The Devil's Broken Doll
A silent choir-note, absolute, vibrating through bone.
The world rang in her ears. Stone bit into her spine. Vision flared red, then narrowed to a single, furious point. Her hands clawed at the floor, fingers stinging where stone tore skin.
For just a few seconds, she couldn’t move. Not because her flame was gone—far from it. It raged, affronted, clawing up her throat and down her arms. Her body simply hadn’t been ready. Not for that.
Not for him. Not for the way his power didn’t burn like fire, but hit like a rock. It decided, and the world complied.