Page 63 of The Sol Crown (Fractured Lights #1)

“What—no…” the soldier stammers, backing away slightly.

“No point arguing, boy. She’s never wrong.” Xavier waves a hand, bored. “Super strength is dull, Liora. Find another.”

The soldier sags in relief.

Her eyes begin scanning again.

I can’t breathe. My heart pounds as I watch my mother betray the very people who she once vowed to protect, who once vowed to protect her in return.

“Shifter.”

The word is barely out of her mouth before the soldier erupts into motion, body morphing in a flash. A giant eagle bursts into the air, wings slicing the sky, fleeing toward the treeline. Trying to escape.

It makes it halfway.

Then Oliver yanks it down mid-flight like it’s tethered to a rope, slamming the creature into a cage at Xavier’s feet.

“Ooh, goodie,” Xavier claps, eyes gleaming. “I love a bird shifter. So useful.”

I step forward, hand tightening around the hilt of my dagger.

Stone’s grip closes around my wrist, stopping me cold as he shakes his head once.

It takes everything in me not to move.

My mother’s eyes flicker again, searching, seeking out the Gifted. People who’ve lived in fear their whole lives, hiding what they are to avoid this exact moment. The moment they’d be discovered. The moment the enemy would come for them.

Her gaze lands on Brynn.

“Pyrokinetic.”

No.

Not Brynn.

Not bumbling, gentle Brynn. Not kind, but slightly useless, Brynn.

But then the memories hit me, one after the other.

The smell of burning when the peligro attacked him.

How he managed to light the stubborn hearth in the library.

All the times he lit the fires on the teamwork assessment, without any issue.

Gods.

He lifts his hands now, palms open in defence, but then fire bursts forth, bright and blinding, and he gasps in horror. The flames coil and twist around his arms and spring forward as if propelled away from him, the orange glow reflecting in his wide eyes, an eerie match to his hair.

The dry grass catches instantly, the flames licking up the brittle stalks, smoke rising fast.

Panic erupts. Screams. Chaos. The fire spreads like a wave, devouring everything in its path.

“Brynn!” I shout, choking on smoke. “Stop the flames!”

His terrified gaze snaps to me. “I can’t control it!” he cries, voice cracking with fear.

Someone near Brynn screams as their clothes catch fire, collapsing in agony, writhing in the white-hot flames .

“Oliver, if you please,” Xavier drawls, looking almost bored.

Brynn’s body lifts into the air, flames twisting over his skin and uniform until he becomes a living torch. And yet, it doesn’t harm him.

“No—please!” he yells, straining against the telekinetic hold. His sheer strength lets him twist and thrash in midair. Oliver’s eyes narrow in concentration, and sweat beads on his brow. Holding Brynn is visibly draining him, the effort etched into his young face.

All around us, fire roars. Trees go up like kindling, their burning leaves falling in great balls of flame that crash to the ground and spread the inferno further.

Soldiers break ranks, many retreating toward the base. I see Deacon run with Willa, using the fire as a distraction to protect her from being collected. The next-in-command officer shouts for us to fall back while Oliver remains occupied with containing Brynn.

Stone grabs my arm, trying to pull me with him, but I’m frozen, staring through the fire at my mother.

In the chaos, something inside her has shifted. Her mind… It’s back. She’s lucid. Clear.

And she sees me.

Our eyes lock, and hers widen in recognition. The devastation I see in her face, the sorrow in those deep-set eyes, guts me.

“Elina, we’ve got to go!” Stone’s voice is urgent, tugging harder.

Oliver finally yanks Brynn close enough, and a Dunmerian soldier knocks him out with the hilt of his dagger. The flames cloaking his body vanish instantly, but the blaze he started still rages around us.

I look back one last time.

“Go,” my mother mouths, her eyes brimming with love, even through the tears and sorrow.

And this time, I let Stone pull me away.

As soon as we’re back behind the reinforced walls of the outpost, Stone drags me into a supply closet, slamming the door shut behind us. He turns on me, but I can barely see him.

All I can see is the image of my mother through the flames.

She was within arm’s reach, and I did nothing.

Her broken gaze.

The devastation on her face when she saw Brynn being hauled away, when she realised what she’d just done.

And then… the devotion in her eyes when she looked at me. Always trying to keep me safe. Always protecting me.

Stone’s hands frame my face, his touch firm but careful as he bends down to catch my eyes.

“Elina,” he says, and I have no idea how many times he’s said my name before I finally hear it, before I realise I’ve been staring at nothing in this dark little closet.

My eyes flick to his, and he exhales in relief.

“That’s it, Red. Come back to me.” He gently brushes my hair back, wiping away tears I didn’t even know were falling. Leaning in, he presses a soft kiss to my forehead, whispering the words again against my skin. “Come back to me.”

I sag into him. All the tension I didn’t know I’d been holding drains from me in an instant. He catches me, arms strong around my back as I collapse against his chest.

I breathe him in, and smoke clings to his clothes, but underneath, I can still smell him .

I press my ear to his chest and let the steady rhythm of his heart soothe me as he rubs slow, calming circles into my back. His face is buried in my hair, holding me like he’s afraid I might slip away entirely.

I pull back slightly when I feel steadier. His hands stay on my shoulders, grounding me, as his eyes search mine.

“What was that?” he asks, indicating towards the door, his voice low and full of concern. “You completely froze out there. ”

“I know,” I whisper, my voice hoarse. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for,” he says quickly. “You just… You scared me. I thought for a second that you were going to dive through the flames.” He looks away, jaw clenched, like the image still haunts him.

“I was contemplating it.” The words are barely audible.

His face tightens in something close to agony.

“Elina…” He exhales hard, like the wind’s been knocked from his chest, then steps in again and grips the sides of my face gently but firmly, forcing me to meet his eyes.

“You can’t do that. It’s one thing to throw yourself into every battle, but you can’t throw yourself into fucking flames. ”

“You don’t understand, Stone.”

“No, you’re damned right, I don’t understand. There is no one— no one —worth you dying for.”

“She’s the queen,” I argue.

“Yes, I get that,” Stone says, his voice strained. “Every soldier out there wanted to save her. But there was no safe way to do it, Elina. You can’t make rash decisions like that.”

I shake my head, knocking his hands away, frustration mounting in my core. He steps back, exasperated, running his hands through his hair before throwing them up in disbelief.

“It would kill me if anything happened to you. Don’t you get that? You have to keep yourself safe.”

“No. You don’t understand.” I pace the cramped space, the weight of everything pressing down on me. “Gods, Stone—”

“Then help me, Elina!” he snaps, voice cracking. “Help me understand!”

I stop. Turn. My heart thuds against my ribs.

“She’s my mother.”