Seraphina's POV
The silver-eyed man moved like lightning.
One second, the thug's fist was flying toward my face. The next, the man was between us, his hand catching the punch mid-air with a sound like a whip crack.
"I said," the stranger repeated, his voice cold as winter ice, "touch her and lose the hand."
He twisted the thug's wrist. The man screamed and dropped to his knees.
"What the—who are you?" The second thug fumbled for a knife.
Too slow.
The silver-eyed man moved so fast I could barely track him—one fluid motion that sent the knife clattering away and the second thug crashing into a wall. The third attacker tried to run, but the stranger grabbed him by the collar and tossed him back like he weighed nothing.
All three thugs scrambled away, cursing and limping.
I stood frozen against the hospital wall, my heart pounding so hard it hurt. This man—whoever he was—had just saved me. But those eyes...
"You," I whispered. "You were there. The night of the fire. I saw your eyes in the smoke."
He turned to face me fully, and up close, he was almost frightening. Not just his silver eyes, but the way he held himself—powerful, dangerous, like a predator pretending to be human. He looked maybe mid-twenties, with dark hair and pale skin, dressed in clothes that probably cost more than my entire village.
"Did you?" he asked calmly, like we were discussing the weather. "How interesting. Most people don't remember much from that night."
"Answer me!" My voice cracked. "Were you there? Did you see what happened? Did you see my parents?"
Something flickered in those strange eyes. Sadness? Regret? It vanished too quickly to tell.
"We shouldn't talk here," he said, glancing around. "You're drawing attention."
He was right. People were staring from windows and doorways, whispering behind their hands. I heard the words "Ashborne girl" and "cursed" floating on the wind.
"I don't even know you," I said, backing away. "Why should I trust you?"
"You shouldn't." His lips curved into a slight smile that didn't reach his eyes. "But you're alone, homeless, and everyone in this town wants you dead or gone. So tell me, Seraphina Ashborne—what other choice do you have?"
He knew my name. Of course he did. Everyone knew my name now. The girl who survived when everyone else burned.
My stomach growled loudly, answering for me. I hadn't eaten since yesterday's hospital breakfast.
The stranger's expression softened. "Come. Let's get you some food. Then we'll talk about what you saw that night."
Every instinct screamed this was a bad idea. But hunger and desperation won.
"Fine," I muttered. "But I'm not going anywhere private with you."
"Fair enough." He gestured down the street. "There's a tavern two blocks away. Public, crowded, safe. Will that do?"
I nodded, and we started walking. People scattered out of our path—not because of me, but because of him. They recognized him, I realized. And they were scared.
"Who are you?" I asked as we walked.
"Lucian Gravemire," he said. "Lord Gravemire, technically, though I don't use the title much."
A lord? That explained the expensive clothes and the way people avoided him. But not why he'd been at Ember Hollow. Not why he'd saved me.
The tavern was warm and smelled like fresh bread and roasted meat. My mouth watered. Lucian led me to a corner table and ordered enough food to feed five people.
When the server left, he leaned forward, studying me with those unsettling silver eyes.
"You saw me that night," he said quietly. "What else do you remember?"
I picked at the tablecloth, trying to force my scattered memories into order. "Flames. Screaming. My parents told me to hide. There were men in uniforms—Inquisitors—breaking into our house. My father was using magic to fight them off. Then everything went black, and when I woke up..." I swallowed hard. "The whole village was gone."
"And in that blackness," Lucian pressed, "right before you lost consciousness. What did you see?"
The memory slammed into me like a fist.
Silver eyes watching from the smoke. Not threatening. Just... watching. And something else. Someone else. A woman's voice, cold and commanding: "Take the girl alive. Kill the others."
I gasped, gripping the table. "There was a woman. She ordered the attack. She said to kill my parents but take me alive." I looked up at Lucian desperately. "Who was she? Why would anyone want to kill my family?"
