In a divided kingdom where magic is feared and those who wield it are hunted, Ariana, the daughter of a powerful councilman, lives a life of privilege and duty. But her world unravels when she encounters Kiran, a fugitive with the power to command...
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The fire was everywhere. It roared, consuming the village in a merciless blaze. The screams of my people echoed in my ears, their cries for help swallowed by the inferno. I tried to run, to reach them, but my legs wouldn’t move.
“Kiran,” a voice whispered—familiar and haunting. I turned, and there she was. My mother stood in the flames, her face pale, her eyes hollow.
“You let us die,” she said, her voice brittle and cracking like the embers around her.
“No!” I tried to scream, but the word caught in my throat. “I didn’t—”
The flames surged higher, engulfing her, and then the world fell away into darkness.
I jolted awake, gasping for air. Sweat clung to my skin, and my heart raced so violently it felt like it would burst out of my chest. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. My hands clawed at the blanket tangled around me, and the shadows in the dim room seemed to press in, too close, too suffocating.
“Kiran?”
The voice was soft but sharp enough to pierce through the haze.
I turned my head, still disoriented, and saw Ariana sitting up beside me. The faint moonlight streaming through the window caught the edges of her hair, turning it into a halo of silver. Her face was etched with concern, her brow furrowed as she reached for me.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice quiet but firm.
“Nothing,” I lied, my throat dry and raw. “Go back to sleep.”
Ariana didn’t move. Her eyes, steady and piercing, locked onto mine.
“Kiran,” she said again, softer this time. “You were screaming.”
I winced, looking away. I hadn’t meant to wake her. I hadn’t meant for any of this to spill over.
“It was just a nightmare,” I muttered, brushing the hair from my damp forehead. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” she countered, her voice gaining an edge of stubbornness. “Talk to me.”
I shook my head, pulling the blanket tighter around me. “It doesn’t matter.”
Ari huffed, and I could feel her frustration, but instead of pressing further, she did something unexpected. She slid closer, her warmth brushing against me, and gently took my hand in hers.
“Kiran,” she said, her tone softer now, almost pleading. “Please.”
The sincerity in her voice undid me. I wanted to resist, to push her away, but something in the way she looked at me—patient, unyielding, yet so damn kind—broke through my defenses.
“It was the fire,” I admitted finally, my voice barely audible.
