Page 70 of Shrine of Fire

“Hopefully that won’t be needed,” Hashir said. “But you never know. We’re trying to put a primordial spirit back into her prison. Anything could happen.”

“Thank you.” I stepped out of his embrace. “I want to find the altar room.”

“I’m going to scout the area. There’s a lot of tunnels.” Aki stepped to the side.

“I’ll accompany you to the altar room.” Kalahar stepped next to me, almost but not quite brushing against me.

My mouth felt dry as the sudden need for him blasted through me. Hella Mora’s sorrow had made me cold inside, and all I wanted was to warm myself in the fire of the phoenix spirit’s embrace.

“Come on, Cuan.” Hashir put his arm around the big beta’s shoulders. “Show us around the highlands.”

I wanted to yell at Hashir for his lack of subtlety again, but he left before I could.

Kalahar and I walked deeper into the mountain, the cold crisp air setting a chill in my bones. Kalahar lifted his hand, palm up, and lit the passageway.

I rubbed my shoulders. Despite the heavy cloak, the chill of the dead air made me nervous.

“It will come alive again.” Kalahar opened a thick stone door, and we stepped into the altar room.

“Even the Shrine of Everlasting Fire didn’t feel like this.” I shuddered, as Kalahar closed the door behind me.

It was a small, earthen room. Cozy, with a thick stone slab for an altar, and smooth stone making the room a near circle.

The silver-blue anastasis box sat in a carved groove on the altar. I ran my hands over the runes carved deep into the stone, trying to bring some life back into this place.

“This Shrine would have fallen first, when spirit magic left the land so dependent on it.” Kalahar came to stand next to me and rubbed his hand on my back.

He was warm, comforting, like a warm hearth on a rainy day. I sighed. “Each time she manifests it’s like she’s stealing pieces of my soul.”

“She’s trying, at least.” Kalahar pulled me against him. “I won’t let her take you. I will seal her away with the last scrap of my essence if that’s what’s needed.”

“I won’t let her hurt you.” I shook my head. “She keeps reminding me of what I lost, and now it makes me fight for what I have even more.”

Kalahar chuckled. “That will prove to be her downfall, more than any of my own spirit magic.”

“Did they ask you to help because they thought you would be able to seal her away easier than others?”

“Yes.” Kalahar wrapped his arms around me. “I hate that she hurts you. It’s a dreadful thing, to disturb someone’s natural healing process.”

I sighed against his chest, the warmth of his touch enveloping me. Slowly, heat filtered through me, filling all the places that were cold.

“Did it work?” I whispered.

“No,” he chuckled. “Spirit magic isn’t about opposites. Just because I’m a spirit of life and fire and death doesn’t make me stronger than a spirit of death and cold and life.”

The feeling of being safe and warm persisted, of being tucked under blankets by those I loved.

“Do you want me to show you how to cleanse some of your pain? As I have promised?”

“Yes.” I looked up into his fire eyes. “If you’re able to show me.”

“You are receptive already, fire omega.” He smiled, and the warmth radiated through me, like he’d paid me the highest of compliments. “Open your heart.”

I closed my eyes, Kalahar’s hands on my shoulders steadying me.

I tried. I thought about springtime with my Gran, about picking daisies with the other village children. I thought about when my designation came one autumn morning, how Gran chuckled and let me have a sip of plum wine.

But Gran had died of the winter fever. My magic had come in, and I couldn’t restrain the power. Flames had licked up our little cottage, and I couldn’t control it.

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