Page 87 of Heat of the Everflame

My control snapped. With hardly a choice, I surrendered.

And Iburned.

Chapter

Twenty

Everything was fire.

The glowing destruction was an infinite expanse. My skin, my clothes, my breath, my vision, my heart—all of it transformed into a searing, oppressive blaze that flooded the world in orange and red. The crackle of the flames turned deafening as I spun in search of a way out, finding only more fire, more fire,more fire.

It was as much inside me as on me and around me. My soul was smoldering, my spirit scorched. There was no “burning” and “not burning.” There was only the fire.

Everywhere, the fire.

And the strangest part was that it feltincredible.

There was no pain, no welts or blisters—only the most exquisite sensation of release. The flames burned away the tension in my muscles and melted the fear clutching my heart. I felt lightweight, liberated, unleashed from some long dormant cage. It was a carnal kind of pleasure that had me laughing, then gasping, then moaning.

I was a creature of the embers, fire incarnate, a living flame. If this was what it meant to burn, I wanted to burn forever.

Maybe I would. This was how I’d always envisioned eternity in the Everflame of the mortal religions. Perhaps I had died on that beach—a surprise attack by the Ignios King, thrusting me into the afterlife without warning. Perhaps the great sacred tree had found my soul worthy and was welcoming me into the warmth of the Undying Fire.

Perhaps my father would be here. He would wrap me into one of his loving hugs and tell me he had been watching me. That he wasproudof me. Dying wouldn’t be so bad then. I missed him so much. So very, very much.

But when I walked deeper into the flames and gazed into my forever, a different man’s face stared back. One look at those blue-grey eyes, so aglow with concern, and I knew it was not my time.

Not yet.

He called out my name, the sound of it resonating deep inside me. He was so close...

Tooclose.

“I’ll burn you,” I protested. I backed away and moved deeper into the sea. The rolling tide rose to my chest, the flames gurgling beneath the water.

Luther didn’t relent, slowly following me into the waves, though his features twisted in pain.

“Go back,” I pleaded. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s not—” He locked up, his body shuddering.

“Luther,please, stop, the flames are burning you!”

“They’re not. They won’t.” His voice was unwavering despite the discomfort written all over his face. He stretched out his hand. “Let me touch you.”

He was so confident, so staunchly certain. And he had never led me astray before.

Tentative, terrified, I walked toward him.

My fingers trembled as they curled around his. I scoured his reaction for any sign of pain, but my touch seemed to have the opposite effect. The tightness in his jaw, the strain in his muscles—it melted away the moment he folded me into his arms.

“Deep breaths,” he urged. “I’ve got you.”

I realized I was gasping with panic, heaving for air. I slumped against him and forced my lungs to slow until each breath matched the soft, steady rise of his chest.

“You’re mastering it so quickly,” he murmured into my hair, his tone full of pride. “Our clothes aren’t even burning.”

I glanced down. The fabric enrobing both our bodies was intact, soaked beneath the water but dry where it touched the flames.

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