Chapter 12 Fighting Destiny
Rhett POV
Sleep was for the weak and the dead. I was neither.
Fire chased me from the dream again, gold and red, crawling under my skin like a fever. In it, she stood in the blaze, her wings of molten light cutting the darkness apart. Her eyes met mine, hazel, burning, and furious, and then she was gone, swallowed by flame.
I jolted awake with a snarl, my claws half shifted, and the damn sheets were torn. My chest heaved. The dream clung to me, hot and wrong.
Kaen’s voice rumbled from the back of my skull, "You saw her. The ember that does not die."
“I saw fire,” I muttered. “Not my problem.”
"You lie to yourself, Alpha."
“Watch your tone.”
"She belongs to us."
I barked a laugh, low and sharp. “I don’t need a female to complete me, Kaen. I’ve already got you whispering bullshit in my ear.”
"And yet your heart raced when you saw her."
“It raced because it was a nightmare.”
"Nightmares don’t smell like destiny, dumbass."
I froze mid step. “Did you just..”
"Say dumbass? Yes."
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Perfect. My inner wolf’s developed a sense of humor.”
"You’ve been avoiding what’s coming," Kaen said, his voice dropping low. "The prophecy has begun."
“Prophecies are for priests and drunks.” I stalked across the room, shoving open the balcony doors. The cold air hit like a blade, cutting through the heat still crawling under my skin. “I deal in things I can kill. I can’t stab a damn prophecy.”
Kaen only growled, deep and amused. "She’s real. The fire winged one. She carries your mark already."
That stopped me. My jaw tightened. “What?”
"You heard me."
I stared out at the misty forest, my pulse ticking hard in my throat. The moon hung fractured over the mountains, bleeding pale light over the Wildlands, the home we stole after the Rift destroyed ours.
Four centuries since the world ended, and I was still pretending to be a king instead of a refugee. Wolves didn’t belong here. The gods were gone, the moon was broken, and now my damn wolf was spouting prophecy like a zealot.
“She’s not ours,” I said finally. “If she’s real, she’s just another threat.”
"Then why do you smell her on the wind?"
I turned away from the view, ignoring the way my blood pulsed hotter with every breath. “Enough.”
Kaen rumbled laughter through my veins, low and knowing. Keep lying to yourself, Alpha. I’ll wait.
“Good. Stay quiet while I handle this my way.”
I grabbed a shirt and yanked it over my head, then slammed my fist on the door. “Garran!”
A moment later, my second appeared, bleary-eyed but alert. “My king?”
“Wake the citadel,” I ordered. “I want every mercenary and tracker worth the coin in my hall by sunrise.”
He hesitated. “What are we hunting, sire?”
I smirked. “A woman.”
Kaen’s snarl echoed in the back of my head. "She’s not prey."
“Shut up,” I muttered under my breath.
Garran’s brow furrowed. “What kind of woman?”
“Black and red hair,” I said. “Built like a brick shithouse, hazel fieryl eyes. She’ll have a bite mark on her neck that matches mine. Find her. Bring her to me alive and unharmed.”
“And if she resists?” Garran asked.
“She will.” I bared my teeth in something that wasn’t a smile. “That’s what makes it fun.”
Kaen growled again, all fangs and warning. "You don’t cage what’s meant to burn, Rhett."
“Watch me.”
The wolf went silent, but I could feel his disapproval simmering beneath my skin. He thought this was fate. I thought it was a problem I intended to solve before it ruined my kingdom.
As Garran disappeared to rouse the men, I leaned on the balcony rail, staring at the faint glow of dawn clawing its way over the peaks.
“Find her, huh?” I muttered to the wind. “Fine. But if she’s what you say she is, Kaen, she’ll come to me on her knees.”
"Or you’ll fall to yours," he murmured.
I ignored him, watching the horizon burn.
The howls started then, low and rolling, spreading across the Wildlands as the packs woke. The sound carried through the mountains, ancient and raw.
It didn’t sound like mourning this time.
It sounded like warning.
______________
Korr POV
Sleep usually came only when the fires dimmed in Pyraen Hold. Tonight, they never did.
The molten rivers outside my window pulsed like veins through the world, gold-red and restless. I’d been pacing since dusk, every heartbeat in this blasted place echoing against the obsidian walls. Her fire still burned beneath my skin, the human with the impossible blaze who’d nearly ended me on that battlefield.
Vaelith stirred inside my chest, a deep rumble that shook the air. "She carries our spark," he said, his voice forged from the belly of a volcano.
“She carries arrogance,” I answered. “And a death wish.”
"You feel it. Her flame sings to ours."
“She’s human,” I snapped. “And humans break. They don’t sing.”
"You saw her eyes before the fire took her down. Hazel with gold, our color. This bond is older than the empire. Stop fighting it."
I poured wine into a golden chalice and drank it like water. “You think every woman who burns me is prophecy.”
Vaelith’s laugh rolled like thunder through stone. "Only the one who burned you and survived."
That was when Serika appeared, unannounced as always, wrapped in molten silk that clung to her like heat to steel. Her body was perfection. She bowed just low enough to remind me she used to be worshipped for it.
“My king,” she purred. “You haven’t slept. Shall I help?”
Her hands slid up my chest, practiced and flawless. Once, I’d taken comfort there, her body was a distraction carved to perfection. I tried now. I really did.
Her lips brushed my neck. I gripped her waist, pulled her close, and felt… nothing.
No heat. No pulse. Only the second heartbeat, the one that didn’t belong to me, pounding like a drum of fire inside my ribs.
Vaelith’s voice was a snarl. "She’s not the one. Stop pretending."
I shoved Serika back, harder than I intended. She stumbled, her eyes flashing with fury. “Have I displeased you, my king?”
“You never pleased me,” I said flatly.
Her face hardened into polished rage. “You chase ghosts, Korr. You think some wild human will fill the void the gods left? She’ll burn just like the rest.”
“Maybe.” I turned away, my shoulders tight. “But her fire called mine by name.”
Serika hissed. “And if she’s real?”
“Then the world should pray she stays dead.”
Vaelith growled approval. "You’ll find her anyway."
I drained the chalice, tossed it into the forge-pit, and called for my commander. The doors swung open, heat bleeding from the corridor.
“Gather the trackers,” I ordered. “I want the woman who burned my legions found. Black and red hair. Eyes like fire. She’ll carry my claw-mark across her shoulder. Bring her to me alive and untouched.”
The commander bowed. “As you command, my king.”
When he was gone, I looked down at my hands. Fire rippled under the skin, and scales were ghosting across my knuckles.
Vaelith whispered like flame through glass. "You can’t fight destiny, Korr."
I smiled, sharp and humorless. “Watch me.”
The forges roared louder, as if the world itself dared me to try.