The sun bled into the horizon, casting Thornhollow in streaks of molten orange and rose as we stepped onto the football field. The bleachers pulsed with energy-students laughing, townspeople cheering, the steady beat of music thrumming through the speakers like a second heartbeat. Friday night lights were in full blaze, and everything shimmered under their electric glow.
This was supposed to be normal.
This was supposed to be the distraction I needed.
Our cheer squad was lined up near the entrance to the field, pompoms in hand, faces painted in school colors and false confidence. We were polished and gleaming under the lights, our uniforms snapping in the wind like we were ready for battle. We'd practiced the routine all week. The formations were muscle memory by now. Smiles, waves, flips, shine. Easy.
But my smile was a lie tonight.
Because I wasn't just Scarlet Everen, cheer captain, golden girl of Silverthorne.
I was also the girl who had woken from a vision so visceral it left her throat raw. A girl haunted by fire and blood and the ghost of a childhood that had never stopped chasing her.
"A formation change, Scar?" our flyer asked, bouncing lightly on her heels.
"Yeah," I said tightly, hardly hearing her over the pounding in my skull. "Same as yesterday."
She nodded and moved into place.
I exhaled and forced my limbs to obey.
The music pounded. The routine started.
We hit our cues. Cartwheels, twists, shoulder stands-our bodies moved like clockwork. My feet barely touched the ground before I was moving again, a blur of practiced motions. My cheer voice rose in rhythm with the beat, sharp and clear, but it felt like someone else's voice was using my throat.
Then came the lift.
I was hoisted high above the field, heels balanced in the strong grip of the bases below. Legs locked. Arms poised. The wind curled around me like smoke, tugging at strands of my hair as I rose above the crowd.
The cheers. The lights. The roar.
It should've felt electric.
Instead-it felt like a premonition.
The scent of ash hit me like a freight train, thick and cloying. It flooded my senses, replacing the sharp tang of grass and sweat with something darker-older. My eyes blurred, and for a split second, the field below me wasn't a football game.
It was a graveyard.
And then I felt it-him.
Alec's presence was undeniable. It tore through the air like a blade, sharp and scorching. His energy surged across the field and crashed into mine like a tidal wave. It was heat and memory and something more-something ancient-slamming into my chest.
I gasped, the breath yanked from my lungs.
The battlefield.
The screams.
Ana's limp body in my arms.
Rain. Blood. My father's last howl.
It all rushed back.
And my balance slipped.
Gasps erupted from the bleachers like a ripple of horror through the crowd. The world twisted sideways.
Then-I was falling.
The rush of air tore at me. My limbs flailed, unable to find purchase. The stadium lights spun above me like stars in fast motion. I couldn't hear the crowd anymore. All I could hear was the wind. My own heartbeat. The distant echo of war drums from another life.
Then-a sudden jolt.
Strong arms caught me.
The scent of cedar and musk filled my lungs as my body crashed into Brett's. He grunted as he absorbed my momentum, stumbling back a step but never letting go. His chest was solid beneath mine, and for a heartbeat, I clung to him like the storm was still swallowing me whole.
"Scarlet!"
His voice was muffled, far away. The adrenaline thundered through my veins like a war drum.
"Scarlet, talk to me."
I blinked, dazed, as the stadium began to steady around me. The crowd had gone silent-too silent. I could feel all their eyes.
Brett's arms stayed locked around my waist, anchoring me. "You okay?" he asked, quieter now, his face close to mine. His voice was steady, but there was something else there-fear.
And something else, too. Something deeper. Like he knew this wasn't just a fall.
I nodded slowly. "Yeah. I just... I saw something."
Ana's voice called from behind us, sharp with panic. "Scar!"
I pulled away just as Ana skidded up to us, her eyes scanning me from head to toe.
"What the hell was that?" she demanded.
"I don't know," I muttered, still clutching my chest. "A memory. Maybe."
"From before?"
I nodded.
Ana looked past me. "You felt him."
I didn't have to ask who she meant.
Alec.
I turned slowly toward the bleachers-and found him.
Standing just beyond the edge of the field, arms folded, jaw tense, eyes locked on me.
Watching. Always watching.
There was no expression on his face. No sign of emotion. Just that stillness. That quiet storm in his eyes.
I turned away before the heat in my face could betray me.
The rest of the cheer squad rushed over, clapping my back, murmuring relief. Someone handed me a water bottle. Someone else asked if I was dizzy. I answered on autopilot.
But their voices didn't matter.
Because something had shifted.
Something old.
And deep.
⸻---
After the final cheer and the sky exploded in glittering bursts of red and gold, I slipped away.
