Page 54 of Fired Up Love

Ancient script lined the walls—draconic symbols his father claimed had been lost to time. Mentions of a sacred pact between three bloodlines: dragon, lion, and panther.

His dragon reacted powerfully to the chamber, scales rippling visibly beneath his skin as ancestral memories stirred. This place belonged to him somehow—not as a possession but as heritage, as duty.

FIFTY-TWO

Zina moved toward the triangular flame, her steps certain despite never having seen the chamber before. Firelight caressed her features, highlighting the delicate arch of her cheekbones and the determined set of her jaw. The sight stole Xai’s breath—she belonged here, belonged with him in this ancient place.

“The gold flame represents the Parker line,” she murmured, knowledge surfacing from somewhere deep. “The red is Emberwylde.” Her fingers reached toward the golden flame. “And the purple...”

“Panthera,” came a voice from the darkness.

They spun to find Severin Madrigal emerging from a hidden entrance opposite their stairs, flanked by four burly enforcers. “Though it should burn brighter for the Gravemont/Madrigal line. We are, after all, the true bloodline.”

Xai moved protectively in front of Zina, though she stepped beside him instead of remaining behind his shield. Her rejection of his protection should have irritated his dragon side, but instead, pride filled him—a lioness who stood as equal, not subordinate.

“This belongs to Enchanted Falls,” she stated firmly, chin lifting in defiance. “Not any single family.”

Severin’s laugh lacked humor. “Such noble sentiments from someone who didn’t know this chamber existed until today.”

“How did you get in here?” Xai demanded, heat building beneath his skin.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Severin gestured lazily. “The magic knows who should reign true in this town.”

He nodded to his enforcers, who spread out around the chamber, cutting off both exits. “Now, I’ll assume control of the Founding Pyre as is my right by blood.”

“Not happening,” Zina snarled, her eyes flashing amber.

The first enforcer lunged without warning, shifting mid-leap into partial lion form—human body with leonine claws and teeth, a forbidden technique that risked magical corruption but granted tremendous power. Xai countered with a controlled blast of fire that drove the attacker back without causing serious harm.

The chamber erupted into chaos. Two enforcers circled Zina while another pair engaged Xai, clearly hoping to separate them.

They underestimated the synchronicity that had developed between dragon and lioness. Without training or planning, they moved in perfect harmony—Xai’s controlled fire attacks balanced by Zina’s swift, precise movements.

Whenever an enforcer threatened Zina’s blind spot, Xai was there with a wall of flame. When one attempted to rush Xai during a vulnerable moment, Zina appeared as if conjured, her partially extended claws driving the attacker back. They protected each other instinctively like partners who had fought side by side for centuries.

As the fight intensified, Xai felt his control slipping—not from weakness but from mounting protective rage. Scales erupted along his arms and neck, his eyes blazing red as wings partly materialized from his back, shredding the fine fabric of his suit jacket. He had revealed more of his true draconic nature in this chamber than anyone had witnessed in centuries.

Instead of fear, Zina used his transformation to tactical advantage. “Left flank, Flame-Boy!” she called, diving beneath his extended wing as he blasted attackers away from her.

A rumbling laugh escaped him despite the dire situation. “Copy that, Claw-Queen,” he responded, feeling freer than he had in centuries.

Outnumbered but perfectly matched, they gradually forced Severin and his enforcers toward the hidden entrance they’d used.

“This isn’t over,” Severin snarled, blood trickling from a claw mark across his cheek. “The blood moon rises tomorrow night. By dawn, the Founding Pyre will recognize its true master.”

He retreated with his battered enforcers, leaving Xai and Zina alone in the ancient chamber.

The adrenaline of battle faded, leaving them breathing hard, eyes locked across the space illuminated by the tri-colored flames. Xai suddenly became acutely aware of his transformed state—scales visible along his arms and neck, wings partially extended. He concentrated on pulling back his draconic features, embarrassed by his loss of control.

“Don’t,” Zina said softly, approaching with deliberate steps. She reached up, her fingers gently tracing the scales along his jawline with something akin to wonder. “Don’t hide from me. Your dragon is beautiful.”

Something cracked open in Xai’s chest—a barrier he hadn’t realized existed until this lioness had walked through it like it was made of smoke. Her touch against his scales sent waves of pleasure through his system, a connection deeper than physical.

“No one has ever said that before,” he admitted, voice rough with emotion. “Most find the transformation...unsettling.”

“Most people are idiots.” Her amber eyes reflected the firelight, turning them to liquid gold. “I’ve seen your control, your restraint. This—” her fingers moved along his scaled cheek, “—this is the real you. Why would I fear that?”

He reached up, clasping her hand against his face. Her palm felt cool against his heated skin, a perfect counterbalance. The tri-colored flames of the Founding Pyre illuminated them in dancing light, casting them in gold, purple, and red.

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