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It takes a few seconds, but my vision eventually clears. My head pounds as I stare up at my stepfather. But he’s no longer looking at me. He’s looking at Victor.

“She’s out. What do you want me to do with her?” he asks.

If Victor answers, I can’t hear him. The heat in my belly and chest coalesces, the burn becoming unbearable. A ragged gasp escapes my mouth, followed by a trail of smoke. Heston turns toward me just as the fire inside me explodes outward.

My scream is drowned out by Heston’s as flames burst from my body to devour his face and arms. Before my eyes, blisters and burns form on all his exposed skin.

His hand leaves my throat as his screams continue. I fall to the ground as he backs away, his hands lifting to his face. I use the tree behind me to push myself to my feet, and my watery eyes meet Victor’s.

“You’re a witch!” he yells, pointing at me.

I look down at my hands and see a thin coat of flames dancing along my skin. Somehow, my dress is untouched by the fire, though tiny flames lick at the hem of the skirt, catching a few fallen leaves on fire.

“I suppose I am,” I answer, lifting my eyes to his.

The heat is all around me now, like a shield of living flame.

Heston falls to the ground between us, groaning as he clutches his scorched face. I shouldn’t enjoy the sight, but I do. After all his scheming and his cold demeanor toward me, I don’t really care what happens to him.

When I look back at Victor, I take a step toward him. He immediately backs up, which makes me smile. At least until he pulls a large hunting knife from behind the small of his back.

“Fire or no, you die today, witch,” he grunts out.

The heat is building inside me again, but not fast enough. It’s nowhere near the strength it was when I hit Heston with it. It’s not my only problem because I have no idea how I managed it the first time. My grandmother always said I had magic, but I don’t know how to control whatever this is.

He can only limp toward me, but I can barely move. My head spins too violently. The edges of my vision are gray. I know I will pass out if I move too quickly, so running away to escape him isn’t an option.

The fire still dances on my skin, so perhaps I can use it to protect myself.

I focus on creating a shell with it, something hard enough to stop a knife from piercing the surface. Victor continues to limp toward me, his face red with fury and pain. Blood runs down his leg, leaving a trail behind.

I brace myself against the tree trunk, preparing to fight back, to try to throw fire at him, but a dark blur explodes from the trees to my right.

Straight toward Victor.

I blink, and my vision clears enough for me to see the giant black wolf land on Victor’s chest. With a snarl, he leans down and uses his sharp fangs to rip out Victor’s throat.

“Thank the goddess,” I murmur before my legs give way and I collapse to the ground.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Conall

At the sight of my mate falling to the ground, my wolf recedes, leaving me standing naked in the woods.

“Scarlett!” Her name falls from my lips as I run toward her.

Hunter appears in the trees not far behind her, his face a mask of fear. I reach our mate first, gently turning her onto her back. Relief fills me when I see her eyes are open and her chest is moving.

She’s alive.

Leaning over her prone form, I ask, “Where are you hurt?”

She licks her lips before she answers, her eyes heavy and dark. “Hit my head pretty good,” she mumbles. “Several times. Think that’s the worst of it.”

Scarlett blinks slowly before closing her eyes completely. The sight terrifies me. I have no idea what to do with an injured human.

“Don’t go to sleep, Little Red,” Hunter admonishes, skidding to a halt on his knees on the other side of her body.