Chapter 4

They led me through the woods at dawn.

I walked between Elric and Elara, silent, my pulse beating like a drum. My thoughts were heavy with what I'd read in that hidden book: Mira of the Lost Line. The girl who could either save or destroy.

Was that truly me?

"Where are we going?" I finally asked.

Elric didn't respond, but Elara said softly, "Somewhere ancient. Where your blood will speak the truth."

"Truth about what?"

She glanced at me. "Whether you're the light… or the curse."

The path turned narrow, roots rising from the ground like claws. Crows flapped overhead. The deeper we went, the more the air seemed to thicken—heavy with power. My skin prickled with each step.

At last, we stopped before a ring of blackened trees. Charred, dead, but strangely pulsing with something old.

"The Burnt Circle," Elric said. "It was scorched by the first fire-wielder centuries ago. Only the chosen can survive its trial."

I swallowed hard.

Elara looked at me. "If you pass, we'll protect you. If not…"

She didn't finish.

Elric handed me a stone pendant, its center glowing faintly. "This will guide the fire. Or repel it, if you're false."

He met my eyes then. For the first time, I saw something besides suspicion there. A flicker of doubt… and something else. A heat I didn't understand.

"You don't have to do this," he said.

I held his gaze. "Yes, I do."

He stepped back. "Then enter the circle."

The moment I crossed the invisible boundary, the air snapped.

Flames burst from the black trees, curling around me—but not burning me.

Instead, they whispered.

Blood of flame… bearer of the storm…

The pendant pulsed hot against my chest. The whispers grew louder.

I staggered as fire licked my skin—but it didn't hurt. It moved with me, around me, through me.

A memory came.

My mother—eyes wide with fear—saying, "Never let them see the mark, Mira. Never show them the fire."

But now… there was no hiding.

I let the fire come.

It surged from my palms, bright and white, roaring like a beast set free. My hair whipped around my face. The trees glowed. The pendant exploded in lightAnd then darkness.

When I opened my eyes, I was on the ground, outside the circle.

Elara was kneeling beside me, smiling. "You passed."

Elric stood back, arms crossed, but he looked rattled.

I sat up slowly. "What did you see?"

Elara answered first. "A power we haven't seen in generations."

I turned to Elric. "And you?"

He didn't answer right away. He walked closer, crouched in front of me, eyes searching mine.

"I saw someone who doesn't know what she is yet," he said quietly. "And that's what makes you dangerous."

I felt the weight of his gaze, the heat between us tightening like a string pulled taut.

"I didn't ask for any of this," I murmured.

"I know."

He reached out, almost touched my arm—then pulled his hand back. His jaw clenched.

"But the question is, Mira… what will you do with it now?"

That evening, the three of us sat around the fire outside Elara's cottage.

Elara spoke of the ancient war. Of packs lost to madness. Of a prophecy that split the Elders.

"Half believed the Moonborn would bring salvation," she said. "The other half feared she'd finish what the cursed Alpha started."

I stared at the flames.

"And where do you stand?"

Elara's voice was calm. "I believe in choice. Not fate."

Elric stood suddenly. "We're wasting time. If others find out she's here, she'll be hunted."

His voice was sharp, but I heard something else beneath it.

Fear.

For me?

He walked away, into the woods.

I hesitated, then rose and followed.

I found him near the stream, staring into the water.

"Why do you hate me?" I asked quietly.

He turned slowly. "I don't."

"Then why treat me like I'm some curse?"

He exhaled. "Because I've seen what power does. My mother was a seer. She lost her mind trying to hold visions she couldn't control."

I stepped closer. "I'm not her."

"No," he said. "You're worse. You don't even know your limits."

"I didn't ask to be this."

He looked away. "You think that matters to the wolves who'll come for you?"

Silence hung between us.

I took another step. "Why do you care, then?"

His eyes met mine—fiery, conflicted.

"I don't," he said, but his voice broke slightly.

I lifted a hand to his chest. "You do."

He didn't stop me.

His breath caught.

We stood close, the tension between us burning hotter than any fire in the trial. His hand hovered at my waist, unsure.

Then— A howl shattered the air.

It was Elara.

We ran back into the cottage.

When we reached the cottage, Elara stood outside, panting.

"They found us," she gasped. "Scouts. From the Bloodfang pack. They're heading here now."

My heart dropped. "How did they—?"

"The pendant," Elric muttered. "It flared like a beacon."

"We have to move," Elara said.

Elric's eyes darkened. "Too late."

From the trees, shadows emerged. They were Tall, Armored and Deadly.

Wolves in human form. Warriors of Bloodfang.

Their leader stepped forward. "The girl. Give her to us."

Elric's arm came around me, protective.

"No," he said coldly. "She's under our guard."

"You have no authority here."

Elara stepped beside us. "You'll have to go through us."

The warrior smiled.

"We were hoping you'd say that."