Page 24 of Echoes of Fire

He moved on, leaving Krazath to glower at me from the edge of the passage. I stared back, letting him see the warning in my eyes.

If he tried coming near Orla again, I’d finish what I started.

My tail lashed behind me as I marched on, refusing to engage. Whispers were turning to poison, the wind in Scalvaris carrying rumors that sharpened like blades. If I stayed idle, they’d come for Orla the moment they sensed weakness.

I wasn’t slow or soft. I’d walk straight through a wall of flame for her.

But the Mating Challenge? That might be a step too far.

Something would break soon, and I’d damn well make sure it wasn’t her.

EIGHT

ORLA

The combat arena vibrated with an energy that sank into my bones, an undercurrent of heat and expectation that made the air feel electric. It wasn’t just noise or movement—it was this pulsing vitality, as if the cavern was alive, fueled by the clash of blades and the rhythmic pacing of trained warriors.

I leaned forward on the rough-hewn stone bench in the observation area, the grit beneath me scraping against the thin fabric of my tunic. My presence here felt wrong—a guest in a moment that wasn’t mine—but I was too curious to resist.

That, and Rath had asked.

“Here, try this,” Eden said, pressing closer to my side as she handed me something wrapped in foil. “Earth candy. Save me before I scarf it all down myself.”

The cheerful, fluorescent colors on the wrapper were almost outrageous in this environment—like smuggling daylight into shadows. I lifted an eyebrow at her, but her grin was irrepressible, her dark brown eyes bright with the kind of humor that disarmed you before you knew it. Eden’s energy was like standing too close to a sparkler, irritating and charming all at once.

“Your heroism knows no bounds,” I replied dryly, taking the candy. The foil crinkled as I unwrapped it. The candy hit my tongue like a slap of concentrated sweetness, the fake fruitiness coating everything in a way that felt nearly alien after weeks of consuming krysfruit and slabs of burnt meat.

“You’re welcome,” Eden said, popping a second piece into her mouth with a dramatic snap. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees as her gaze swept over the warriors below. “Which one’s Rath?”

I scanned the pit, my eyes darting from winged figures to shimmering scales, searching for that particular sharpness that had become so familiar. Swaying tails twitched, claws glinted, and blades thick with heat refracted dim light until finding him in the crowd felt impossible.

Then it wasn’t.

That moment when I spotted Rath was like swinging a door open too fast and catching a blade of sunlight. My thoughts snagged because this wasn’t the Rath I was used to—not the watchful, tightly-coiled man who spoke with clipped words and calm truths. No, this figure moved with an effortless swagger that made something deep inside of me tighten with want.

Oh, hell.

“How could you miss him?” I heard myself mumbling. His imposing frame cut through the chaos. Other warriors were strong, brutal even, but Rath’s presence was something distinct, an unfamiliar language of danger and grace—power in its rawest form. His scales reflected light like shards of glass, catching every flicker of motion in a way that created a halo of shimmering, restless energy around him. His wings unfolded slightly; not wide, but calculated, like a wolf showing just enough teeth to let you know it wasn’t interested in playing nice.

“Never mind,” Eden said in awe, her voice breaking my spell as she zeroed in on him. “Found him. Seriously, though, yourguy could probably walk into a room and set it on fire just by existing.”

Heat crept up my throat, uncomfortable and unwelcome. “He’s not my guy.” I wasn’t sure if the words were meant to rebuff her or convince myself. Feeling Eden’s sidelong glance, I sighed and forced a casual shrug, but the movement felt unnatural, wrong. “He just … knows how to make himself seen. That’s all.”

Eden turned her half-smirk my way for just a second too long. “Sure,” she said, her voice dripping with disbelief. Her posture instantly melted back into something more casual as she leaned forward again, resting her chin on one hand. “But seriously, that presence. Like, if someone so much as looked at me the way Rath looks at you …”

I groaned, cutting her off as she dragged the words out like each one had worth in its own right. “Eden. Please.”

She smiled, lifting her hands in a playful gesture of surrender. “Fine. Commentary off. But the fact that you’re still red? Not my fault.”

In the arena below, Rath advanced on his sparring partner—a warrior whose movements began with confidence but quickly transformed to hesitation. Rath’s blade didn’t move like the others, didn’t try to impress. It sought efficiency.

Watching him was like watching the beach grind down stone: violent and inevitable but removed from petty emotion. Even the air around him seemed different, a slight stillness in the invisible space between moves that put spectators on their heels.

It wasn’t theatrical. It was purpose built for destruction.

“Doesn’t hold back, does he?” Eden asked. Her earlier levity had dimmed, replaced by something quieter.

“No,” I replied, swallowing hard. My hands clutched the edge of the bench. “He never does.”

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