Sera's POV
I ran like death itself was chasing me.
Because it was.
My feet slapped against wet cobblestones as I sprinted through the dark streets of Emberhaven. Behind me, angry voices shouted. Uncle Damien's men. Getting closer.
My lungs burned. My legs screamed. I'd been running for ten minutes straight, and I couldn't keep this up much longer.
"There she is!" a rough voice yelled.
I glanced back. Three men, all bigger and stronger than me, were gaining ground. My heart hammered against my ribs so hard it hurt.
I had to lose them. Fast.
Up ahead, golden light spilled onto the street. The opera house! Rich people were streaming inside, dressed in silk and jewels. I'd never been inside a place like that before—street rats like me weren't welcome.
But right now, I didn't care.
I pushed through the crowd at the entrance, ignoring the shocked gasps. A security guard reached for me, but I ducked under his arm and burst through the doors into the lobby.
Wow.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, throwing rainbow light everywhere. The floor was so shiny I could see my reflection—dirty, bloody, and completely out of place among all these wealthy people in their expensive clothes.
"Miss, you can't be in here," a man in a fancy uniform said, moving toward me.
I spun away from him, pushing deeper into the crowd. I needed to blend in, to disappear. But how could I blend in when everyone here looked like royalty and I looked like a beggar?
My eyes scanned the crowd desperately, looking for an exit, a hiding place, anything—
Then I saw him.
A man stood near a marble pillar, and something about him made everyone else in the room fade away. He was tall with dark hair and sharp features, wearing a black suit that probably cost more than my entire village. But it wasn't his looks that made my breath catch.
It was his eyes. Silver-grey, like moonlight on water.
Those were the same eyes I'd seen in the alley. The wolf's eyes.
It was him. The man who'd saved me.
He stood alone, not talking to anyone, just watching the crowd with a bored expression. Everything about him screamed money and power.
A wild idea hit me. If I could get close to him, maybe pretend I was with him, Damien's men would think twice about grabbing me in front of someone so obviously important.
Or... I could steal his wallet and have enough money to leave the city tonight.
My fingers itched. I'd gotten good at pickpocketing in the past six months. And rich people never noticed when coins went missing.
I moved through the crowd, getting closer. He still hadn't seen me. His attention was on something across the room.
This would be easy.
I slipped beside him, my hand reaching for the inside pocket of his jacket where I'd seen a hint of a leather wallet. My fingers were light, practiced, almost there—
His hand shot out and caught my wrist.
"Clever attempt," he said, his voice cold as winter.
I froze. His grip wasn't painful, but it was strong as iron. I couldn't pull away even if I tried.
Those silver eyes locked onto mine, and up close, they were even more intense. They seemed to look right through me, seeing everything I was trying to hide.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, trying to sound innocent. "I was just—"
"Stealing from me." His lips curved slightly, not quite a smile. "In a crowded opera house. Bold, but stupid."
Heat rushed to my cheeks. "I wasn't—"
Then his eyes dropped to my neck. To my mother's pendant.
Everything about him changed.
His bored expression vanished. His eyes went wide. His grip on my wrist loosened slightly, and I felt him tense up like he'd been struck by lightning.
"Where did you get that?" he demanded, his voice suddenly sharp.
"Get what?"
"That pendant." He reached toward it but stopped himself. "Where did you get it?"
"It's mine," I said defensively, pulling back. "My mother gave it to me."
"Your mother." He stared at me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. "What's your name?"
"Why do you care?"
"Your name," he repeated, more firmly.
"Sera," I said. "Seraphina Ashborne. Now let go of me."
Something flickered across his face—recognition? Shock? Before I could figure it out, the opera house doors burst open.
Damien's men pushed through the crowd, their eyes scanning for me.
My stomach dropped.
The stranger saw them too. His jaw tightened. Without warning, he pulled me behind him, positioning his body between me and the men.
"What are you—" I started.
"Quiet," he said softly. Then, even softer: "When I say run, you run. Understand?"
