Page 41 of The Spark that Ignites (Shattered Soul #1)

In the distance, shouts and roaring laughter rang out from the trees.

Briar rolled her eyes. “Cal and Ves are playing Fireball.” Emmery raised a brow, a question in her eyes.

“It’s this stupid game we used to play as kids.

” Briar stood and brushed off her trousers.

“Want to come play? It’s ridiculous but also ridiculously fun. ”

Emmery hesitated. Perhaps it would be a good chance to lay down some groundwork and gain trust. Especially with Callias’s cold demeanour. Maybe he would warm up to her if she joined them. “I’d love to.”

EMMERY WATCHED CLOSELY as Callias worked, his bronze vestige pulsing.

Vesper had raved about how talented he was—channelling his magic into elixirs, balms, and all sorts of medicinal plants—but now she was seeing it for herself.

He had buried some seed and pricked his finger, feeding it three drops of blood, his face impassible unlike earlier that afternoon.

Briar was right, Fire Ball had been ridiculous.

No one would have guessed the two cackling men were over a hundred years old as they threatened to hurl the ball at each other’s heads like little boys, rather than sinking it into the pit.

The fire orb was on a timer, giving them a few seconds to pass the ball before it became too hot or caught fire, but they created this sick competition to see who could hold it the longest. The air filled with belly busting laughter and curses loud enough for even the gods to hear.

Emmery mostly watched, listening to the crashing sea nearby though her and Briar stamped out countless flames.

The night before, Vesper shared how he and Iz would go out on a boat or for a dip whenever they pleased.

Clearly it wasn’t a childhood meant for her, but he told it with such melancholy longing she felt as if she could’ve grown to like it.

Maybe if she was raised here, she would have learned to swim.

Briar shrieked after stealing the fireball and made a run for it, but Callias had tucked her under his arm and threatened to toss her into the ocean. Emmery couldn’t hold back her cackle when Briar sank her teeth into his forearm.

It was bizarre, the way they poked and prodded one another and their easy interactions, like the time apart was nothing. The way the two men laughed, Vesper mussing Briar’s hair, and Briar and Callias finding excuses to touch each other. It made Emmery’s chest ache for something she wasn’t sure.

Quiet now as he worked, Callias was a different man. He spoke in short, quipped sentences when asked about the balm for Aera’s wing and Emmery wasn’t ignorant to his avoidance since arriving at the castle. If she had offended him, she didn’t know what she’d done. Was it because she was an outsider?

Emmery gaped as the stem sprouted from the terracotta pot.

Focused on the plant, Callias didn’t react or smile, his vestige pulsing and eyes glowing a brilliant grey blue.

Once the stem grew to the length of his hand, he retrieved cutters from the table beside him and snipped it, leaving enough for future growth.

He meticulously ground the plant, mixing in several ingredients for the balm and when he finished, he scooped it into a glass jar and handed it to Emmery.

“Apply this to her wing once a day,” he said. “It should heal in a week or so.”

“Thank you.” Emmery took the jar, examining the milky-green contents. “I appreciate you doing this for me.”

“I did it for her,” Callias said, his words biting. “I don’t want the little one to suffer. Whatever magic created that wound is heinous.”

“Of course.” Emmery looked away, trying to ignore his tone. She couldn’t help but feel incompetent, not being able to heal Aera’s wound. “We both appreciate it.”

He nodded, turning his back to her as he cleaned his tools and Emmery lingered, seeing if she could draw anything from him. “Where are you from, Callias?”

He kept cleaning, his hands busy. “Delmira.”

She recalled the map and Delmira’s northern location. Did they all have accents? His was surprisingly strong if he hadn’t been back since the barrier closed. “Were you born there?”

“Yes.” He continued cleaning. “The king and queen are my parents.”

Emmery nearly choked. “You and Vesper are so casual about being royalty.” She gripped the counter and leaned against it. “Should I call you Prince Callias?”

“No, Callias is fine. I haven’t been back since the khaos flame went out.” His muscled shoulders flexed as he scrubbed the dirty containers. For someone who worked with plants, he sure had the physique of a warrior.

“You must miss them.” Emmery wrapped her arms around herself nervously. “Are you ... ever going back? If the barrier were to open of course.”

His tone was flat. “No.”

“Why not?” she asked, trying to frame it gently though it felt intrusive.

“You ask a lot of questions.”

She shrugged. “I’m curious.”

His sigh was bloated with annoyance. “I was engaged to marry and chose not to. If I return, I’ll have to follow through with it.”

“Oh,” Emmery blurted, following up with an equally moronic, “How old were you when it was arranged?”

“Since the dawn of time,” he said, his tone condescending as his eyes slid to her. “Why?”

Emmery’s stomach dropped. Having your future decided before you could form your own thoughts and opinions of the world was unfair. Izora had faced the same fate. Maybe the two of them were close. “That must have been suffocating.”

“As royalty, there are expectations,” he put simply.

“Was it—” Emmery cleared her throat. “How does Briar feel about the engagement?”

