Page 22 of Heiress of Fire

Davina lifted her gaze to Isaiah, who was already looking at her. Amir nudged him, causing him to break his stare from Davina and follow after him.

Davina furrowed her brow before she and her Soldier friends stood up and reached for one sheet of parchment for themselves.

Amir and Isaiah distributed several quills around the table, each dipped in a small glass ink bowl.

Davina remained in her seat while she stared blankly at the letters in front of her. Her mind was empty of any possible answers. It was taking all of her strength to keep her mind free of the black lips and gray skin of the fallen Predators.

After some time of quietness in the Great Archives, Caleb began to jump in his place as he struggled to find his own words. Everyone turned to him with scrunched eyebrows and annoyance striking their faces.

“Spit it out!” Snow exclaimed.

“I think I got it,” Caleb said, laying the parchment over the table, almost spilling ink in the process.

His writing below had been the attention of them all. Messy but understandable, the letters read:

YOUR END IS IMMINENT, BELLATORM.

“From, Raven,” Caleb finished.

SEVEN

The last rays of the sun had been replaced by moonlight for some time now. He was supposed to go to Castellum to help with the social event for the Prey. The event was over by then.

The mattress engulfed Ron as he was comforted by the warmth of his weighted quilts. He rubbed his temples, yet his eyes remained wide open.

Ron’s stare was glued to the ceiling of his chambers, dark circles hovering below his eyes. Part of him longed for the curly-haired girl he had come to care for, but shame locked him down to his bed.

He yearned to lay in her arms. Since that night, when they were wrapped in each other’s embrace, he realized that she had the magical ability to hold him together when he felt like he was falling apart. He wished to smell the sweetness of her hair, which was a candied mixture of hibiscus and vanilla. He’d always think of her whenever he would walk by the Petal stores stocked with flowers.

The weight in his chest had become stronger than his will to live.

He’d mistakenly allowed Davina to see how much his dormant powers affected him. Hopefully, she didn’t notice his absence today, or else he’d have to find answers to questions he wasn’t ready to respond to.

For years, perseveringly, he’d practiced and practiced until he realized that nothing would ever come through. He wanted to be more than a pair of hot hands. After years of no abilities manifesting, he gave up. He decided to be the best warrior with dormant abilities there could ever be. He learned to master every weapon, every punch, every kick, and every height.

Yet, nothing filled the void because of his lack of magical competence.

Davina seemed like the right person to understand. She had powers of her own, but her powers were different just like he was. And she was such a good person. He’d hoped that she could be a friend to speak to about his troubles, but when he knew of the tribulations she suffered at home with her parents and from the bystanders of the world, he retracted from ever sharing his truth with her.

The truth of his depression. Ron didn’t desire to be one more headache for her.

He could never forget the night he found her hiding in the woods, drenched in water and with bruises covering her arms. That was when he realized the abuse and neglect she had suffered since she was a child. He offered his home as refuge and money so she could find her own place. He asked her if there were any other family members for her to live with, but she politely declined everything. Ron remembered how he had asked her to stay away from her parents, but she held a dutiful heart for her siblings.

He loved that she was responsible for them, yet he hated how she would get hurt. Davina was always there to protect them, but no one was there to protect her.

Memories of that foggy night rushed back to him.

On his usual nightly stroll, he was able to capture the small sobs of a girl resounding from deep inside the woods. He left the cobblestone path and immersed himself in the trees, following the direction of the quiet whimpers. These cries were strange to him. It seemed to him as though the girl who was crying was trying to force herself to remain silent. Ron could hear her gasp for air, her pain forcefully clogging her windpipes. His heart clenched.

Ron found the girl with her shoulders shaking, sitting on a log.

He approached her quietly, reaching for her shoulder. “Are you alright, miss?”

Her curly hair whipped almost immediately at his touch. She fell off the log she was sitting on. The moonlight shined over her beady eyes—so beautiful, yet so sad.

Ron recognized her as the girl from Valerie’s birthday party, Davina. His eyes rushed to the dark purple spots over her arms, her curly hair weighed down from the top, and the dried mud that coated her dress. The warm smile that captivated him was long gone, replaced by only despair. She stood.

“No, don’t worry,” he began. “I’m Ron, Beacon’s brother. We met at Valerie’s party.”

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