THE FIRE BETWEEN US

The room was quiet.

Night pressed against the windows, moonlight slanting across the floor in long pale stripes. The house was still. Downstairs, the clocks ticked softly and nothing stirred. Not even the wind.

Daniel sat at the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, fingers interlaced tightly.

Velma stood by the window, arms wrapped around herself.

Neither had said anything for several minutes.

It wasn't the kind of silence that followed an argument. It was the silence after a storm — the stillness that comes when truths begin to press against the inside of a person's chest, demanding to be set free.

Velma turned. "Daniel."

He didn't move.

She stepped closer. "Talk to me. Please."

He looked up slowly. His eyes were tired. Haunted. But soft when they met hers.

"I didn't want to lie to you," he said.

"I know."

"I thought if I could hold it in, if I could keep being normal—maybe it would go away."

She moved to sit beside him. Their shoulders touched. He didn't pull away.

"It started the night after we got back," Daniel said, voice low. "I went outside to clear my head. I wasn't thinking. I just… felt like something was rising in me. Like heat. Pressure."

He paused, pressing his palms together.

"And then I looked into the glass… and my eyes were red. I didn't understand it. I wasn't angry. I wasn't anything. But it felt like… I wasn't alone in my own body anymore."

Velma's breath caught.

"I saw my reflection again, and for a second—" he stopped. "There were horns. Just the outline. Just for a moment."

She nodded slowly. "And the bench."

Daniel exhaled, almost ashamed. "I cracked it. Without trying. I wasn't even thinking about it. I just… touched it."

Velma stared at the floor for a moment. "I found it. The next morning. You told me everything looked normal."

"I know," he said. "I was afraid. I didn't want you to see me like that."

She looked at him.

And saw the weight in his eyes.

"I thought maybe it was just stress," he continued. "Work, wedding, expectations. But it kept happening. The heat. The voice. The name."

He swallowed. "Azrah'el."

Velma didn't flinch.

Instead, she reached for his hand. "There's something I need to tell you too."

Daniel blinked, confused.

Velma's voice softened. "Your parents… came to see me the morning after Lucian's first visit."

He straightened slightly.

"They told me the truth," she said. "About your mother. About how she wanted a child so badly she made a deal. With something… ancient. Something dark. A demon."

Daniel's lips parted, but no words came.

"They said the child she bore wasn't just a boy. That you weren't human. That you were… immortal. But that you don't remember who you really are."

He stared at her, unmoving.

"Mrs. Williams confirmed it too," Velma went on. "She's known since you were young. She said your blood isn't asleep anymore. That it's waking up."

Daniel slowly pulled his hand away.

Velma let him.

He stood, walking toward the window, both hands on the sill. The moonlight lit the sharp line of his jaw, the tenseness in his shoulders.

"Lucian knows too," Velma added gently. "He called you Azrah'el to your face. And you didn't deny it."

Daniel laughed under his breath. A dry, breathless sound. "Because it felt right."

He turned to her, eyes glimmering—not with tears, but with something hotter. Wilder.

"Do you understand what it means?" he asked. "If it's true? That I was never even human to begin with? That I'm… what? A creature? Some ancient thing in a stolen life?"

"No," Velma said softly, rising to her feet. "You're still you. You're Daniel. My husband."

He shook his head. "That's just a name."

"No," she repeated firmly. "It's a choice. Yours. That's what matters."

He opened his mouth—but then the room pulsed.

Just once.

And then again.

Velma felt the air change. The light flicker.

Daniel clutched his head suddenly, staggering back a step. "No—no, not now—"

His knees hit the floor as he fell forward on one hand, gasping. His other hand clawed at the floorboards. His breathing turned heavy. Harsh.

Velma rushed toward him. "Daniel!"

But when he looked up at her—

His eyes were glowing.

Crimson.

Hot and terrifying.

He gritted his teeth. "Stay back!"

His voice was guttural, layered, like two voices speaking through him.

The shadows in the corners of the room rippled.

The walls groaned.

Veins of red light pulsed faintly beneath his skin — on his neck, his arms, his temples.

He clenched his fists, trying to suppress whatever force was rising through him.

But he was losing.

Velma didn't stop.

She dropped to her knees in front of him.

"Daniel," she whispered.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trembling. "I can't—control—it—"

"Yes, you can," she said, tears rising. "Because you're still here. You're still you. Listen to me. I'm not afraid of you."

He looked up, shaking.

And she moved into him, wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and pulled him close.

"Look at me," she said softly. "Feel me. I'm real. I'm yours. You are not alone."

He clutched her tightly, fingers digging into her back as if anchoring himself. His breathing was ragged. The light flickered again. Then again.

And then—

Stillness.

His eyes dimmed.

The red glow faded.

The veins of light receded beneath his skin.

Daniel collapsed into her arms, his chest rising and falling with deep, shuddering breaths.

Velma held him there.

For minutes.

Until the silence returned.

Until he was just… Daniel again.

---

Later, they lay in bed together, his head on her chest, her fingers stroking his hair.

He hadn't spoken since.

She didn't ask anything more.

He didn't need to speak for her to know what that moment had cost him — to face the thing inside and still come back.

Still be hers.

"You calmed me," he said finally, voice low.

"You let me," she whispered.

A long pause.

"I think it's getting stronger," he admitted. "The thing inside me. It wants out."

She nodded. "Then we'll hold it back. Together."

He looked up at her.

"You're not afraid?"

Velma smiled softly, her hand resting on his chest. "I was afraid before I met you. But you made me brave."

Daniel closed his eyes.

And for the first time in days—

He slept.