Controlled Burn

Chapter 5: Too Many Good Men

Lucian sat alone in the dim light of his office, his fingers lightly resting on the edge of the desk as he stared out at the city below. Novum City sprawled beneath him, its glowing lights a maze of streets, buildings, and shadows, pulsing with life even at this hour. But despite the constant hum of activity below, the room around him felt empty, the silence pressing in like a cold fog. The only sound was the faint ticking of the wall clock—a rhythm that seemed to echo the thoughts swirling in Lucian's mind.

His hand tightened around the cold edge of his desk, and he exhaled slowly, his breath visible in the frosted air. He hadn't been able to shake the feeling since the incident under the overpass. Since Cade.

Pulling Cade back from the brink had been a calculated risk, one that Lucian wasn't sure would pay off. In his line of work, fire demons rarely made it back once they'd reached that point—once the flames inside them had become more than just power and instinct, but a reflection of their brokenness. Too many times, he'd seen them burn out.

But this time had been different.

Lucian leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking softly under his weight. His mind drifted, unbidden, back to the past. Back to the faces he had tried to forget.

Good men.

He could still see them, clear as day. Demons who had once been strong, proud, in control of their fire. They had fought, lived, and loved. And then something had broken them—an emotional fracture too deep to heal, something that cut them apart from the inside. Lucian had seen it play out more times than he cared to count. A rejection, a betrayal, the loss of a bond... for fire demons, it didn't take much. Once that wound festered, once the fire inside them fed on that pain, it consumed them. They lost themselves, their flames spiraling out of control until they were nothing but forces of destruction.

Lucian had been there to watch them burn themselves to ash.

Marcus.

The name struck him like a blow, and Lucian's hand clenched reflexively around the armrest of his chair, ice spreading across the fabric as memories rushed back—memories he had tried to bury beneath years of cold detachment.

Marcus had been one of them. A fire demon Lucian had been tasked with handling years ago. Lucian could still remember the look in Marcus's eyes when he had first met him—determined, confident, always in control. Marcus had been a rising star in the demon community, a warrior who never let his flames define him. But that control, that discipline, had been shattered the day he lost his mate.

The rejection had broken him.

Lucian closed his eyes, his jaw tightening as he remembered the moment he had arrived too late. The fire had already consumed Marcus by the time Lucian found him. The flames had roared uncontrollably, wild and destructive, fueled by the agony Marcus had tried to suppress. Lucian had barely been able to extinguish the inferno. When it was over, all that had remained of Marcus was a smoldering pile of ash. A good man, gone, lost to the flames that once made him strong.

Lucian had failed to save him.

He hadn't known it at the time, but that moment—watching Marcus burn out—had left a scar on Lucian. He'd sworn to himself that he wouldn't let it happen again. That he would stop other fire demons from meeting the same fate. But it wasn't always possible. Some were too far gone. Some flames burned too hot, too bright, to be contained.

Cade had reminded him of that. The way he'd stood there, flames flickering wildly, his body trembling under the weight of his own fire. He had seen the same brokenness in Cade's eyes that he had seen in Marcus's—the same desperate struggle for control, the same pain.

And that's why Lucian had stepped in.

He hadn't planned to help Cade at first. He hadn't wanted to get involved beyond the call of duty. But something about the young fire demon had pulled at Lucian's instincts, made him hesitate before delivering the final blow. There had been something worth saving in Cade, something that hadn't been completely consumed by the fire yet. Lucian had sensed it, felt the raw potential that Cade still carried with him, despite everything.

The rejection that had nearly broken Cade was fresh, the wound still raw. But Lucian had seen beyond that. He had seen the strength Cade didn't realize he had—the fight still left in him. Lucian knew that Cade could regain control of his fire, but not without help. Not without someone guiding him through the flames, keeping him from tipping into ferality.

That was why Lucian had made the choice. Why, for the first time in years, he had taken a fire demon under his wing rather than putting them down. It wasn't about duty—it was about redemption. Cade still had a chance, and Lucian wasn't going to let him burn out the way Marcus had.

Lucian opened his eyes, the sharp glint of resolve returning to them. He couldn't change the past. He couldn't save the ones who were already gone. But Cade wasn't gone yet.

His communicator buzzed on the desk, pulling him from his thoughts. Lucian reached for it, sliding it open to see the familiar DEA insignia flash across the screen. It was a message from Marshal Delaney, a follow-up from the incident with Cade.

"Update on Cade. His condition has stabilized, but we're keeping him under watch. Are you sure about this, Lucian? Taking him on is risky. He's not like the others. He's volatile."

Lucian's fingers tightened around the communicator as he read the words, but his resolve didn't waver. He typed a brief response, his fingers moving with the same precision he applied to everything.

"I'm sure."

Lucian placed the communicator back on the desk and stood, the cold air around him thickening as he moved. He grabbed his coat and headed toward the door, his mind already focused on the task ahead.

He wasn't just doing this for Cade.

He was doing this for all the demons he hadn't been able to save. For Marcus. For the others who had burned themselves to nothing but ash.

Lucian had seen too many good men lost to their flames.

And this time, he wasn't going to let that happen.