Night cloaked the world in stillness, but Ember's heart beat with thunder.
She and Kael moved through the forest under the cover of moonlight, branches brushing against their cloaks like whispers. Behind them, the forge flickered miles away—distant, safe. Ahead, the shadows thickened.
Their target: a small outpost rumored to house a Flame King informant.
Their goal: retrieve or destroy a map detailing rebel tunnels and strongholds.
Their risk: everything.
Kael's fingers brushed Ember's as they approached the clearing. "You don't have to come."
"I do," she said. "This is my fight now, too."
They stopped just beyond the tree line. From there, they could see the outpost—three tents, a watchfire, and a pair of guards in red half-armor. Inside one of the tents was the map. Ember could feel it, like a weight in the air.
Kael looked at her. "On my signal, draw the guards toward the right. I'll go left, slip into the tent, and grab the map."
"You trust me with that?"
He smiled, but there was a shadow in it. "I trust you with my life."
Ember stepped from the shadows, summoning a soft flicker of flame in her palm—just enough to catch the guards' attention.
"Hey!" one of them shouted. "Over there!"
She let them chase her into the trees, dancing just out of reach, her flames teasing and dodging. She wasn't just bait—she was a blaze with a will of her own. Sparks kissed her heels. Branches caught fire in her wake.
But something felt off.
Too easy.
Where were the reinforcements?
Meanwhile, Kael crept through the tent flap. The map lay on a small wooden table, weighted by a dagger. He snatched it and turned—
And stopped.
There was no one else inside. No backup. No lookout.
This wasn't an intel outpost.
It was a trap.
Ember felt it a moment later.
A coldness pressing against her spine, despite the heat she carried.
She spun—and came face to face with a soldier cloaked in shadow. Not red-armored. Not from the king's army.
These men wore black steel—silent, faceless, fast.
The Shadow Legion.
One moved behind her and struck.
She dropped, rolled, flame bursting from her hands in a defensive ring—but another darted through the fire as if it were smoke.
They weren't afraid of her.
Not even a little.
Kael heard her cry from the trees.
"Ember!"
He bolted from the tent just in time to see her surrounded by four shadow warriors. She was holding her own, flames dancing across her arms and crackling through her hair, but they moved in a rhythm designed to wear her down.
Kael drew his twin blades.
He charged.
Steel clashed with flame. The clearing lit in bursts of fire and sparks. Kael fought with the fury of a man protecting his soul.
Ember moved like a storm unleashed.
Their rhythm—his blades, her fire—sang in sync.
Until one of the shadows drove a knife toward Kael's side.
Ember saw it.
She threw herself between them.
The blade pierced her shoulder.
"No!" Kael caught her before she hit the ground, rage igniting behind his eyes.
His flames erupted—not from Ember, but from him.
It shocked even her.
She hadn't known Kael could wield fire.
But the blaze that burst from him was wild, dangerous—different from hers. Red as blood, edged with black.
He drove it through the last of the shadows, burning them to ash.
Then he knelt beside her, cradling her to his chest.
"Ember, stay with me," he whispered, voice shaking.
She winced, eyes fluttering. "Since when… can you do that?"
"I didn't want you to know."
Her breath caught. "Why?"
"Because the kind of fire in me… isn't the same as yours."
Back at the forge, Talon and Rowan stood at the gates, watching smoke rise in the distance.
"They encountered the Shadow Legion," Talon said grimly.
Rowan turned to him. "Do you think Kael protected her?"
"I think," Talon said, "Kael's starting to realize he can't have both the mission and the girl."