire wants you to see.”

Elora added, “Teach your children to walk the frost paths with reverence, not fear.” Marcus nodded. “And hold each other accountable. Not just to laws, but to truth.” Alpha Kyle turned back to the crowd. “Let it be known that tonight marks the rebirth of our pact. That from this moment forward, Silverpine walks in step with the frost and the flame. And these four shall be remembered not just as warriors… but as helpers.” Mirelle stepped forward again, holding up a lantern of crystal and ice. “Let the first lantern be lit.” Daniella took it with steady hands, walking to the center of the hall. She raised it high.

You thought you could erase me? Watch me etch my name in every breath you take. I am not soft. I am not sweet. I am not yours. I am fire. And fire never begs to be seen.

I sighed then proceeded to sit on the table, the comfy chairs would lull me to sleep as tired as I was. I found the two doctors staring at me like I was some sort of an overgrown beetle or some sort of a cure to a certain untreatable disease, maybe it was the blood on my shirt surprising them. I was just about to snap at them that it was unprofessional of them but then I remembered, I didn't have my glasses on. My eyes were the magnet that attracted their gazes. My shoulders hunched when I recalled the glasses being broken earlier. " You must be Michael Marcus" one of them faked a smile and said. The other one who had an overgrown mustache like he was from London was still gazing at me with

He rarely spoke and his emotions through the matebond were those of shock and icy numbness. Now it was time to light the pyres, 16 in all. Representatives from each pack, if there were any, lit the pyres. Because none of the enemy packs had representatives, Charlie, Xander, Devin, and I lit their pyres. Zak lit the smallest pyre at the head of the field, the one with only his father on it. Clara wailed as the fire began to consume the wood that her mate was on and most of the attention was on her. That’s why we didn’t notice that Zak was too close to the fire until Arya screams. “Zak!”

"My name is Akana den Rifabienn, Rial Cariad of Eitir," Mayin tilted his head. "Rial Cariad ... The consort of the Frostking? Information that my dear colleague neglected to mention." Mayin made a gesture towards Vis, who had risen and reached for a wine bottle that he drained in one gulp. Vis didn't want to be sober for this conversation. "What did you mean when you said the fire is not mine?" Akana asked, trying to disregard Vis drinking. He won't be of much help during this conversation. "The fire belongs to the dragon ... You call him Rafabik if I am not mistaken. You are merely using his element," Mayin said casually, and Akana frowned.

“The shadow-walker returns. I felt your footsteps in the dark.” “You always were dramatic, Sister Maevra.” “And you always were a bastard.” Of course he knew her. There were so many secrets to this man. He was not wrong when he had told me he had layers. I was interested in peeling them back to find out who I was really attached to. She hobbled closer, dragging a silver-tipped staff that pulsed faintly with old warding magic. Her gaze settled, not on Orion, but on me. “She is the fire. The one the prophecy warned of.”

But his gaze keeps sliding toward me—calculating, waiting. Waiting for me to burn. Councilor Therin lifts the ancient brazier, its black metal etched with runes older than any pack. “Aria of Shadowfang,” he intones, “the Blood Flames shall reveal your truth. Witch or wolf. Innocent or traitor. Light… or shadow.” The runes ignite. And flames explode upward. The fire roars with a sound like cracking bones and storm winds. It’s not natural fire—every color bleeds in the flickering tongues: crimson, ink-black, violet, molten gold. The air thickens, charged, reacting to me before I even step inside.

"The fires last night were a direct result of your presence. The people are divided. That division makes you a liability." "The fires were set deliberately," I said. "By people who want me to fail. Probably people in this room." Gasps from the gallery. Several Council members shifted uncomfortably. Draven's expression didn't change. "That's a serious accusation." "It's the truth." I looked at each Council member in turn. "Someone used magic accelerant. Someone timed the fires to start right after the blood ritual when I'd be too weak to respond. Someone wanted me to either fail to act or die trying."