Page 92 of Master of My Life

his skin, but it didn’t move closer.

Chase frowned. A perfect circle of fire around him. What was going on?

He glanced toward the window. The flames were lower over there. He could get a good jump and

minimize the burns.

A voice came from the fire. “This is your warning, Elder-Son.” Chase whipped his head around.

The fire grew higher and hotter and he could see a distinct shadow of a man in the flames. “Sabrina is

mine,” the figure whispered. “Accept this and live.”

Chase narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”

The figure gave a low laugh. “The one you have been looking for. I am here. I am he.” The

shadow’s arms stretched out to its side. “But you will not know me until I decide it is time.”

The flames drew closer, singeing Chase’s face, but he didn’t back away. He glared at the figure.

“Sabrina is mine. I have her heart.”

“Her heart.” The figure scoffed. “Meaningless. I have her soul.”

“Not for much longer.”

The flames grew brighter and hotter. Chase squinted and held up his hand, trying to find the

shadow-man again. His skin and lungs burned. “You are a fool, Elder-Son,” came a low whisper from

behind him.

Chase leaped away, nearly landing in the fire, but he held his balance. He turned in time to duck

away from a flaming sword swinging in an arc toward his head. The sword missed his head but hit

his ribs. Chase groaned as the heat seared his side. Looking down, he saw his skin was burned and

bleeding where the sword had struck him. Sweat pooled down his face as he pushed the pain aside

and moved into a fighting stance, briefly questioning his sanity of trying to take on living fire with his

hands. How in the hell was he supposed to fight this thing?

“Run,” a different voice growled from behind. Another figure stepped in front of Chase wielding

a sword of flames. An Immortal? It looked like it, but he was made of fire. A gap in the blaze

appeared near the window. Chase hurried over and pushed the window. Cold air streamed inside and

he sucked in the clean air.

“Khyan!” the shadow spat. “You have betrayed me.”

The one called Khyan turned and faced Chase. “Leave now. Or you will never escape.” He turned

his back and lunged toward the first figure, the flaming sword in his hand.

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