Page 63 of Kiss of Fire

And then the flames, everywhere.

This time she saw the demon’s face. Saw its confusion and shock as her flames hit it, and then it was melted out of existence.

She jerked. That detail was new. Her powers must have unconsciously targeted the demon first.

And now she had to face the part she dreaded most. She quailed but Tor encouraged her.

“Keep going, Raya. You have to do this.”

She was powerless to stop her memory. The dash into the hallway. The brief moment of relief, quickly replaced by horror. The despair and pain with the realisation that she had lost the people she loved most.

“Tor, I can’t. I can’t do this.”

“You need to accept what happened. You can’t move forward until you do.”

She steeled herself to look. To relive the terrible scene that haunted her dreams. And this time she saw, reallysawwhat was there.

Caroline and Ross crumpled on the floor, engulfed in the flames she’d created. They were burning, yes, and that was dreadful enough. But now through adult eyes, she saw what she hadn’t seen as a child.

Their limbs twisted into strange angles. Their necks bent unnaturally.

The torturous position of their bodies gave away the truth. They were dead before the fire reached them.

The demon must have killed them while she sat waiting in the kitchen. That strange sound she’d heard, that choking sound. That had been Caroline dying.

Grief and anger rushed through her like twin tidal waves. Nothing had changed. And yeteverythinghad changed.

Her adopted parents were still dead. But not at her hands.

The truth wouldn’t bring them back. Her grief was still raw, still piercing. But now at least she knew she wasn’t responsible for their deaths.

She watched the flames roll through the house and was finally able to let go of her bone-crushing guilt.

She was dimly aware of Tor crying out. With an effort, she remembered this wasn’t real. She wasn’t a child anymore.

The scene evaporated and she was back in the forge. It took a moment to orient herself, to find herself in the now.

Tor was sprawled on his back looking up at her. Her lashes were wet with tears. Her body prickled with a strange energy that felt both alien yet familiar.

And her hands were alight with fire.

Twenty Three

She held them up, wonderingly. The flames were a delicate shade of pink and orange, almost pretty. She couldn’t feel any heat from them. But evidently therewasheat, because Tor stood up rubbing his arm gingerly.

“You nearly took my eyebrows off,” he said. “Are you all right?”

“Better than all right. Look at this. I did it!”

“Aye, you did. You’ve found your balance. Your aura is a beautiful orange now and the bruising has gone. Almost gone,” he amended, peering closely. “There’s still a tinge of guilt there.”

“It’s because I’m not completely blameless for what happened to Caroline and Ross,” she said slowly. “If I hadn’t been with them, the demon would never have killed them. But to know I didn’t directly cause their deaths…” she took a deep breath and exhaled. “I didn’t realise how much it had affected me.”

“Their deaths will always be a part of you. But you can use it. That memory is what triggered your power. Can you control the flames? Direct them?”

She concentrated on her hands. For a moment, the flames burned blue. Then they returned to their normal pinky-orange shade.

“It’s harder than it looks.”

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