The Edge of Control

Rosaline's POV

The Vault didn't sleep.

Even when I did.

Its magic hummed through the stone like a living creature, echoing down corridors and whispering in the walls. I lay in one of the sanctuary chambers, half-wrapped in furs, unable to stop listening. The fire in the pedestal chamber hadn't dimmed since the second seal awakened.

It wasn't only burning it was waiting.

For what, I wasn't sure.

I found Adam already awake, pacing the edge of the reflecting pool with a book in hand. His brow was furrowed, lips pressed tight.

"What are you reading?" I asked, approaching.

He didn't look up. "Chronicles of the Order. Cross-referencing seal patterns from the last celestial cycle."

I knelt beside him, my voice still thick with sleep. "You think the second seal is tied to something specific?"

He nodded slowly. "The first was intimacy. A bond sealed in soul and body. The second… might be fear."

I sat back. "Fear?"

"The flame turned blue. That's the color tied to forewarning in ancient sigilcraft. And you saw the mirror."

I swallowed. That version of me bleeding in a field of flame, Adam screaming my name into the sky haunted me even now.

"So if that was fear," I asked, "what awakens the third?"

He finally looked at me.

"Pain."

We left the Vault before dawn.

The ruins of Devana had grown colder overnight. The wind screamed through broken arches. The soil crackled underfoot. Above us, the clouds were moving faster, spiraling inward like a storm with no center.

Adam guided us toward the western wing of the old palace ruins a place I hadn't been since childhood. It was where my mother had once trained with the royal guard. A place of blades and silence.

"I want to see what your fire can do," he said.

I raised a brow. "You're not afraid of getting burned?"

He smirked faintly. "I heal fast."

We found what was left of the old sparring ring stone pillars, cracked tiles, and rusted weapons scattered like old bones. I stood in the center, shrugging off my coat. The seal on my shoulder pulsed in time with my breath.

Adam drew a training sword and tossed me another. "Channel the pendant. Focus on your center."

I gripped the hilt and closed my eyes.

Fire stirred.

It rose behind my ribs, warm at first, then sharp. It moved down my arms like golden water gentle but dangerous. I opened my eyes and saw my hands glowing.

We clashed.

Sparks flew.

His blade met mine with calculated force. I moved fast, instincts guiding me more than memory. The fire responded to movement flaring when I struck, fading when I defended. The pendant glowed with each breath I took.

But I wasn't in control.

Not really.

And Adam knew it.

"Slow down," he warned. "You're burning too hot."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're rising."

His blade knocked mine aside. I spun, planted, summoned a ring of flame around us.

He stepped back.

"Rosaline."

I couldn't hear him.

The fire was too loud now. It surged in my blood, flashing behind my eyes. Every wound Devana had suffered rose with it every buried scream, every betrayal. It wasn't just my fire.

It was their fire.

The ancestors.

The kingdom

The flame of every Devani royal who had burned before me.

And it wanted out.

The flames surged beyond my reach.

They exploded from my hands, curling into the air like serpents, slamming into the cracked pillars and walls of the old training ring. Stone shattered. Ash spiraled. The pendant around my neck flared violently, its red core pulsing like it was trying to contain the outburst.

I heard Adam's voice but it sounded distant, underwater.

"Rosaline, breathe—"

I couldn't. My chest ached. The fire was everywhere in my throat, my bones, my soul.

I dropped to one knee, bracing myself on the blackened stone as the fire crackled around me in a perfect circle. My hands shook, glowing with raw power, the seal on my shoulder now lit like a brand.

I was burning.

Not just around me.

Inside.

"Rosaline," Adam's voice broke through again, closer this time, low and grounding. "You need to listen to me. It's not the magic controlling you it's your fear of it."

I looked up.

He stood just beyond the ring of fire, arms out, expression calm but taut. The wind caught his coat, whipping it behind him like wings. His eyes, no longer shadowed, were soft.

"I'm not afraid," I gasped, every breath a struggle.

"Yes," he said quietly, stepping into the flames. "You are."

The fire hissed but didn't burn him.

It wrapped around him like it recognized something in him that I couldn't name.

He walked toward me, every step deliberate, until he was kneeling in front of me, his hands reaching for mine.

"I'm right here. I chose this. You. Us."

I clenched my fists. The fire screamed.

"I can't stop it—"

"You don't have to," he said. "You guide it. And if it ever gets too much—" he cupped my cheek, gently tilting my head to his, "—I'll burn with you."

Something inside me broke.

Not in pain.

In release.

The fire collapsed inward, spiraling back into my chest like a tide receding. My hands cooled. My breath returned. The seal dimmed, retreating beneath my skin.

And suddenly, it was quiet again.

I fell into him, breathless and shaking.

He held me, tight.

"You're not a weapon, Rose," he murmured. "You're a catalyst."

We stayed there a long time, surrounded by scorched stone and curling smoke. I sat curled against him, my head resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart.

"Did you know this would happen?" I asked eventually.

He shook his head. "Not like this."

I turned to look up at him. "Then why bring me here?"

"Because you need to know what you're capable of. And because the next time the Order comes…" he hesitated, "they won't be testing your control. They'll be trying to break it."

I shivered.

Not from fear.

From knowing he was right.

That night, we camped near the western edge of the ruins, beneath the remnants of an old observatory. The stars shimmered through broken glass, casting fractured constellations on the stone below.

I lay beside him on a bed of cloaks and velvet spellwraps. His arm draped loosely over my waist, his fingers idly tracing patterns along the curve of my hip.

"You calmed me," I whispered.

"I didn't," he said. "You did."

"But you brought me back."

He kissed my temple. "We'll always bring each other back."

The seal flared faintly at my shoulder—as if agreeing.

I closed my eyes.

But before sleep could take me, I felt it.

A tremor in the earth.

Not large.

Just enough.

I sat up.

"Adam…"

He was already awake, hand reaching for the blade beside him.

In the distance, just beyond the perimeter of the ruins, a silver glow shimmered against the stone.

And from within it… a figure stepped forward.

Cloaked.

Radiant.

Watching us.

The Order had found us.