Page 39 of Chasing the Flame (The Sacred Flames Of Ruin #1)

A sharp pain stings the back of my skull, my eyelids heavy as I struggle to wake up.

My head is fucking throbbing, and I’m freezing half to death.

There’s a dripping noise coming from my left, and an earthy yet musty smell lingering in the air.

I try to sit up, but quickly realize I can’t move.

I’m shackled to a stone slab, my body covered in a sheer gossamer gown.

I turn my head side to side, trying to get a glimpse of where I am. My eyes widen at the sight of the massive and dark cave-like room, my heart slamming into my ribs. “ No ,” I whisper, tears falling down my cheeks in streaks.

I fought so goddamn hard to get away. I was fucking safe! A sob breaks free, and I can’t stop the dam from bursting. My sobs permeate the room, coating the walls with the echo of my pain.

There’s got to be a way to get out of here, but my mind won’t stop spinning. I’m stuck on the fear of what’s to come. I was only just discovering who I really am, and now? I feel like my life is dangerously close to being cut short.

Thrashing against the chains, I scream. The bloodcurdling sound echoes off the walls, reverberating through my skull. I’m so damn anxious, and I’ve got to find a way to calm down. Then, as if things weren’t shitty enough already, I remember I haven’t spoken to my mother in days.

Fuck! My mother! Oh, god, mom is going to be so fucking worried. I whisper a prayer to whatever god or goddess is listening, begging them to not let me die here.

My mind is racing, panic consuming every thought. “Ugh!” I scream, letting out my rage and hurt. “Get it together Averie, you’re fucking smarter than this.”

My wrists burn from the strain, the cold metal biting into my skin. I scream again, louder this time. It’s the kind of scream that shreds your throat and soul, fracturing it into a million pieces.

Something cracks—not in the stone, not in the chains, but in me .

A jolt of heat pulses beneath my skin, wild and untamed. My vision blurs. It’s like fire is blooming behind my eyes, and the air around me warps, humming with static.

The chains tremble.

A flicker of light—no, not light, something older, something primal—rips from my chest in a blinding surge. The gossamer fabric on my skin flares like it’s caught in a wind that doesn’t exist.

Then—BOOM.

A burst of power explodes from my body, a shockwave that knocks dust from the ceiling and sends cracks spider-webbing across the stone.

The chains snap open. The slab beneath me splits with a sharp crack, and I fall hard onto the cold floor, gasping.

I don’t know how the hell I did it. My body feels like it’s humming, electric even, but my magic’s already fading—like a match struck too fast. I can’t get a good breath, my lungs screaming from the trauma of the blast.

Get up. Move .

I scramble to my feet, barefoot and disoriented. I don’t know which way leads out, but I stagger toward the darkness, arms scraped, heart pounding.

Footsteps echo behind me.

Shit .

I take off sprinting, clinging to the right edge of the wall with my outstretched hand. In seconds it’s almost pitch black. I can barely see, my head is still atrocious, and I’m fucking dizzy. I can’t catch my breath, but there’s zero chance in hell I’m stopping.

I’m getting the fuck out of here.

So, I keep running, occasionally trying to spark my magic back to life. It’s no use. It won’t come no matter how hard I try.

A sob wrenches from my chest. I shove it down, lock it away, and keep sprinting. My limbs are aching, but I can’t let him get me.

The cavern wall is splitting, and I’m running out of time to make a decision. I choose the right, keeping my hand running along the wall.

I’m pretty sure my fingers are bleeding, and it’s a fucking shit show trying to keep myself steady. Then, so low I almost missed it… a voice.

“ Averie !”

It sounds like Jettson. Hope flares brightly in my chest, weaving its way through my body.

It renews my strength, and I keep pushing, determined to find him.

I don’t dare call out, because I can hear footsteps behind me, the thudding of their shoes.

I can practically feel their breath down my neck.

My heart drops to my ass. They’re right on my tail.

The voice is louder this time, more concerned and definitely Jettson.

My bare feet slap against the rocky ground, and I’m struggling to stay steady. I’ve slowed to a jog, and I can’t seem to move any faster .

