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My truck skids to a halt in what used to be the driveway. Half of the trees around the property are gone, the sky startlingly bare in their absence. There’s nothing but blackened stumps left, reaching toward the smoke-thick sky like accusatory fingers.

The house, somehow, stands untouched. Likely the result of Phina’s magic from the last time a fire was near.

Any wards she laid down, any protective spells she cast—they may still be holding strong.

I should thank her, or say something, but there’s no time, and I can’t seem to get the words from my throat.

This is entirely my fault.

After my dad died, it was like my entire world crumbled. When it seemed Declan might have had something to do with it, and none of my brothers would help me go against him, I’d written the town off.

But I never should have gone. Never should have abandoned my pack, my responsibility. My legacy.

As much as I try to leave Silverville behind, it’s a part of me.

“Go inside,” I tell them, watching as Nora rouses in alarm but not having the time or words to reassure her. “Phina, there are boards in the basement you can throw over the windows. Fill the bathtubs and—”

“ No , Xeran,” Phina says, shaking her head and turning to me, her eyes already sweeping over the line of trees in the distance where that ominous glow hovers, now more blue than orange. “I can help—”

I could feel her fear radiating out from her on the drive here. The last thing I want is for her to be in the midst of the fire. Besides, having her out there would only interfere with my ability to make good decisions. To keep the squad safe.

When I look at her, it’s with what I hope is a hardened, unyielding expression. Beneath it is panic—all of this is already wasting time I don’t have.

“Absolutely not.”

“Think about it. Think about last time, I mean. The house is still here. I can help you—”

“ No .” The word snaps out of me, loud enough that it makes Nora jump, and I feel sick, knowing how this must look to her. But I have to keep them safe, even if that means hurting Phina’s feelings. “We had an agreement, Phina. Magic stays in the house. Period. And that means now.”

“People are dying !” she shouts.

Nora is looking between us, her expression slowly morphing from sleepy confusion to understanding when her gaze skips out to the horizon, which grows brighter by the minute.

“I’m aware of that,” I grit out between my teeth.

“So, if I can do something to help them—”

“You can help by staying here and keeping them safe.”

“But my magic—”

“ Your magic is what caused this in the first place!” The words explode out of me, propelled by the panic, the haste, the itch to get to the firehouse and get the squad together. To coordinate our efforts and stop as much of this as we can.

Without using magic. Without putting Phina or Nora at risk.

Phina flinches back from me like I’ve struck her, devastation sparking in her eyes. Her silence is wounded, and seems to spread. Even the wind and the distant roar of flames seem to go quiet, as if the world is holding its breath, also hurt by what I’ve said.

Phina’s face goes white, and she puts her arms around Nora, pulling her closer, even as her gaze stays locked on me.

“What did you say?” Her voice is barely a whisper.

Fuck . Nothing is going how I want. And the glow on the horizon is only getting brighter. Maybe this is the only way to keep her safe—to keep her from following me.

“You heard me,” I say, my voice hard as I reach over her and push open the passenger side door. “Go inside. Don’t use your magic for anything but to keep the two of you safe.”

Without a word, she slides out of the truck, keeping Nora tucked tightly at her side. Nora says something softly, a question, but Phina either doesn’t hear her or isn’t going to answer.

A moment before they push through the front door, Nora glances back at me, worry and panic lacing through her features. She fell asleep happy in Denver and woke up to a wildfire at home, and I don’t know how to make it better for her.

My body is split—one half telling me to go to the fire, the other half demanding that I stay here and follow them inside. Get on my knees and beg for Phina’s forgiveness.

As if to make the decision for me, the radio crackles to life. Soren’s voice comes through, tight with urgency, “Xeran, you close? Where the hell are you? We need every man we can get down here.”

My hands shake as I throw the truck into reverse. The smart, strategic thing is to go to the fire. Save who I can, contain what I can. Come back to Phina later. To resolve things with her, I have to make sure she survives this.

I have to make sure we all do.

By the time I fly into the fire station lot, gravel spraying around me as I slam on the brakes, it looks like hell has already hit the building.

Windows are blown out, the garage doors are warped from heat.

Half the roof is missing. But the building is still standing, which is more than I can say for the rest of the town.

Even the tires on my truck started to feel tacky at the end of the drive, like they were melting and sticking to the road.

The guys are outside, clearly agitated and waiting for me, already suited up.

“Thank the gods,” Soren says, relief flooding his freckled face as I run up to the building. “We thought—”

I don’t let him finish, flying past them and hurtling inside even as Kalen protests, trying to follow me. The heat is unbearable inside, pressing in on all sides.

“Xeran—”

“I’ll be ready in one minute,” I say, pulling on my turnout pants. I know I’ll be ready because we time these drills, see how quickly we can go after getting a call. And my time is just over fifty seconds.

“It’s not that, it’s—”

“Tell me while we move,” I say, grabbing my helmet and walking out. Emerging out into the outside air, which is cooler—but not by much—I add, “And fill me in on the situation.”

“The Emerald Court neighborhood was hit hard,” Lachlan says, pointing up at some of the nicer developments on the other side of town. “Houses are completely gone out there. We emptied all the trailer courts out by First Avenue. Right now, it looks like the fire is working toward the high school—”

“There might be people trapped at the community center,” Felix says, the mirth gone from his usually joking face as he rejoins the circle, clipping his handheld radio to his vest. “The fire jumped the creek and cut off their escape route.”

Up here, Silverville Creek is thirty feet wide and running high from the spring melt. There’s no natural fire that could jump a barrier like that. But this is no natural fire.

“ Xeran ,” Kalen says, grabbing my arm. “Listen, man, I have something to tell you.”

“Is it about the community center?”

When Kalen shakes his head, I point to the truck and say, “Then tell me after that. We have to prioritize right now.”

“Maybe twenty in there, and some kids,” Felix says. “I can drive the one engine we have over there—”

“I’ll take my truck,” I cut him off. “It’s full of extinguisher.”

We break and head out, and Kalen says something I don’t catch before Felix tells him to come in the engine. I can tell he’s frustrated, but whatever he has to share can wait until later.

Soren, Lachlan, and I jump into my truck and follow the fire engine as it roars down the street. Through the haze, I can see the community center in the distance. Flames dance around it like a firing squad, surrounding the place. Smoke pours from the windows on the southern side.

We are running out of time. I take a corner too fast. In the back of my mind are thoughts of Phina, of Nora. Of the way I left things. Of how badly I want to make sure they’re okay.

But the moment we pour out of the vehicles and toward the community center, all that goes blank, and the only thing I can think about is getting these people out safely.