Page 12 of Scorched By Fate

I shook my head sharply as I entered the forge, the heat’s familiar, oppressive weight closing in fast. It swallowed errant thoughts more effectively than I could. Routine would reset the balance, suppress whatever inconvenient chaos simmered below the surface.

Let it burn out there. Let the heat melt these edges back to something sharp and manageable.

I grabbed a chunk of heat crystal from a supply chest, its grain rough beneath my claws. The chamber was sweltering, hotter than before, but I welcomed it. Anything to sweat out this ridiculous storm in my mind.

It wasn’t enough.

The ache that had spread deep within my chest didn’t seem to care about logic. It pushed like a simmering pulse against my ribs now, low and insistent. The hammer in my claw was supposed to relieve it. Instead, it dug in further.

I didn’t notice I’d started shaping something new until the clang of metal echoed differently, the sound resonating sharper, crisper than my usual molds. A half-formed blade—a simple design, nothing ornate—formed something rough in my claws.

Selene didn’t need weapons. She needed solutions.

But I had none to give.

SIX

SELENE

The cavern was quieter now. The murmur of the sick had stilled, replaced by the hushed voices of Rachel and Kaiya. They were bent low over the wooden table, barely large enough to hold the fragments of gear Orla had pieced together for them. Soft light glinted off Rachel’s sweat-streaked hair as she adjusted her makeshift lens, her hands steady as steel. Kaiya hovered beside her, fingers twitching with nervous energy, curiosity radiating like heat from embers.

My gaze flicked between them and the motionless figures of the healers on the other side of the cavern. The air hung thick, metallic with the scent of spilled blood and old herbs.

“Focus the light here,” Rachel said, her voice calm despite the tension buried beneath it. She leaned closer to the sample spread thin across a shard of glass. “We need to confirm the structure. If this doesn’t match …”

She let the words trail off. They didn’t need finishing. If the medical researcher and xenobiologist couldn't crack this puzzle, it wasn't getting solved.

Kaiya adjusted the light source, her curly hair sticking to her damp forehead. “Got it. There—look. The edges. It’s formingthose patterns you mentioned.” Her voice pitched upward, eager, like she’d forgotten the dead-weight anxiety pressing down on the room.

I stepped closer. “What does that mean?” My voice came out rougher than I meant, but they didn’t flinch.

Rachel straightened. Her finger traced the edge of the sample through the lens. “The biochemical structure is consistent with what Mysha described before she passed out. If this plant extract works the way she implied, it should bolster their immune systems and support recovery.”

"You're talking about a cure?"

Rachel screwed her face up. "Not exactly. We don't know what's causing the illness. I've been reading Mysha's notes. Or trying to. My Drakarn is still—" She cut herself off. "If anything is going to help, it's this."

"What is it?" They had a vial of dust on their workstation, and there was some kind of paste in a mortar and pestle.

"It's called vyrathis."

Kaiya was wide-eyed. “We’ve got enough for one dose.”

An ache twisted somewhere deep in my chest. I kept my expression steady. “Then we dose Mysha.” I stared at the fragment of fluid and crushed leaf spread thin on the glass. The pungent scent of the plant pricked at my nose, sharp and earthy.

It didn’t look like salvation. But it felt heavier than anything else in the room.

“How long will it take to see results?” I asked, shifting my weight as I glanced toward the elder’s still form, half-buried under blankets.

Rachel exhaled low. “No idea.” Her voice stayed calm, but her eyes narrowed in focus as she carefully lifted the sample away and moved toward the small vial beside her. “Are we doing this?”

I let my gaze drag across the cavern again. The sick Drakarn were barely breathing, their scaled chests barely rising. Mysha’sform looked small in the wide space. Fragile. It wasn’t a word I’d ever associated with the Drakarn before arriving here.

I shoved the thought deep.

"Do it."

Rachel’s motions were exact, her hands moving with care honed from years of research in the lab. Kaiya hovered beside her, chewing her lip as she held the light steady.

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