"No, I don't understand! Who are—"
The three men spotted us. They started pushing through the crowd, not caring who they shoved aside. People screamed and scattered.
"That's her!" one of them shouted. "Grab the girl!"
The stranger's hand moved to his side, and suddenly he was holding a thin sword that seemed to appear from nowhere. Where had he been hiding that?
"Run when I say," he repeated calmly, like three armed men weren't charging at us.
The first attacker reached us, raising his knife. The stranger moved so fast I barely saw it. His sword flashed, and the knife went flying across the room. Another movement, and the man crashed to the floor.
The second attacker swung a club at the stranger's head. He ducked smoothly, spun, and kicked the man's legs out from under him. The attacker fell hard.
It was beautiful and terrifying. He moved like a dancer, like fighting was as easy as breathing. Within seconds, two men were on the ground.
The third man pulled back, reaching for something at his belt. A crossbow.
"Now!" the stranger shouted at me. "Run!"
I ran.
This time, I heard him running behind me. We burst out of the opera house into the night air. Rain had started falling, making the streets slippery.
"This way," he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me down a side street.
We ran together through the rain, my hand in his, our footsteps echoing. I didn't know where we were going. Didn't care. All I knew was that for some reason, this stranger was protecting me.
Finally, we stopped in a dark alley. Both of us were breathing hard. The rain soaked through my clothes, and I shivered.
The stranger checked the street behind us, then turned to me. Before I could react, he moved fast, pinning me against the wall—not rough, but firm enough that I couldn't escape.
"Who are you?" I demanded, trying to sound brave even though my heart was racing.
"Who am I?" He leaned closer, his silver eyes gleaming in the darkness. "I should be asking you that question. Do you have any idea what you're wearing around your neck?"
"It's just a pendant—"
"That's not 'just' anything." His voice was intense. "That's the Phoenix Crown's seal. The symbol of the royal bloodline that was supposed to be dead for three hundred years."
I stared at him. "What are you talking about?"
"Your mother gave you that?" he asked.
"Yes, before she died in the fire. It's all I have left of her."
Something like pain crossed his face. "The fire. When was this?"
"Six months ago. My whole town burned. Everyone said it was an accident, but—" My voice broke. "But tonight I found out my uncle ordered it. He killed my parents. He tried to kill me."
The stranger's jaw clenched. "Damien Ashborne."
"How do you know his name?"
"Because I've been hunting him for two years," he said quietly. "He's responsible for more than just your town's fire."
The pieces started clicking together in my head. "You're the wolf. From the alley. You saved me."
He didn't deny it. "You shouldn't have been able to see that."
"What are you?" I whispered.
"Someone who's been looking for you for a very long time." He stepped back slightly, his eyes never leaving mine. "My name is Cassian Veylan. And you, Seraphina Ashborne, are in more danger than you can possibly imagine."
"I figured that out when people started trying to kill me!"
"You don't understand." Cassian's voice was urgent. "Those men aren't just after you because you witnessed your uncle's crimes. They're after you because of what you are. What you're supposed to become."
"I'm nobody," I said. "Just a blacksmith's daughter—"
"You're the last heir of the Phoenix Court," Cassian interrupted. "The last person alive who carries the royal bloodline. And on your seventeenth birthday, your powers were supposed to awaken."
My seventeenth birthday. That was six months ago. The day of the fire.
"I don't have any powers," I said, but even as I said it, I remembered. The pendant glowing in the alley. The warmth spreading through my body. The feeling of something waking up inside me.
"Don't you?" Cassian asked quietly.
Before I could answer, footsteps echoed at the alley entrance. We both turned.
A woman stepped into view, and she was beautiful in a scary way. Her white hair glowed in the moonlight, and her smile made ice crawl down my spine.
"Cassian Veylan," she said, her voice like honey and poison mixed together. "How delightful to see you again. And you brought me the girl. How thoughtful."
Cassian moved in front of me again. "Vivienne."
