Page 33

EVE

I killed a demon with my bare hands. And still, somehow, it was Ragnar’s smug face that broke me.

The fire hadn’t felt like mine. It was something volatile, separate—alive. And yet I’d used magic. I’d denied it when Ragnar accused me. I believed I was human. But now? Everything was changing too fast to catch.

Orion had carried me all the way back to his truck, his arms steady as I cried into his chest. At some point, the tears had stopped, leaving my eyes burning and raw. Now, every time I blinked, it felt like I was scraping sandpaper across them.

By the time we reached the cabin, I was beyond exhausted. But fear kept me wired. Every creak, every shadow made me flinch.

The cabin door opened before we stepped onto the porch. Xander stood in the doorway, his sharp eyes darting between Orion and me, lingering on my ash-covered face and trembling limbs.

“What happened?”

“Long story,” Orion said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “She needs a shower first.”

He guided me up the stairs, his hand firm on my back, the only thing keeping me upright.

But of course, Ragnar was waiting on the porch like a curse I couldn’t shake.

“Well, well,” he drawled, stepping around Xander. His features laced with challenge as he looked me up and down. “If it isn’t the liar with her little secrets. Care to share them now?”

His smug expression lit a fuse in me I didn’t even know I had left. I wasn’t sure if it was exhaustion or the simmering remnants of fear and adrenaline still coursing through my veins. I stood up straighter, allowing that fire to stare him back down.

“Move, shithead,” Orion said sharply, voicing what I couldn’t. I’d had enough, and this arrogant man was the last person on earth I wanted to see me at my lowest.

Ragnar didn’t budge. Instead, he just continued blocking the door like he had nowhere better to be. His weight was casual, but his eyes burned with accusation.

“I told you she was fucking hiding something! But did any of you fuckers listen to me? Of course not. This little witch has you both completely under her spell—”

I had no idea what came over me. One second I was standing there, a verbal punching bag for Ragnar, the next I was launching myself at him—my punch landing squarely on his nose with a sickening crunch.

The pain shot through my knuckles instantly, white-hot and brutal, but the satisfaction of finally shutting the man up had me grinning. I probably looked deranged but fuck it.

Ragnar’s head tilted back, blood trickling from his nose. God, it was so satisfying to see it. Then his face shifted, veins lighting up with molten fire, like his blood wasn’t blood at all but something far more dangerous and I realized just how much I’d fucked up.

“Ragnar…” Xander’s voice was a warning, but it was too late.

Ragnar lunged for me just as Xander tackled him, the two of them crashing down the porch steps. Chaos erupted around me—shouting, fists flying, the sound of wood splintering.

Before I could process what was happening, Orion’s arms were around me, lifting me off my feet.

“Well, that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, but how about we don’t go punching people twice your size?”

Orion guided me towards the bathroom, and the weight of what I’d done finally settled. I hadn’t been thinking. Just burning. He cradled my aching knuckles in his hands as his magic soothed the pain until it faded entirely, before leaving me to shower.

The girl in the mirror looked like she’d crawled out of hell—soot, bloodshot eyes, ash in her curls. I didn’t recognize her. Didn’t want to.

After I’d showered and changed into the over-sized clothes Orion had left for me, I felt a little more human. The irony of that thought wasn’t lost on me.

The cabin was blessedly quiet when I exited the bathroom, and I crept around quietly in the hopes I could avoid Ragnar for just a little while longer.

Not only had I not thanked the man for saving my life only days ago, but I’d gone and punched him in the face.

I was doing an excellent job of making friends lately.

Xander sat at the kitchen island, holding an ice pack to the side of his face. I could see his lip was busted and a large bruise was beginning to form along his sharp cheekbone, but he didn’t look pissed.

“I’m sorry,” I said tentatively, stepping into the kitchen. “I shouldn’t have done what I did. Thank you for stepping in.”

His icy eyes met mine, and his lip quirked in a quick smile, but he stayed silent.

Unsure what else to do, I took the seat across from him, feeling a million times more awkward than I had when I’d first sat here with him.

“Orion told us what happened,” he said, his voice annoyingly neutral.

“What exactly did he tell you?” I chewed on the inside of my lip. If I was being honest, I really didn’t know what had happened, and I needed someone to tell me straight.

Xander looked a little resigned as he lowered the ice pack, but he didn’t say anything, only adding to my awkwardness.

