Braeden spoke the words in a clear, deep tone that carried. As he spoke, his eyes shone with the gleam of flames once more. For a moment, Alyx thought she was staring straight into the sun. She saw a heat so immense it melted stone. She saw flames arch and dance, devouring and leaving destruction in their wake.
And beneath it all, she saw the conscience of a man she didn't even know. A man it was impossible to trust.
Still, at that moment, she felt his immeasurable power and control. All that stood between the world and destruction was Braeden—and he held back the flames with utter confidence, turning scalding fire into comforting warmth.
Driven by an urge she couldn't understand or control, Alyx reached out.
She couldn't say why she did it; she just knew that she needed to touch. She needed to understand, to feel for herself that what he'd claimed was true.
That he was fire—but that he wouldn't hurt.
As soon as her palm rested on the bare skin of his wrist, she felt it like an electric shock. Heat rushed through her, so much that she felt dizzy.
But instead of letting go, she clenched her fingers around his wrist—and there, she saw, flames were dancing now.
Flames were dancing on his skin, rising everywhere they touched. And they didn't hurt. They enveloped her own hand, and Alyx felt nothing more than comforting heat.
Intrigued, she let go of his wrist at last, curiously moving her fingers. The flames moved with her, not hurting, not burning, like ribbons of orange-red silk trailing from her fingers.
“Well, well,” Zena murmured.
At the reminder that they weren't alone, Alyx flinched. A heartbeat later, the flames were gone.
Her hand looked as it always had. There was no redness, no burns.
Had it all been an illusion? But she remembered feeling the fire—it just hadn't burned her.
Braeden looked a little wary as he met Zena's gaze, and the firebird in turn looked strangely unsettled.
Alyx hadn't ever seen her lose her composure before. But now, Zena looked back and forth between them, frowning, as if she'd just come to a conclusion that confused her.
“Are you—” Zena began.
“No time for this now,” Braeden said hastily.
He didn't meet Alyx's eyes. What had Zena been about to say? He looked almost—embarrassed?
“Will you help us?” he asked. “Steele isn't who you think he is. You know that. We need to get out of here.”
Zena frowned again, and then she nodded with sudden understanding. “You came here to fight Steele—but now you need to rescue Alyx first.”
“Yes,” Braeden said softly. “As quickly as possible. It's too dangerous for her here. I know I can take on Steele. But I can't protect her at the same time.”
“What about your friends?” Zena asked.
Braeden tensed. “What friends? What do you know about me?”
“A little. Steele is alarmed, it seems. Some conflict with the council of elements?” Zena hesitated for a moment when Braeden remained silent. “If you tell me more, I can help you. If you've got the council on your side, we could all escape together. Are air, water, and earth nearby?”
Something had changed all of a sudden. Alyx still didn't know what the hell was going on or how she knew these things, but something in Braeden had gone tight and sharp, like a blade being cautiously unsheathed.
This is insane. Unlike them, I'm just human. I can't read minds. As nice as that would be...
Maybe it was just that he was so powerful. Alyx could still feel his power radiating off him. Or maybe the fire dragon potions had fucked her up way more than just giving her endless nightmares.
“You don't have to tell me, of course,” Zena said quietly. “I understand. You have no reason to trust me. I only want to help—there's not much time left...”
And then, like a cloud of darkness that suddenly crept into the room, Alyx felt the lights dim slightly. The air felt just a little bit colder, as if she'd stepped into the shade.