"You know," the woman—Vivienne—continued, "Damien is paying quite a lot for that little Phoenix heir. Dead or alive, though he prefers alive." Her eyes locked onto me. "So much easier to steal her powers if her heart is still beating."
My blood went cold.
"You're not touching her," Cassian said, his voice deadly quiet.
Vivienne laughed. "We'll see about that."
She raised her hand, and suddenly, the air around us began to shimmer. Colors twisted and bent. The alley seemed to stretch and warp like I was looking through broken glass.
"Memory magic," Cassian muttered. "Don't look at it, Sera. Don't—"
But I'd already looked.
The world tilted sideways. Suddenly, I wasn't in the alley anymore. I was standing in my old house in Thornwick. Everything looked exactly like I remembered—the wooden table my father built, my mother's herbs hanging from the ceiling, the warmth of the fireplace.
"Mom?" I called out. "Dad?"
"We're here, sweetheart," my mother's voice answered.
She stepped out from the kitchen, smiling. My father was right behind her. Both of them looked healthy and alive and perfect.
Tears streamed down my face. "You're alive. You're really alive."
"Of course we are," my father said. "That fire was just a bad dream. None of it was real."
Relief flooded through me so strong I almost collapsed. It was just a dream. My parents were alive. Everything was okay.
My mother opened her arms. "Come here, Sera."
I moved toward her, desperate for a hug, desperate to feel safe again—
"SERA!" Cassian's voice cut through the illusion like a knife. "It's not real! Fight it!"
My mother's face twisted into something ugly. "Don't listen to him, Sera. He's lying. We're your real family."
But something was wrong. My mother's eyes were the wrong color. And my father's voice sounded strange, too high.
"This isn't real," I whispered.
"Of course it's real," my mother insisted, but her smile was too wide, too sharp.
"No." I stepped backward. "My parents are dead. You're not them."
The illusion shattered like glass.
I was back in the alley, on my knees, gasping for air. Cassian knelt beside me, his hand on my shoulder.
"You broke free," he said, sounding impressed. "Most people can't do that on their first try."
Vivienne stood watching us, her expression annoyed. "Interesting. The girl has some resistance to memory magic. That will make things more complicated."
"Leave," Cassian ordered, standing up. "Or I'll make you leave."
"Such threats," Vivienne purred. "But you're outnumbered tonight, I'm afraid."
She snapped her fingers.
Ten more people stepped out of the shadows around us. All armed. All moving toward us with hungry expressions.
We were trapped.
Cassian looked at me, his silver eyes intense. "Do you trust me?"
"I don't even know you!"
"Do you trust me?" he repeated.
I thought about him saving me in the alley. Fighting off Damien's men at the opera house. Protecting me from this scary woman's magic.
"Yes," I said.
"Then hold on tight."
He pulled me close, his arm wrapping around my waist. His body began to change—I felt bones shifting, fur sprouting.
But before he could complete the transformation, Vivienne shouted something in a language I didn't understand.
Cassian froze mid-change. His eyes went wide with shock and pain.
"Did you really think I wouldn't come prepared?" Vivienne smiled cruelly. "Silver chains work on all wolves, Cassian. Even special ones like you."
Magical chains appeared around Cassian's wrists and neck, glowing with silver light. He fell to his knees with a gasp, the chains burning his skin.
"No!" I grabbed his arm, trying to help him up.
Vivienne's men surrounded us. There was nowhere to run.
"Now then," Vivienne said, walking closer. "Let's have a proper look at the last Phoenix heir."
She reached for my pendant.
And that's when it happened.
Heat exploded through my body. Not painful—powerful. My pendant blazed with golden light so bright everyone stumbled backward, shielding their eyes.
Flames erupted from my hands.
Real flames. Red and gold fire that danced across my fingers but didn't burn me at all.
I stared at my burning hands in shock.
Vivienne's eyes went wide. "Impossible. Her powers aren't supposed to awaken until—"
The flames grew bigger, hotter. I didn't know how to control them. They just kept growing, feeding on my fear and anger.