The crowd dispersed, the field emptied, but I ducked behind the bleachers, drawn to the quiet. The cold night air wrapped around me like a second skin. I leaned against the metal frame, letting it cool the heat still smoldering in my blood.
My palms still trembled.
I stared at my reflection in the steel beam beside me. My eyes-bright blue-blinked back.
But I could feel it.
The pulse beneath the surface.
The truth inside me, clawing to get out.
Not blue. Not really.
Violet.
I exhaled, pressing my forehead against the chilled beam.
The world was spinning again. Not physically-but something in me was untethered. I didn't know how to root myself anymore. Everything felt too loud. Too sharp.
And then-I felt him.
I didn't have to turn.
"I'm fine," I said before he could speak.
"I saw what happened," Alec's voice came from the shadows, low and controlled. "You lost control."
"No," I muttered. "I slipped."
He scoffed. "You slipped because your head wasn't here. That could've ended very differently."
I turned to face him, the cold steel at my back. "Why do you care?"
"You're not just strong," he said, stepping closer. "You're volatile. You're more than even you understand. And if anyone else saw what I saw..."
"I handled it," I cut in. "Like I always do."
"You think you're invincible," he growled. "But what happens when the next fall doesn't end with you getting up?"
My fists clenched at my sides. "Why are you even here?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, his eyes dropped to my hands-still trembling slightly-and his posture softened, just barely.
"You're angry," he said, voice quieter now. "But it's not at me."
I looked away, jaw tight.
"I know what it feels like," he added. "To be at war with yourself. To burn from the inside and pretend you're fine."
He stepped even closer. Close enough that the space between us throbbed.
When his fingers brushed my cheek, I flinched-not out of fear, but from how real it felt. Electric. Anchored in something too old to name.
He pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingertips grazed my temple, lingered.
His hand trembled.
And then-I saw it in his eyes.
Recognition.
Something clicked.
Something ancient and buried surged between us.
He didn't say it.
But he knew.
"I thought it was a dream," Alec whispered, voice breaking with memory. "But it was you."
Tears spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them.
Alec reached up, wiped them away with his thumb. He held my gaze for one breath.
Two.
Then he stepped back.
The shield went up.
He turned away and walked into the dark without another word.
Leaving me shaking in silence.
But not alone.
Not really.
Because something between us had cracked wide open. And there would be no closing it again.
If I let go... if I let Alec in... if I surrendered to the storm inside me...
There would be no going back.
And maybe that was the most terrifying truth of all.
-------
The game had ended, the lights dimmed, but my pulse was still thundering like the crowd.
Inside the locker room, the chill of the tile floor seeped through my socks as I peeled off my cheer shoes, my hands still unsteady. I sat on the bench, the metallic scent of sweat and hairspray lingering in the air, but it wasn't the game clinging to me-it was that moment in the sky. The ash. The memory.
Ana slipped in quietly and sat beside me without a word.
"You didn't have to follow me," I murmured, voice hoarse.
"Yes, I did." Her tone was soft but sure. "You scared the hell out of me."
I swallowed hard, looking down at my palms. "I didn't mean to fall. I just... I couldn't breathe. Something took over."
"I know," she said, nudging her knee against mine. "I felt it too. That kind of power doesn't just vanish, Scar. You've been holding too much in."
I exhaled shakily. "It's getting harder to hide. I'm trying. But I think I'm losing control."
Ana placed a hand gently on my back. "Then don't do it alone."
Before I could respond, the door creaked open.
Brett stepped in, still in his jersey, eyes scanning the room until they landed on me. "Hey."
Ana stood slowly. "I'll give you two a minute," she said, squeezing my shoulder before slipping out.
I met Brett's gaze as he approached. He looked like he'd just walked out of a battlefield-mud on his cleats, hair tousled, eyes tired.
"You okay?" he asked.
I gave a small nod. "Yeah. I think so."
He hesitated, then sat on the bench across from me. "You scared the hell out of me, Scar. One second you were up there, flying like usual... and then you just-"
"I know," I interrupted softly. "Thank you. For catching me."
His expression shifted-something warm and guarded flickering behind his usual charm. "Always."
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he stood, offering a hand to help me up. I took it, steadying myself.
"You've got everyone watching you now," he said, voice low. "Just be careful, okay?"
I nodded again, unable to say more.
He gave me a final look-something unreadable-then turned and disappeared down the hall.
I stayed in the locker room a moment longer, letting the quiet settle around me like armor.
Because whatever had happened tonight... it wasn't over.
It was only the beginning.