I’m overheating, I can feel it with every step I take. But there is nothing on this goddamn green earth that is going to keep me from him.

This man has walked through fire for me, I can manage a few more steps. “Averie! Where are you?!”

He’s so close. I can feel it in my bones. The footsteps behind me get louder, and I take off running as fast as I can.

I’m burning up, literally from the inside out but I’m so close I can taste freedom.

In a split second that all changes.

I collide with a strong wall of muscle, and as my fingers graze their chest I instantly recoil. But…

It’s too late.

Rough hands grab me, and there’s a sharp sting in my neck. My eyelids drop instantaneously, my limbs equally heavy. And there, as a whisper…

“You can’t escape me.”

Jettson

Carson Plantation is lit up from the moonlight, the fog swirling in front of the house adding a haunting touch. My nerves are shot, and I’m ready to get this fucking over with .

“Where are they?” Dahlia whispers, nudging me for the thousandth time with her shoulder.

I huff in irritation. My fingers brush against the tags at my neck, and I rub the cool metal in an attempt to ground myself. It doesn't work immediately, but it does offer some relief.

Turning to my father, I whisper shout, “You said this was a founding home, is there a hidden basement?”

My Dad swipes a hand down his face, and gives me a disapproving stare.

When he speaks, he doesn’t bother whispering.

“With all the racket you two are making, they’ll have heard us from miles away!

And no, it’s not a basement. It’s worse.

” He sighs, glancing toward the house once more.

“Come on, we have a bit of a hike and we should hurry. We need to head past the old building at the back of the house. The tree line there should lead us to the place.”

I don’t hesitate, following him at breakneck speed. Dahlia keeps in time with our pace, and for once is silent. Her hazel eyes glow in the moonlight, and the lethal look on her face mirrors my own.

We pass through the thicket of trees, and make our way to a small clearing. There are two paths to take, and the beast inside me is screaming that we need to go right. I take the lead, a silent order to follow.

I’m acting on instinct, rushing toward Averie, praying I’m not too late.

I see it in the next bend, a small cave entrance that would be easily overlooked. It’s not a particularly large mountain, more of a gigantic hill, and the entrance can’t be anymore than six feet tall, and four feet wide.

A growl builds in my chest, an ache centering there that nearly takes my breath. I go to move, to begin the treacherous journey to find her, but before I can my Dad grabs my arm. “Wait. It’s spelled. Give me a second.”

He works quickly, moving his hand in whirls and dips, spelling out intricate patterns in the air.

It looks like he’s guiding an orchestra, and I guess in a way he kind of is.

There’s a delicate process to curse breaking, but…

he’s a damn good warlock. In under a minute he breaks it, moving toward the entrance to test his work.

Dahlia huffs impatiently, and for once, I don’t disagree. He waves an arm in front of the cavern, then steps through, waving signals for us to move forward.

We take off, and I follow my beast instincts, trusting him to lead me to her.

We take a winding set of tunnels, moving quickly but silently, pausing occasionally to listen for signs of a presence. It’s eerily quiet—too fucking quiet. Like the calm before a storm that knows it’s already won.

A flicker of movement catches my eye. I throw an arm out, halting Dahlia and my father. A shadow peels from the wall—no, two. Cloaked figures in obsidian that seem to whisper like shadows. Fucking warlocks.

They move with precision, their steps silent, but my beast hears them. Feels them.

I lunge forward without a word, claws tearing from my fingers mid-swing as I slam into the nearest one.

He’s fast, but I’m faster. Rage sharpens my every move.

He grunts, blocking my strike with a shimmering ward, but it cracks under the weight of my fury.

I drive him back, tearing into flesh before spinning on the second.

He’s already chanting.

“Fuck,” I snarl, throwing a bolt of raw power—rootbind—to cut him off. Roots tumble from the ground, snapping around his ankles and lock him into place. Dahlia moves in behind me, a wicked grin on her lips, and finishes what I started with a flick of her wrist and a blade that sings when it cuts.

Silence falls again. Heavy. Drenched in magic and blood.