"Sera," Cassian said urgently, despite the chains burning him. "Listen to me. You need to calm down, or you'll burn the whole city—"
But I couldn't calm down. The fire was inside me, demanding to get out. It felt like I'd swallowed the sun.
The flames expanded outward in a wave.
Everyone scattered, even Vivienne. The silver chains around Cassian melted away, freeing him.
He grabbed my hands. "Sera, look at me!"
I looked into his silver eyes.
"Breathe," he said calmly. "Just breathe. The fire is part of you. It won't hurt you. But you have to control it, not the other way around."
I tried to breathe. Tried to calm down. Slowly, slowly, the flames shrank. They pulled back into my hands, then into my skin, until they disappeared completely.
I collapsed against Cassian, exhausted.
"We need to go," he said. "Now, before they recover."
He lifted me easily, carrying me in his arms. We ran through the streets, leaving Vivienne and her men behind in the alley.
I was too tired to argue. Too confused to think.
My hands had been on fire. Actual fire. And it hadn't hurt.
What was I?
Cassian finally stopped at a tall building and carried me up the stairs. He unlocked a door and brought me inside.
The apartment was beautiful—all dark wood and expensive furniture. But I barely noticed. I was too busy trying to process everything.
Cassian set me down gently on a soft couch. "Stay here. I'll get you some water."
He disappeared into another room.
I looked down at my hands. They looked normal now. No fire. No burns. Just my regular hands.
But I could still feel it inside me. A warmth in my chest, like embers waiting to ignite again.
Cassian returned with water and a blanket. He wrapped the blanket around my shoulders—I hadn't realized I was shivering—and handed me the glass.
I drank it all in one gulp.
"Better?" he asked.
"What's happening to me?" I whispered.
Cassian sat across from me, his silver eyes serious. "You're awakening. Becoming what you were always meant to be."
"A Phoenix heir. That's what you called me."
"Yes."
"And my uncle wants to kill me because of it."
"He wants to kill you because if you fully awaken, you'll be more powerful than him. More powerful than almost anyone in the kingdoms."
I laughed, but it came out bitter. "I'm a homeless thief who can barely keep myself fed. I'm not powerful."
"You will be." Cassian leaned forward. "But first, we need to keep you alive long enough for your powers to develop. Damien and Vivienne won't stop hunting you. They can't afford to let you survive."
"So what do I do?"
"You stay with me," Cassian said simply. "I'll protect you, train you, teach you how to use your powers. In exchange, you help me bring down your uncle and everyone working with him."
I studied his face, trying to figure out if I could trust him. "Why do you care? Why are you helping me?"
Something painful flickered across his features. "Because my family swore an oath three hundred years ago to protect the Phoenix bloodline. And because Damien and Vivienne took everything from me, just like they took everything from you. This isn't just about saving you, Sera. It's about justice."
Justice. Revenge. Maybe they were the same thing.
"Okay," I said. "I'll stay. But I want answers. Real answers. About who I am, what these powers mean, everything."
"I'll tell you everything," Cassian promised. "But not tonight. Tonight, you need to rest. You used a lot of power back there."
He was right. I felt like I could sleep for a week.
Cassian showed me to a bedroom—a real bedroom with a real bed. I couldn't remember the last time I'd slept in an actual bed.
"Lock the door if it makes you feel safer," he said. "You're safe here. I promise."
He left, closing the door quietly behind him.
I stood there for a moment, trying to process everything. This morning, I was a street thief with nothing. Now I was apparently some kind of magical princess with fire powers, and a mysterious wolf-man was protecting me from my murderous uncle.
My life had gotten very weird, very fast.
I lay down on the bed, not bothering to change clothes. The moment my head hit the pillow, exhaustion crashed over me.
But just before I fell asleep, I heard something from the other room.
Cassian's voice, low and urgent, talking to someone.
"Yes, I found her... No, she doesn't know yet... I'll tell her when the time is right... Because if she finds out the truth too soon, she'll never trust me."
My eyes snapped open.
What truth?
What was Cassian hiding from me?