Chapter 11 Fire & Blood
Rhea POV
Solen didn’t speak as the crowd parted. He just nodded once to Maris and the others. “Back to your stations, every single one of you. Now.”
No one argued. They filed out in silence, all their eyes flicking to me like I was a ghost walking. Maybe I was.
Solen turned, his coat whispering against his legs. “With me, Ghost.”
He didn’t look back to see if I followed. He didn’t have to.
I trailed him through the tunnels, and the air was thick with whispers of heat. The torches flickered when I passed. My three heartbeats kept tripping over each other, mine was quick, the was second deep, and the third was flat out feral. I kept one hand pressed against my ribs like I could hold them all still.
We stopped at the door to the war room. Solen keyed in his code. The door hissed open to reveal the heart of Haven-Nine, maps layered over maps, relic weapons stacked against the walls, and the faint smell of burnt coffee. It looked like it always did, but tonight everything felt wrong.
He locked the door behind us and faced me.
“Sit.”
I did, mostly because my legs didn’t trust me. The old chair groaned under my weight. Solen didn’t sit, he paced once, twice, then stopped across from me. His scarred face was unreadable.
“You died,” he said finally.
“Apparently not well enough.”
He didn’t smile. “You stopped breathing. No pulse. No warmth. You were gone. Gone gone.”
“I got better,” I said softly, but the humor fell flat.
Solen leaned on the edge of the table, watching me like a puzzle he couldn’t solve. “And now?”
“Now I’m breathing again. I’ve got… extra heartbeats. New scars. A possible sponsorship deal with death itself.”
“Don’t deflect.”
I flinched at the steel in his voice. He wasn’t angry, just controlled. He always was. The kind of calm that could stop a riot or start one.
“I don’t know what’s happening, Solen,” I whispered. “I swear I don’t.”
Something in his face softened. He straightened and crossed the room, and his boots were silent on the stone. When he stopped beside me, I realized my hands were shaking.
He knelt, Solen, the commander, the man who never bowed for anyone, and took my hands in his scarred ones. They were warm and steady.
“You don’t have to know,” he said quietly. “You just have to breathe.”
That was all it took. The thin veneer of composure cracked. My throat closed, and I started shaking harder. All the heat, the fear, and the confusion, it hit all at once. I tried to swallow it down, but it broke out anyway.
“I was dead,” I choked. “I felt it. There was nothing and then… I heard voices. They said I belonged to them, Solen. All of them.”
He didn’t ask who they were. He just held on tighter.
“Easy,” he murmured. “You’re safe. You’re here.”
I wanted to believe that. I wanted to stop shaking. But my heart, or hearts, wouldn’t settle. They pounded against my ribs like they were trying to claw their way out.
“Something’s wrong inside me,” I whispered. “I can feel it moving. Like I’m not alone in here.”
Solen’s jaw tightened, but his voice stayed calm. “Then we’ll find out what it is. Together.”
I leaned forward, resting my forehead against his shoulder. He didn’t hesitate. His arms came around me, solid and steady. The first real anchor I’d had since being....reborn?
For a minute, I just breathed him in. Soap, smoke, and iron. The smell of safety. I’d spent most of my life being shaped into a weapon, not a person. Solen was the only one who ever made me forget that.
“I don’t want to be afraid of myself,” I whispered.
He pulled back enough to look me in the eye. “Then don’t be. Fear makes monsters out of things that were only broken.”
The words cracked something open in me. I started crying again, ugly and quiet. He let me. Didn’t try to fix it, didn’t flinch. Just stood there, the man who’d built me into a soldier, holding me like I was still worth saving.
When I finally caught my breath, he said softly, “May I ask something difficult?”
I nodded. My voice was gone anyway.
“We need to know what changed. Sera can test for magic residue, infection, anything we’ve seen before, but she’ll need blood. Yours.”
I blinked at him slowly. “You think I’m contagious?”
“I think you’re alive when you shouldn’t be.”
Fair.
“Okay,” I said. “Take what you need.”
He hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“Solen, I woke up after being declared legally deceased. What’s a few vials between friends?”
That earned the ghost of a smile. He crossed to the cabinet, pulled out a sterile kit, and set it on the table. I rolled up my sleeve, exposing the veins glowing faintly under the skin.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” I said.
He didn’t answer. The needle slid in smooth and precise. My blood filled the tube, it was deep red at first, then darker and iridescent, like light caught in oil.
Solen’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not normal.”
“Neither am I.”
He sealed the vial, labeling it with steady hands. “We’ll run tests immediately. Quietly. No one else knows until we understand what this means.”
“Because panic looks bad on the résumé?”
“Because if you are something the enemy made, they’ll come for you.”
I froze. The room seemed to tilt. “You think they did this?”
“I think it’s possible.”
The idea made my stomach turn. The wolves. The dragons. The vampires. All of them ruled by fear and power. If one of them had found a way to twist human blood into this…
I clenched my fists. “Then we find out who. And we kill them.”
Solen capped the final vial and placed a hand on my shoulder, the same one marked by the dragon’s scar. The touch was careful, and almost reverent.
“Ghost,” he said, his voice softer now. “You don’t have to carry this alone.”
“I know,” I said. “But I probably will.”
He gave a quiet, humorless laugh. “Still my soldier.”
“Always.”
He gathered the vials into a secure case. For a moment, he just stood there, looking at me like he wanted to memorize this version before it changed again.
“When I found you, you were a kid with blood on your hands and fire in your eyes,” he said. “You died and somehow you still look ready to fight.”
“Guess death’s losing interest.”
“Or maybe,” he said, “it knows better than to challenge you.”
I managed a weak grin. “Don’t go sentimental on me, Commander.”
“Too late.”
He opened the door. The corridor light spilled in, soft and gold. “Rest. I’ll send for Sera when we’re ready.”
“Solen?”
He paused.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “For not being afraid of me.”
He turned, his eyes catching the light. “I’ve known fear, Ghost. You’re not it.”
Then he was gone, leaving me alone in the war room with the sound of three heartbeats drumming in my chest and the faint, impossible warmth of hope trying to crawl its way back into my ribs.