That stole his attention, and he slowly turned, narrowing his eyes on her like homing in on a target. “What do you mean?”

“Well.” She fidgeted with her tunic, suddenly nervous. “You two are together, right?”

If looks could kill, Emmery would’ve dropped dead.

“You shouldn’t assume things,” he said, his voice practically a growl.

Emmery opened her mouth to speak but he set the pot and tools down, unrolled his sleeves and walked to her, his face cold as stone, eyes blazing a sea of blue.

Her breath caught as she stared up at him and she fell mute.

He was tall—far taller than Vesper—and he certainly didn’t have the same calm disposition.

“Listen,” he started, his tone a punishing hand. “I know you aren’t from here, but you need to understand.” His breath was hot on her face as he towered over her.

Her golden eyes widened.

“Do not ever say that to anyone about us. It could get both of us into irreversible trouble. Briar and I are not together and if we were, we would be sentenced to death. Our kind—” He shook his head.

“It’s illegal. A Fallen and a Hollow cannot be in love or procreate, and even platonic relationships are frowned upon. ”

Staring at him, unease settled into her gut. She reached for words, but none came.

He blinked slowly, his stare sharp. “Do you understand?”

Emmery nodded, her legs numb with fear. She shouldn’t have pushed him. Maybe his trust would never be earned, and she should give up now. Vesper and Briar would do. Or maybe he just saw through her bullshit.

“If anything were to happen to her, I would never forgive you. So, I suggest you watch your tongue.” He glanced down at the jar clutched in Emmery’s hands. “Let me know if you need more balm for Aera. Otherwise, I’ll see you for training.”

Oh, so he had agreed to training with her. But clearly it was purely a favour to Briar and there was no desire to spend time with her. That was bound to be a joy.

Without another word he strode from the room, leaving Emmery staring after him in shock.

“ONCE MORE,” brIAR ORDERED from across the training room.

It was still early morning, but Briar looked as if she had been up before dawn getting ready. Her waved navy hair was flawlessly pulled high on her head, her red tipped fingers tapping on her arm as she waited. Emmery’s heart pounded, her fingers sparking.

They had been at this for hours and Emmery had nearly set the entire training room aflame a dozen times.

It had been the same the two previous days too.

Each time her flame surged like an untamed beast and Briar’s flinch was evident even from across the room.

Emmery studied Briar’s burns when she wasn’t looking, not sure if she should ask if it was too much for her to be close to unruly fire.

Surely, she held trauma from what happened to her.

Holding out her hand, the sparks ignited at Emmery’s fingertips, golden flames lapping hungrily up her hand. The sight of the fire struck old fear into her. It still felt wrong to release it. The heat grazed her cheeks, the flame’s wildness saturating the air.

Briar’s lips parted as she watched her carefully. “Slow, Emmy. Pull it back.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fist, attempting to smother them, but they flared, climbing her arms to her shoulders. Emmery whimpered, trembling in fear. Once she released them, they had a mind of their own and she had thrown open the gates.

“I—I can’t put it out,” Emmery cried, the flames clasping her neck in a chokehold, her pounding heart only fanning them. “I can’t—”

But if she didn’t get under control, she could hurt Briar and Emmery wouldn’t be able to forgive herself.

Her heart rose in her throat.

Briar narrowed the distance, close enough for Emmery’s worry to increase, but far enough that Briar should be safe. Should .

“Look at me,” she ordered.

Tears gathered in Emmery’s eyes. Her sleeves and shirt were burned, the tunic barely holding onto her frame. Emmery stifled the cry bubbling up and met Briar’s calm, scarlet eyes.

“Breathe. Exhale it out.” Briar held her stare as a ragged breath jittered out Emmery’s nose and gestured for her to keep going, slowly in and out.

The flames retreated with her pulse, slinking down her arms to her elbows then her hands, where they lapped playfully, all aggression gone. Was it the fear that fed it?

“Hold it there,” Briar said. “Focus on holding it in your palm. Like your fingers are the bars of the cage. Let it only flow up from your hand. Not out.”

Emmery obeyed, cupping the flame in her hand, the golden waves reflecting in her eyes as she stared at her power. And this time ... it worked. The magic flowed—a brilliant, wild force.

Briar stepped closer. “It’s yours. Control it. Tame it. The gods gave you this for a reason.”

Emmery snapped her fist closed and the flame died. Releasing a relieved sigh she didn’t celebrate yet even though it was the first time.

There was too much work to do.

Whether it was the hours of training or her surprising victory, a wave of dizziness claimed her.

“Good. Keep practicing. Feel it in your blood. In your bones.” Briar placed Emmery’s fist over her heart. “The magic is in here. Don’t fear it. It’s a part of you now.” Briar held her gaze but dropped her hold on Emmery’s fist and offered a cocky smirk. “Say it.”

“It’s ... mine.” Taking a shaky breath, Emmery said, “Part of me. I won’t let it own me.”

She wasn’t sure she believed her own words as she said them.

But gods, she wanted to.

Briar stepped back. “Now, do it again.”