“Where are the others?” I asked, pulling the damp strands of my hair over one shoulder and frowning at the tangled mess.

“Orion’s outside,” Xander said, leaning casually against the counter. There was a faint glimmer of amusement in his otherwise steady gaze. “Trying to talk Ragnar down.”

I sighed, slumping forward and lying my head on the table, muffling my words. “I need to apologize, don’t I?”

I lifted my head to see Xander’s expression softening, the faintest flicker of understanding crossing his face. “Ragnar’s not one for subtlety, but he’s not mad at you, Eve. Not really.”

I nodded, though the knot in my stomach didn’t ease.

“I just… I don’t know what to do with any of this, Xander.

What happened out there—what I did—” I didn’t say the words I wanted to.

That it was impossible. But Ragnar had been right all along.

I’d been keeping something from them, something I didn’t even know about myself.

“It scared you,” he finished for me.

I glanced up at him, startled by the clarity in his tone. “Yeah. It did. And I still don’t understand why it happened. Or how. I’m not…” I trailed off, shaking my head.

“You’re not what?” Xander prompted in my silence.

“I’m not a Titan!” I snapped. “I’ve lived on Earth. I’ve aged! You don’t age like humans—remember?”

“You’re right,” he leveled. “We don’t know what you are. But if there’s a chance that Orion’s suspicions are correct… we can’t afford to get it wrong again.”

His words settled like stones in my chest.

“I don’t want this,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I don’t want to be a part of a world I don’t understand. I just want my life back.”

Xander’s expression didn’t waver, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—empathy, maybe.

“You need to practice,” he said simply. “Learn to control whatever it is that’s inside you. Whether it’s Titan magic or something else, you won’t know until you try.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” I admitted quietly, more to myself than to him. “What if I can’t control it? What if it happens again, and I hurt someone this time?”

Xander’s neutral features twisted into a grin, so full of confidence that it stole my breath away.

“Then it’s a good thing you’ve got me.”

“I give up,” I dropped my hands into my lap, my shoulders slumping as I let out an exasperated groan. The past few days were a blur of work, sleep, and magic training. After every grueling shift, we sat outside for hours, long after the sun had set, trying in vain to summon a single spark.

Orion sat cross-legged in front of me, leaning back on his hands with an easy grin. “You need to be more patient with yourself, Sunshine.”

“Patient?” I shot back, glaring at him. “This is me being patient!”

He chuckled softly. “I get it, but the more you use it, the easier it gets. You have to stop holding it back. Let it burn through you.”

I huffed, brushing stray strands of hair from my face. I’d been trying to pull the magic to the surface all day, but it felt like chasing smoke—there one second and gone the next.

“Maybe it was a fluke,” I said, finally voicing my doubts.

Orion’s expression didn’t falter. “There’s no way that was a fluke. I’d bet my sword you’re a full-blooded Titan. I have no doubt that you’ll be lighting bonfires across Gondor any day now.“

Xander snorted from his spot, leaning against a nearby tree. He’d been on standby with his water element, just in case I did manage to blow anything up, but honestly, he must be bored by now.

“Don’t listen to him,” he said, his voice steady. “You’ll get there. Fire’s a tricky element. It doesn’t like being controlled.”

“Magic doesn’t like being rushed,” Orion pressed. “You have to coax it out, not scare it off.”

“Coax it? It’s fire, not a shy kitten.”

“Maybe you just need to think of it differently,” Xander offered. “Fire isn’t just destruction. It’s warmth, protection, and transformation. You’re probably focusing too much on one aspect of it.”

His words made sense, but after hours of trying and failing, I was too frustrated to appreciate the wisdom. I flopped onto my back, staring up at the canopy of leaves above me. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, painting the edges of the forest in gold and amber.

“We’ve been at this for hours, and I’ve still not been able to set anything on fire.”

“I mean, that’s probably a good thing. Otherwise, we’d be out of daylight and down a cabin.”

My jaw tightened, and I cast a glance toward Xander, who simply shrugged, his lips twitching as if to suppress a smile.

The cabin door creaked open behind us, and Ragnar strode out.

He’d been hovering all week, watching our training sessions with the kind of smug disapproval that made my skin crawl. His presence was like the hum of an earthquake before the first tremor, quiet but brimming with tension, and I tensed instinctively.

“Well,” he drawled, his voice thick with mockery, “I’m impressed. All this effort, and not even a scorch mark to show for it.”