We press deeper into the tunnels, my pulse thundering. My body aches with the need to run, to roar, to rip apart whatever cage she’s been locked in. My instincts are burning now, dragging me forward with animal desperation. We round one final bend, and then—

I feel her.

Averie.

A jolt crashes through my spine, something primal, furious and hers. My knees buckle under the weight of it.

I don’t need light. I don’t need a map. I know exactly where she is.

My beast roars inside me, and I charge forward, hand grazing the jagged wall when I see it.

An obsidian door, half-lit by flickering torchlight, carved with runes that hum against my bones.

I reach for it—and everything else goes quiet.

Averie

Pain blooms at the side of my neck .

It’s sharp and slow, like something toxic sinking into my bloodstream. My skin is cold. My mouth tastes like metal. I try to move, but my limbs feel sluggish—like I’ve been drugged.

No, not drugged—injected.

Memories skitter just out of reach. Luke’s voice. A silver needle. My scream, cut short by the feeling of falling.

My lashes flutter open to darkness lit by flame.

I’m back where I started. The ceiling curves high above me, black rock slick with condensation. Shadows ripple along the walls, thrown by torches and hooded figures standing in a wide circle around a makeshift altar.

Around me. Caging me in.

Panic floods in, thick and fast.

My wrists are bound with coarse, rune-etched rope. I tug against them, but they hold. My legs are bound too, and I almost snarl. There’s no warmth to the cracked slab beneath me—only the bite of stone and old blood.

I’m at the center of a ritual.

And the chanting has already started…

“Exsurge, Ashbraith. Exsurge per flamma et umbra. Exsurge per sanguinem electae.”

The words are Latin. I don’t know the exact translation—but I feel them. Like something deep inside me recognizes what they’re trying to wake.

I twist my head to the side—and that’s when I see him.

Luke, that fucker !

His obsidian robes are immaculate. His smile practiced. But his eyes—those eyes are pure fucking madness.

“I was wondering when you’d wake,” he says, like we’re catching up over dinner .

“Where… am I?” My voice is sandpaper. My throat aches and I’m desperate for a drink of water.

“Somewhere safe,” he replies. “For me, at least.”

He steps closer, and I shrink back before I can stop myself. “You always were difficult,” he muses. “But in the end, you came back to me. They always do.”

“I didn’t come back,” I whisper. “You took me.”

“Semantics.”

He gestures to the figures around us. “Do you know what an Ashbraith is, Averie?”

I don’t respond. I can barely breathe.

“A creature older than flame. Born of realms between realms. Capable of unmaking the veils that separate this world from the ones I deserve .” He leans down, his voice like silk wrapped around poison. “And your blood will open the gate.”

My heart pounds so hard I feel it in my teeth. They were wrong, he doesn’t want me to birth the fucking creature. No, he wants my blood to bring down the veils that will let them in.

“You’re insane .”

“I’m enlightened,” he murmurs. “And you? You’re a key I never knew I needed—until I felt the power simmer beneath your skin.”

My heart stutters, and my eyes widen. He smiles wider, relishing in my surprise. “Ah. So you have discovered your lineage. The Ignivara blood. Delicious, isn’t it? Oh, the power you can wield.”

The chanting rises again. “Exsurge… Exsurge…”

Something cracks in the air above me. The torches flicker. The cave trembles. And then—something inside me shifts.

It’s not a feeling .

It's a remembering.

A flare of heat bursts through my chest. It spreads like wildfire—along my ribs, my arms, the back of my spine. The ropes strain, and steam begins to rise from them.

Luke doesn’t notice—but I do. I close my eyes.

Feel it.

Feed it.

The next time I inhale, the air tastes like smoke and ash vibrating with true power.

When I open my eyes, my skin is glowing at the seams. I sit up, flames spilling from my hand like liquid gold.

The ropes fall away, charred to ash.

“You want to wake something?” I whisper, standing tall as fire coils around my body. “ Fine . I’ll show you what happens when you light a match in a fucking storm.”

The cavern chamber shakes, rock tumbling with every step I take toward him. The flames engulf me, and I let them, falling into their embrace like I’m coming home. I give him a savage smile, and lift my palms in the air, letting the magic within me erupt like a volcano.

And the world burns .