Fire Meets Stars

Part One

Sleeping embers.

Slumbering flames.

Dormant.

But dangerous.

Always made sure to be swept away or buried. The product of a great fire, that can birth an inferno if given the chance. Although, sometimes they steal the chance, not waiting for anything-doing as they please.

That's what she was.

She was the living embodiment of those embers, those ashes. Hot to the touch-but the remnants of greatness. Locked down, chained up. Forced onto a back that was barely strips of flesh, bloody and filthy.

Stored in an iron box, a box made and decorated for her. Made long before she was even a concept-an idea in anyone's head.

Now it was her head she was in.

How dark this place was-how full of nightmares. She was a nightmare-to many. To dirty politicians who knew their enemies would hire the best, to kingdoms that threatened to reign down. To a queen that had ruled for a very long time and still wanted to reign for a long time to come. At any point in her life, someone was terrified of her-whether they knew it or not.

Screams filled the dark corners of her mind. Screams of pain or pleasure-sometimes they melded together for a symphony. Blood leaked from the essence of her past, hers, other's, hard to tell which. That sweet and loving darkness crept in and bathed her in anguish, in it's own self.

She reviled in it.

Craved it.

Needed it.

Because darkness is an assassin's best friend. And . . . What better place for fire to burn bright?

She was dragged and pulled, pushed and shoved. Into a cell. Into a stone dungeon where she would be left until they felt she should be fetched for entertainment.

The darkness swept back in.

There's a voice, low and careful. It's right beside her, male. Not her male-but a male she knew. He set something beside her, shoved something in her mouth and made her drink it-the cold of the glass bottle shocking her into movement.

A beautiful numbing took over. Then the voice was gone.

Another male, cruel and harsh, taunted her. Whispering things about how pitiful she looked, about where her hawk was now. But what he didn't know what that his taunting fueled her.

Where was her hawk now? Not here. That's all she needed to know. The man never mentioned anyone else, so they had none of them.

Then a female. Rage induced and seething-yelled. Yelled about slivers of black stone. Where were they?

Nowhere near her.

Near any of them.

Now she needed to get away too. Not for long, because it was inevitable that she should die young. Though, how can she say that isn't fitting? She stole lives for a living for years, was so good at it too. Lives that could have gone on, ended sooner than meant to.

Why should hers not end the same?

Oh but when she went out . . . It would be with a bang.

An explosion worthy of Mala herself.

However, she couldn't do that from inside a stone cell.

So Aelin Ashryver Galathynius waited. Using trace amounts of energy to drag her fingers on the stone floor. Stone so it couldn't burn-oh but that hadn't stopped her from taking Rowan. Stone would never keep her from things she deemed hers.