“Only afraid of you being in charge,” I muttered, but I climbed onto Kaelith’s back anyway, slipping into place just behind the ridge of her shoulders. Remy mounted Katama in one fluid motion, as if he were born to fly without restraints.
With a single beat of wings, we were airborne.
We soared high above the Ascension Grounds, past the perimeter of Warriath, over the hollows where unbonded dragons flew. The world stretched beneath us—forests, rivers, glowing towers of pale stone.
And then it shifted.
The green faded.
The trees below twisted, dark and dense, their roots tangled like grasping hands. The land cracked and blackened the deeper we went. A cold wind rolled over us, and even Kaelith’s breath felt sharper now.
We had reached the Wilding Wastes.
Just before we descended, I saw it—a shimmer in the air. Like heat over stone, rippling in a ring of distortion across a scorched clearing. A barrier.
Remy lifted one hand and murmured something in fae—low, fluid, laced with ancient magic.
The barrier pulsed once… and then dropped.
And there it was.
The Living Flame Tree.
It towered in the center of the clearing, roots embedded in obsidian rock, its bark charred black with veins of molten gold glowing between the ridges. Its leaves were flames, actual fire, flickering silently, pulsing with rhythm like a living heartbeat. The air smelled of ash and lightning.
“Wow,” I whispered, awe in every breath. “I had no idea this existed.”
“It’s a fae artifact,” Remy said as he dismounted, walking ahead of me toward the glowing tree. “Only the royals have access…”
He glanced over his shoulder and added with a wry grin, “And me.”
I slid off Kaelith’s back, heart still pounding, and moved closer.
“Collect the ash,” Remy said softly. “The barrier won’t be down for long.”
The flames danced above us as if they were alive.
I stepped toward the tree with careful reverence, the heat rolling off its flaming leaves licking at my skin without burning. The air shimmered around it, thick with magic and memory. I kneeled beside the base, where golden-tinged ash had settled like powdered starlight across the obsidian earth.
With slow fingers, I gathered the ash into a small silk pouch, the magic tingling across my palms with every scoop. It felt alive—like something watching me even as I worked.
When I stood, pouch secured at my belt, we turned to leave the clearing.
The moment we crossed the perimeter, the barrier snapped back into place behind us, like a heartbeat sealing shut. A shimmer rippled outward, forming a perfect globe around the tree once more, veiling it in layers of firelight and illusion.
I paused, staring at the spectacle.
“It’s so beautiful,” I whispered.
Remy stepped closer, his voice softer than I expected. “It’s not the only beautiful thing here.”
I turned, and met his gaze.
His eyes held something unspoken, quiet and burning beneath the surface. He stepped closer, only inches between us now, and time felt like it had slowed. His lips parted, lowering toward mine with breathless intent.
But Kaelith growled.
Low. Warning.
