Fire In His Fingertips Books 소설 & 이야기

His amber eyes softened, only for her. “You can,” he murmured. “Start small. Just breathe.” So she did. She closed her eyes, letting the silence of the cavern wrap around her. She focused on the memory of warmth, of safety. Aiden’s touch. The way his lips had felt against hers in the quiet of the night. The steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek. And then—there it was. A flicker inside her chest. A spark that grew hotter, sharper, until it licked down her arms. Her hands trembled. She opened her eyes—and flame danced at her fingertips, golden and alive.

With heat. It spread through me like a slow, rising tide. My fingertips tingled, and when I looked down, I saw tiny sparks dancing over them. Gold. Always gold. I clenched my fists and willed the sparks to stop. They faded, but the burn didn’t. It pulsed in my veins, thick and molten, like lava trying to force its way to the surface.

I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rushing wind. A strange heat stirred in my fingertips, tingling at first, then burning. It surged through my veins, twisting and coiling inside me like a wildfire seeking release. My hands trembled as the energy grew, spreading up my arms, into my chest. It was overwhelming, alive, almost sentient. Then… Flames erupted from my palms, crackling to life in violent, twisting tendrils. They shot up into the air like a beast finally unleashed. The heat was searing, but it didn’t burn me.

He wasn’t strong enough to move me. The fire inside me swirled like a beast, a power I had barely tapped into, a strength that coursed through my veins like molten lava. I gripped his hands tighter, feeling the burn of it. My sleeves caught fire, the flames dancing up my arms, licking at the edges of my skin, but I didn’t flinch. The electricity that crackled through his fingertips surged toward me, the sharpness of it biting at my skin, but my flames fought back with equal force, each burst of heat pushing against the storm of his power.

Zara The flames didn’t start with a spark. They erupted all at once—roaring, raging, devouring everything in their path. One second, I was standing in the middle of the academy courtyard, and the next, fire leapt from my fingertips, curling around me like a living thing hungry for destruction.

He doesn’t pull away, because he can’t. Because they’ve silenced him. Because they want me to see what it would look like to lose. To fail. The fire bursts from my fingertips before I know I’ve summoned it and the clearing lights up in gold and red. The threads around me scream and I don’t stop to think. I just move. I throw flame at Victoria. At the Circle. At everything. I burn the silence down until the world splinters. And when I come back to myself, I’m on the library floor, gasping for breath.

Sweat slicks my temples, and my shirt, damp with perspiration, glues to my torso. The heat surges again, and I concentrate hard, trying to picture the fire taking form. I lift one hand and snap my fingers. A flame bursts to life, small but vivid, dancing at my fingertips. It flickers continuously until it fades, but the triumphant smile stays on my lips. For the first time in my life, I have summoned and controlled a flame.

Her hand lifted slightly, almost without her noticing it, and the white flame answered her again, flickering faintly along her fingertips, controlled, waiting. “But I have fire.”

But the fire in his eyes spoke of a need barely restrained. He laid me down and followed after, his body covering mine, sheltering me, yet igniting me all at once. His hands traced the curves of my body with a slowness that had me arching into him, desperate for more contact. Each brush of his fingertips against my skin was a spark, a brand, setting my body aflame.

I was in the study handling business when my assistant handed me a photograph. In it, Henry’s mangled, bloody face stared up from a New York street, his eyes wide open in death, grotesquely lit by a streetlamp. Looking at the photo, I felt nothing. To me now, he was nothing. Less than nothing. I casually tossed the photo into the roaring fire in the hearth beside me. I rose and walked to the massive floor-to-ceiling window. Outside lay the vast Vitiello estate, and beyond it, my own new empire, just beginning to rise.