THE FLAME AWAKENS

The mist lay heavy in the valley that morning, like breath held too long. Every tree stood motionless. Every bird silent. Even the wind had forgotten how to move. I had walked these woods a thousand times before, but that morning, the silence screamed louder than any beast.

Peace was once the heart of this land. The kind of peace that grows deep roots—thick and enduring. But peace had withered long ago, eaten alive by the war that carved these woods into graves.

Now, every step I took felt like walking across a battlefield where the dead still whispered. The scent of Thorne's burned remains lingered in the air, sharp and bitter like charred bones soaked in iron. I had ended him only days ago. His death should've given us room to breathe.

But monsters don't sleep for long. And Veyran—the vampire king—had not yet come forward.

He was waiting. Watching.

And I could feel it.

I found Aria where she always retreated—by the lake nestled between the cliff and the old willow. Her hair was loose, trailing over her shoulders like black silk. She was dipping her fingers in the water, tracing quiet patterns as if trying to unlock the secrets of the world in the ripples.

She didn't flinch when I stepped up behind her.

"They came again," she said softly.

Her voice always had a kind of sadness in it lately. Like it remembered something her mind didn't.

"The red-eyed one?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

She nodded. "Only this time, he spoke."

My spine stiffened.

"What did he say?"

She hesitated. Her reflection trembled in the water.

"He called me the Flame. Said I belonged to him. Said… I was born for him."

My heart pounded once, hard enough to echo in my ears.

Veyran.

He knew.

Somehow, he had sensed the truth.

I crouched beside her.

"He's lying," I said. "You're not his. You never will be."

Her eyes met mine.

"I'm not normal, am I?" she whispered.

"No," I said. "You're not."

I should've told her earlier. But I didn't know how.

Aria wasn't just any human girl. Not anymore. The night I saved her from that vampire attack, I did more than bind her wounds. I gave her part of me. Marked her with my blood.

I thought it would keep her safe.

But magic doesn't always follow intent.

Something ancient had stirred inside her that night.

And now the Flame—once a whisper in prophecy—was alive again.

Later, I took her to the place where it all began. A ring of crumbled stones deep within the eastern woods. Older than the pack. Older than the war.

"This was Seraphine's sanctuary," I told her.

She stepped slowly between the moss-covered stones, brushing her fingers along their surface.

"Who was she?"

"The first Flame," I said. "She was a warrior. A healer. Half-wolf, half… something greater. She carried fire in her blood. Light in her soul."

Aria turned to me.

"You think I'm like her?"

"I think you're her descendant," I said. "And that Veyran believes you're his key to power."

Her expression hardened.

"Then I'll make sure he never gets it."

The next day, she trained harder than I'd ever seen. She sparred with Talia, learned from Jarek, ran laps through the highlands until her legs gave out. I watched from the cliffs, every instinct in me torn between pride and fear.

She was still human in many ways—frail, inexperienced—but inside her burned a force I didn't understand. And with each passing day, that force grew.

At dusk, my scouts returned with news I had dreaded.

"They're moving," Jarek said. "More than we've ever seen. Fifty vampires, maybe more. Headed for the southern pass."

I glanced at the sky.

"They'll be here by sunrise."

"What do we do?" Talia asked.

I looked over the map. The southern pass was narrow, a perfect choke point.

"We fight," I said. "We draw them into the pass. Let them think they've trapped us. Then we close the jaws."

"What about Aria?"

"She stays behind," I said without thinking.

But when I turned, Aria was already there.

"I'm coming," she said.

"No."

"Yes," she insisted. "I can help. You saw what happened with Thorne. Something inside me is changing. Let me fight."

I could've commanded her to stay. I was Alpha. My word was law.

But something in her eyes reminded me of Seraphine—the old tales, the sacred fire.

I nodded slowly.

"You stay behind the front lines," I said. "You watch. You learn. You don't engage unless you have to."

"Deal," she said. But I could already see she had no intention of standing by.

We reached the pass just before dawn.

The fog was thick, rolling through the trees like fingers searching for prey. We took position on the ridges, hidden by stone and shadow. Every warrior was tense, poised like a drawn arrow.

I felt them before I saw them.

The vampires came in silence—gliding across the trail, armor gleaming, blades drawn. Eyes burning with that cursed hunger.

At their front was a tall male with golden hair and a cloak of black feathers. Not Veyran. A general. One of his elite.

I waited until the last of them was inside the narrowest bend.

Then I dropped my hand.

And we struck.

The forest erupted into chaos.

Wolves dropped from the cliffs, teeth bared. My claws ripped through the first soldier before he could scream. Blood sprayed the trees.

Talia danced through the enemy, spinning and slashing. Jarek brought down two with a single pounce.

I fought my way to the general, our battle erupting in the heart of the pass. His sword was silver-plated—designed to kill my kind. But he was too slow. I had fought too many like him.

He lunged. I twisted, caught his wrist, broke it.

He screamed.

"This is for every life you took," I growled, and drove my claws through his throat.

But the battle wasn't over.

A scream echoed from above.

My heart seized.

Aria.

She was on the ridge. Alone. And in front of her…

Something terrible.

Not a vampire. Not a man.

A shadow, tall as a tree, made of smoke and bone, with red eyes that burned like dying suns.

Veyran's magic.

He had sent part of himself. A warning. A weapon.

"Aria!" I roared, sprinting.

But she didn't run.

She stood her ground.

The shadow reached for her.

And then her hands caught fire.

Silver fire.

It wasn't heat. It wasn't light. It was something holy.

She flung her arms forward and the fire exploded outward. The creature shrieked, recoiling as if the very light of her soul was peeling it apart.

The fire didn't stop until the thing had vanished entirely.

And then the ridge fell silent.

We won that day.

The vampires broke formation and fled, retreating into the dark, dragging their wounded with them.

The pass was littered with bodies, but the battle was ours.

Aria stood in the middle of the ridge, shaking, her skin glowing with an inner heat.

I climbed to her, pulled her into my arms.

"What did I do?" she whispered.

I looked out over the scorched stones where the creature had stood.

"You awakened," I said.

That night, we returned to the stronghold.

The pack feasted.

For the first time in moons, there was laughter around the fire. Music played from old wooden flutes. Children ran through the dirt without fear.

But in the back of my mind, something lingered.

Veyran hadn't sent his army to win.

He had sent them to test her.

To see what she could do.

And now he had his answer.

In my chambers, I stood at the window, watching the stars blink awake.

Aria entered quietly. She stood beside me, her face unreadable.

"You saved us," I said.

"No," she replied. "You did."

We were silent for a long moment.

Then she turned to me.

"Am I still just a girl to you?"

I faced her.

"No," I said honestly. "You're something far more dangerous."

And I meant it.

She was not just a girl.

She was the Flame.

The spark of the old world reborn.

And Veyran had every reason to fear her.

Because she was not just mine to protect.

She was mine to fight beside.

And the war was far from over.