The Fire Within Series Novels & Stories

He had on tight black jeans and a black shirt with the fire departments name upon it and a skintight, long-sleeved undershirt. “I’m guessing you saved this young women’s life yesterday,” I heard the older man say but my eyes were too focused on the younger fireman to move. “Seems she came to say thank you.” The younger fireman’s gaze shifted to me. I lost my breath as his green eyes settled upon me. My heart rioted and pounded in my chest as those haunting green eyes wandered up and down my body. I felt utterly exposed and inexplicable aroused. How I’d love to run my fingers into his hair and taste his full, red lips.

He even slapped himself in the face a few times, acting more and more extraordinary to effective. Then he put his knees down to the ground, holding Egbert Leon's thighs with both hands, and said. "Lord Leon, please forgive me, don't send me away! I don't want to be fired, I still want to continue to stay in True Fire Cult, devote myself to True Fire Cult!" This image attracts many people in the dojo, each monstrous look at this True Fire Cult inner sect disciple, whispering words discuss out. Looking through Vivian Arnold again, they talked about argument, and didn't know what kind of god she was, Alger Frank offended her and she had to end up being fired.

The cold winter wind rushed through the broken window of the abandoned house. Arder shivered, backing further away from the shattered glass. The breeze blew her hair into her eyes, and she quickly pushed it away. Her dark red hair was like a fire burning in the darkness, a beacon glowing brightly for her hunter to find. She looked over her shoulder for the millionth time, feeling paranoid. He could be anywhere-- lurking in a dark corner, waiting behind a closed door, silently standing behind her-- and she wouldn't even know it. He was too quiet. Too good at this horrible game.

Althea focused on the heat deep inside of her and used what little magic she possessed to form a barrier around it. She fought the urge to stomp her feet or rub her hands together. Instead, she filled her lungs with frigid air and expelled it in a huff. Beside her, Destroyer uncurled, stood, stretched and then resituated his huge body around her feet and knees. “You should leave me. You will die if you stay here. We can not wait much longer for him to rescue us,” she whispered, but the wolf simply opened one insulted blue eye and let out a sigh that sent the snow in front of his mouth flying wildly around them.

Shadows flicker red beneath my door now, dancing like cruel spirits. “Run!” The word echoes in my skull. The door bursts inward in a spray of sparks and splintered wood. Flames roar behind a towering silhouette. A man steps through the fire. I cannot see his face — only the outline of him carved in burning light. And his eyes. They glow. Not with reflection. With power. The world fractures into red and gold. Heat devours everything. The scream tears from my throat— I wake choking on smoke that isn’t there. My room is dark. Quiet. Whole.

The roar of those thousands of clones, the mechanical whirring of drones, the screams—everything vanished into the womb of eternity in an instant. ​As the smoke and fog slowly began to lift, I saw something no human is ever prepared to see. ​The entire forest was now a massive crematorium. Where the mysterious pond had been, there was now only a smoking crater. A little further away, I saw the lifeless body of my father. The man whose power once shook the entire city was unrecognizable now, half of his body charred to coal. His family ring lay in the dust, but the hand to wear it was gone. Nearby lay the peaceful body of Elena Valentine—the fire of revenge in her eyes extinguished forever.

Phineas joined me a moment later, staff in hand, eyes glinting like molten gold. “Close your eyes,” he instructed. “Feel the fire, not as an enemy—but as an extension of yourself.” I did as he said. The warmth pulsed through me, steady and alive. A heartbeat that wasn’t mine, yet somehow was. “Good,” he murmured. “Now breathe. Feed it control, not chaos.” For a moment, the fire flickered quietly under my skin, calm and obedient. But then an image flashed through my mind—Carter’s face, his eyes glowing red and black—and the fire roared back to life, wild and furious.

All I know right now is that I can only hear what's around me. "Doc, how was my daughter case?" That's the voice of the woman again. I almost know her voice because she's always the one I hear in the past. I've been like this for almost a year. That's what I hear from them. "Her condition is so fatal. A fifth-degree burn may not just affect her tissue but also the muscle and bone at the site of the injury and can potentially lead to permanent internal damage, including organ failure. As a result, fifth-degree burns are really often fatal," the doctor answered the woman.

She closed her eyes and thought of her people—the children hiding in ruined villages, the mothers who buried their dead, the warriors who still held the walls though hope grew thin. I do not seek flame for myself, she whispered inwardly. I seek it for them. The fire pulsed, responding to her thought, and a warmth unlike anything she had ever known flooded her chest. On the other side, Cyrion thrust his arms wide, laughing as fire engulfed him. “Yes! I will wield you as a weapon. Together we will tear down thrones and build an empire from the bones.” But even as he shouted, the flames around him sputtered, turning black, coiling like smoke strangling its own source. He snarled, forcing them t