Fates help me, but I saw my wildfire now.
Chapter 7
Lore
Wind swept past, even in this fractured place, and rattled the shards like discordant chimes.
Another fragment, perched high on a leaning fountain, reflected endless darkness. My chest tightened even as I walked over and reached for it.
A cavern. Dirt floor. Shattered bones. Echoing cries.
Reyla stood at the mouth of a vast cave, a sword in her hand, her chest heaving. Others dressed in leathers like her battled creatures like the one she’d killed in the village. Screams rang from every side. The air hung with the rank smell of blood.
She ran toward a tall blond man fighting at the center of the chaos, his movements crisp and unrelenting, his blade a blur. She placed her back to his, and for a breath, they moved as one. Perfectly aligned. Trusted. Known.
I’d never seen her more beautiful.
And then the beast struck.
Its claw slashed him wide open, and he fell…
“Kinart,” she screamed. She dropped beside him, pulling himinto her lap. Her sword slipped from her hand. I doubted she noticed.
“Kinart, no. No, please.” Her hand shook as she pressed it against the wound like she could hold the life inside him by force. “Stay with me. Please. Please don’t go.” The anguish in her voice gouged the air.
His face had already gone pale. His mouth moved, but no words made it to me. She cradled the back of his head.
“I’m here,” she whispered, over and over, her lips trembling as she kissed his forehead. “Don’t go. Don’t go. It should’ve been me.”
She said it like a confession. A truth she'd lived with for a long time.
When his body stilled, she cried out. Such a guttural sound. She leaned over him, shaking, breathing in broken sobs, clinging to him, praying for the world not to take him.
After a long moment, her shoulders stiffened. Her hand moved to close his eyes. She grappled to rise to her feet and lift her sword. After wiping her face on her sleeve, she gave him one last look.
My breath caught because I was watching her shove her grief behind a wall deep inside, giving her mourning no home.
I staggered backward, pressing my hand against my chest where my heart threatened to shatter. “You loved him.” The words scraped up my throat. “You loved him completely, and watching him die broke something inside you.”
My knees hit the fractured ground again, and I didn't try to stop the fall. “That's why I see both healing and heartbreak in your eyes when I tell you I love you. Those words bring you joy and terror in equal measure.” I dragged my hands through my hair. “You're not afraid of dying for me, Wildfire. You're afraid of living throughlosing me.”
The wind howled through the broken landscape, carrying echoes of her anguished cries. “Every time you've held yourself back. Every wall you've built. It wasn't to keep me out. It was to keep yourself from shattering again.”
Understanding roared through me. “You think loving me fully means I'll be ripped away. That caring completely is a death sentence for the person you love.” I pressed my palms flat against the glass-strewn earth. “I won't let fear of what might happen steal what we have right now. Loving me isn't what will destroy you, Wildfire. It's what will save us both.”
My voice dropped to a fierce whisper. “Whatever happens, I need you to know that loving you has been the only real thing in my life. I can't promise you forever, love. I wish I could. But I can promise you that every moment I have left will be spent loving you without reservation.”
Her strength wasn’t a duty. It was her punishment, a quiet sentence she carried for not dying in Kinart’s place.
Pain like that didn't fade. Not ever. It left a gouge across your soul.
These shards were pieces of her and their edges cut deeply, but I’d come here knowing this might be tough. I’d willingly accepted that I would give everything I had and more if needed.
A darker shard loomed to my right, and I walked over, bending down to take it into my hand. Stroke my finger across the smooth surface and it…
In this one, Reyla as I knew her now, sat bound to a wooden chair. Vines wrapped her wrists, her ankles, her throat. They twitched with magic. She strained against them, her jaw clenched, her breath coming fast.
A man crouched in front of her. Handsome. Polished. But his eyes were void of warmth. He smiled calmly, like he was owed something.
