gony.
My lungs are pure fire. My eyes burn. I burneverywhere—every single part of me.
As my gaze darts around the room, my focus latches onto a single pair of green eyes. Those eyes ground me through the haze of fire as the rest of my world burns away. The phrase Niethal whispered still rings in my mind.
Rise, Firebird.
With those words and what felt like a slight push from him, a tiny ember of magic ignited inside me and set my entire world on fire.
Before this, I thought I loved the heat. But the warmth I so willingly basked in has now turned into searing-hot pain. The fire rages in my core as if a long-sleeping volcano has erupted, and I don’t know how to contain it.
My knees shake as magic flares from inside me. I’m burning too hot, too fast, and I have no idea how to quell the inferno. My hands tremble as I raise them, finding them covered in bright flames: shades of orange and red, yellow and… green.
The green eyes call out to me, and I tether myself to them so I don’t burn away.
Mercifully, a coolness spreads over me. It starts in my mind and travels into my chest before spreading to my limbs. The last flames retreat into my hands and flicker out as if they never existed.
A cold sweat forms on my neck as every pair of eyes watches me, waiting for what may happen next. I should do something,saysomething, but I’m still tethered to those green eyes.
They belong to one of the most attractive fae males I have seen. His dark-brown hair is cut short and pushed back off his face, revealing a sharp jaw and straight nose. He’s dressed in a well-tailored black surcoat with a red sun embroidered on the chest, and black trousers, contrasting beautifully with his pale skin. And he is tall, as I have found most fae are. What’s most captivating isn’t how handsome he is but how the green of his eyes swirl with tiny flecks of black, giving them a depth I could fall into.
Everything about the male feels familiar, and he stares back as if he recognizes me too. I’m so lost in thought that I startle when Niethal caresses my cheek. He follows my gaze and grunts when he sees who I’m staring at.
Gently, he turns my face to focus solely on him. “My dear, do you see how exceptional you are? And this is only the beginning.”
I grab onto his arm and squeeze. “I am, what am…” I lick my lips and try again. “Am I fae?” I whisper, tremors shaking my voice.
He places a hand over mine and squeezes back. “Partly. You’re from one of the most powerful lines in our history. It would seem the magic ran true with you.” He grips my hand tightly before turning us toward the audience. “My fellow kings, allow me to reintroduce you to Lady Grace of House Anaeris. Let us toast to the future!” he proclaims, and the crowd applauds as if they just watched a thrilling performance.
That performance being the crumbling of the life I thought I knew.
Still holding my hand, he leads me off the dais to the main floor to meet the kings, though I hardly register who I’m speaking to or what they say. Everyone is sopleasedto meet me; they can’t wait to see what I can do. I’m barely holding it together when the green-eyed male approaches.
Niethal is off talking with another king from, well, I can’t remember where. But when this male stops in front of me, the world settles. We stare at each other for a long moment, and I’m unsure what to say. “Hello” would be a safe start, but my brain runs three steps behind.
He saves me the embarrassment and speaks first. “Your eyes have changed.”
My eyes?
I turn away from the male and search the room, hoping to find a mirror, when a glimmer of light beyond the crowd catches my attention. A wall of giant mirrors hangs behind a row of tall white pillars, and I jog toward them, tossing quick nods at those who say hello as I pass. I’m sure it’s rude not to stop and talk, but I need to see what he’s talking about.
A dull ringing in my ears muffles the laughter and music as I reach the mirrors and stare at myself. It’s true. My eyes have changed. My once blue and green eyes are now ringed and speckled with gold. I raise my hand to touch them but stop short. How is it possible so much has changed in a matter of minutes?
I don’t knowwhatI am anymore. I’m not fully human, but I’m also not fae. A hybrid?
Movement in the reflection catches my eye, and the green-eyed male stands behind me. His face softens when he sees my ashen expression. “The magic you have doesn’t change who you are, Grace. Your eyes don’t change what you are. Though I don’t know you, I know those things to be true. Ancestry and history don’t write your story. The way you choose to live does.”
I stare at his reflection, thinking over what he said, and hope it’s true. That deep down I’m still me. “What’s your name?” I ask his reflection numbly.
“Prince Isiah Thorne of Daminae. Though I’d rather you call me Isiah.”
“Isiah,” I say slowly, deciding I like the feel on my tongue. My head tips toward the ceiling, and I exhale before turning to face him. “I appreciate your kind words. This whole thing is… overwhelming.”
“Yes, I can imagine. Though it would have been easier had you not found out in front of an audience,” he says with unexpected anger, and I give a half-hearted shrug.
“King Grager must have wanted to show everyone what I can do. Though I don’t know why he had to, aside from proving my lineage and ability to catch fire. I’m just thankful my dress didn’t burn away and leave me naked up there.”
“Yes.” A mischievous grin curves his lips. “What a shame that would have been.”