Before he could answer, the food arrived. The server set down plates piled high with bread, meat, and vegetables. I didn't wait for permission—I grabbed a roll and shoved it in my mouth, barely tasting it through my hunger.
Lucian watched me eat with an expression I couldn't read. When I'd taken the edge off my starvation, he finally spoke.
"Your family was murdered, Seraphina. The fire wasn't an accident. It was an execution disguised as a disaster."
The bread turned to ash in my mouth. "What?"
"Someone powerful wanted your parents dead and your village erased. They used the Inquisition to do their dirty work, then blamed it on 'wild magic' so no one would ask questions." His silver eyes hardened. "And they very nearly succeeded."
Rage bubbled up inside me, hot and fierce. "You knew. You were there, and you just watched them die? Why didn't you help?"
"I tried," he said, and for the first time, real emotion cracked through his cold mask. "I was investigating rumors of illegal Inquisition activity in the area. When I saw the flames, I rode as fast as I could. But by the time I arrived, your parents were already dead. The whole village was burning. I found you in a cellar, unconscious and surrounded by silver flames."
"Silver flames?" I whispered.
"Your magic." He said it so casually, like everyone had magic. "You were protecting yourself. The flames kept the Inquisitors from reaching you, but they were also burning out of control. I managed to get you out before you killed yourself with your own power."
My hands started tingling again, that same strange warmth I'd felt in the hospital. "I don't have magic. I can't—"
"Yes, you can." Lucian reached across the table and took my hand.
The moment our skin touched, silver sparks danced between our fingers—his magic and mine, recognizing each other.
I yanked my hand back, terrified and fascinated at the same time.
"What am I?" I breathed.
"A Flamebringer," Lucian said quietly. "One of the rarest magical bloodlines in existence. A bloodline that was supposed to be extinct." He leaned closer, his voice dropping to barely a whisper. "That's why they killed your family, Seraphina. That's why they wanted you captured. Because if people knew you existed, everything the Empire has built on lies would come crashing down."
My head spun. Magic. Bloodlines. Conspiracy. It was too much, too fast.
"I don't understand any of this," I choked out. "I just want my parents back. I want my life back."
"I know." Something almost gentle crossed his face. "But that's not possible. You have two choices now: run and hide for the rest of your life, waiting for them to find you again. Or fight back. Learn to control your power. Find the truth about what happened. Make them pay for what they took from you."
Revenge. The word tasted like blood and fire.
"How?" I asked. "I'm nobody. I have nothing."
"You have me." Lucian stood and offered his hand. "I have resources, information, and a score to settle with the same people who destroyed your life. Help me take them down, and I'll give you everything you need—training, protection, answers, and revenge."
I stared at his outstretched hand, my mind racing. This man was dangerous—I knew that bone-deep. But he was also the only person who'd told me the truth. The only person offering hope instead of hatred.
"Why would you help me?" I asked suspiciously. "What do you get out of this?"
His smile turned sharp. "Let's just say we have a common enemy. And you, little phoenix, are the key to burning their empire to ash."
I looked into those silver eyes—the same eyes that had watched Ember Hollow burn, the same eyes that had saved me from the flames.
Slowly, I reached out and took his hand.
His fingers closed around mine, warm despite his cold demeanor. The silver sparks danced again, our magic intertwining.
"Welcome to Gravemire Estate," he said. "Your new life begins now."
As we stood to leave, a commotion erupted at the tavern entrance.
Commander Aldric strode in, flanked by a dozen Inquisitors in full armor.
His cold eyes locked onto me across the crowded room.
"Seraphina Ashborne!" he bellowed. "You're under arrest for the murder of forty-three citizens of Ember Hollow and conspiracy to practice illegal magic!"
The entire tavern went silent.
Lucian's hand tightened on mine. "Trust me," he whispered urgently. "Whatever happens next, don't let go."
Before I could ask what he meant, Aldric pointed directly at us.
"Seize them both!"
The Inquisitors charged forward, drawing their weapons.
And my hands suddenly burst into silver-white flames.