The ground trembles slightly beneath the impact as a tower of sparks erupts into the night sky. The fire spreads faster with every second, leaping across the rooftops of Briarthorn like a living creature unleashed.
The control I fought so hard to learn is gone. Completely.
The flames are no longer answering anything but my terror. I cling to Threxian’s arms as the village burns around us, the weight of the destruction pressing down on my chest until it becomes difficult to breathe.
“I can’t stop it,” I whisper.
The words come out broken.
“I can’t stop it.”
The words seem to vanish into the smoke before they fully leave my mouth. My hands clutch at the front of Threxian’s shirt as though holding onto him might somehow anchor the storm raging inside my chest, but the power surging through the bond refuses to quiet.
It pours through my veins with relentless force, answering every terrified thought that flashes through my mind. Each scream that echoes through the square feeds it further, each collapsing beam and spreading flame driving the panic deeper until the fire feels less like something outside of me and more like an extension of the fear I can no longer contain.
Another roof collapses across the street with a deafening crack of splintering timber. The crowd below scatters in blind desperation as pieces of flaming wood crash into the street. A pair of villagers drag an elderly man away from the falling debris while someone nearby shouts for water that will never arrive in time.
The sight tears something loose inside me.
“I didn’t mean this,” I whisper hoarsely, though the words sound hollow even to my own ears.
My gaze drifts helplessly across the burning square, searching desperately for some sign that the destruction will slow, that the flames will falter if I simply force myself to breathe the way Threxian taught me. But every attempt at calm shatters the moment another terrified voice rises through the smoke.
The fear refuses to release its hold. I feel his power answering it again, gathering with renewed strength beneath my ribs as the panic spirals outward. The flames surge higher across the rooftops, twisting into enormous columns that illuminate the entire village in a shifting sea of firelight.
“Elowen,” Threxian says again, his voice lower now.
I finally notice the strain beneath it. At first I think it is simply the tension of the chaos around us, but then I feel something else through the bond—a sharp, burning resistance pushing against the hell fire flooding the square. Threxian is fighting it. Not the villagers. Not the guards. The fire itself.
His wings tighten protectively around us, yet his body is rigid with effort. Hell-born energy coils around him in violent currents as he tries to choke the spreading flames, forcing them back with sheer will.
And it is hurting him. The realization hits me hard.
I can see the backlash tearing through him, the power rebelling turbulently against the restraint he is forcing upon it. The heat around us pulses and twists erratically, flames bending toward him only to surge outward again as the fear fueling them refuses to diminish.
“Threx,” I whisper, my voice breaking.
He exhales slowly through clenched teeth, his arms tightening around me as another building ignites across the square.
“I am trying,” he says.“I really am!”
The words sound strained. Pain flashes through the bond again, sharp and unmistakable. Panic surges instantly in response.
“You’re hurting yourself,” I gasp, pulling back enough to see his face.
Abyssal flame reflects in his eyes as he struggles to contain the chaos spreading through Briarthorn. The effort is written across every line of his body, every tense movement of his wings as he forces the flames away from us.
“It does not matter,” he replies quietly.
But it does matter.
The realization that he is suffering because of the fire I unleashed sends another wave of terror crashing through mychest. The bond reacts instantly, the infernal current surging outward with renewed force as the fear multiplies inside me.
Across the square, another house erupts into flame.
“They’re running,” I whisper faintly, my eyes following the terrified figures fleeing into the smoke. “They’re trying to get away from it.”
Another explosion of sparks erupts as the cooper’s shop collapses inward, the flames devouring the remaining beams in seconds.
