Updated Nov 6, 2025 • ~13 min read
Ember woke to sunlight and panic.
She was still in Blaze’s chambers. Still in his arms.
And someone was knocking on the door.
Blaze stirred, awareness flooding his features instantly. He looked down at her, then at the door, and cursed in a language she didn’t recognize.
“Your Highness?” A guard’s voice. “King Inferno has returned. He requests your presence in the throne room immediately.”
Blaze’s entire body went rigid. “I’ll be there shortly.”
“He said immediately, Your Highness.”
“I heard you the first time.” The temperature in the room spiked, making the guard back away from the door. “I said shortly.”
Footsteps retreated.
Ember sat up quickly, ignoring the twinge in her back. “Your father’s here?”
“Yes.” Blaze was already moving, putting distance between them. “This is bad.”
“Why?”
“Because he’ll want to see you. To assess my newest ‘acquisition.'” Blaze’s expression was grim. “My father is everything you feared I was. And he’ll expect me to prove my cruelty in front of him.”
Ember’s stomach dropped. “What do we do?”
“You stay here. I’ll tell him you’re being punished in isolation. That should buy us a few days.”
“And then?”
“Then we move up the timeline. Stage your death this week instead of next month.”
“This week?” Ember’s chest tightened. The bond thrummed with resistance at the thought of leaving him.
Blaze noticed. “I know. The bond won’t like it. But it’s better than the alternative.”
“Which is?”
“My father discovering what I’ve been doing and killing everyone I’ve ever freed. Including you.” He moved to his wardrobe, pulling out fresh clothes. “I need to go. Stay here. Don’t let anyone see you in my chambers.”
“Blaze—”
“Please, Ember. Just… trust me.”
She did. That was the problem.
He left, and Ember was alone in his private chambers with too many thoughts and a bond that was screaming at her to follow him.
She ignored it, pacing instead.
King Inferno. The true monster. The sadist who’d shaped Blaze’s childhood and forced him into this role.
What would he do when he found out the truth?
A soft knock made her jump. Phoenix slipped inside, shutting the door quickly behind him.
“We have a problem,” he said.
“I know. The king’s back.”
“It’s worse than that.” Phoenix’s expression was grave. “He didn’t come alone. He brought the other court leaders. All of them. Spring, Shadow, and Winter.”
“Why?”
“Summit. They’re discussing the mortal trade regulations.” Phoenix moved closer, lowering his voice. “And Kestrel has been talking to King Inferno. About Blaze.”
Ember’s blood chilled. “What did she say?”
“That she has suspicions. That she wants to ‘test’ his loyalty.” Phoenix’s eyes were worried. “Blaze is walking into a trap, and he knows it.”
“We have to warn him—”
“He already knows. Why do you think he’s insisting on seeing them immediately? He’s going on the offensive. Making himself the aggressor so they can’t corner him.”
“That’s risky.”
“Everything about this is risky.” Phoenix started pacing. “Look, I can get you out right now. Create a portal, send you to the mortal realm with enough gold to start over. You’d be safe.”
“And Blaze?”
“Would probably die defending the lie. But at least you’d survive.”
Ember stared at him. “You really think I’d run? Leave him to face this alone?”
“I think you’re bonded to him, which means your judgment is compromised. I think staying puts both of you in more danger.” Phoenix’s voice gentled. “Ember, I’ve known Blaze for two hundred years. He’s my best friend. And I’m telling you—the kindest thing you can do for him is leave. Let him focus on survival instead of protecting you.”
“No.”
“Ember—”
“I said no.” She crossed her arms. “If he’s in danger, I stay. We face it together.”
“The mate bond is influencing you—”
“The mate bond is making me see clearly!” Ember’s voice rose. “He’s spent fifty years alone, carrying this burden by himself. I’m not adding to his guilt by running when things get hard.”
Phoenix studied her for a long moment. “You’re falling for him.”
“I’m already fallen.” The admission felt like jumping off a cliff. “I don’t know when it happened. Maybe when he held me through the pain. Maybe when I saw him cry in his sleep last night over the mortals he can’t save. Maybe it was always inevitable.”
“The bond—”
“Isn’t just the bond. I see him, Phoenix. The real him. And I’m choosing to stay.”
“Even if it kills you?”
“Even then.”
Phoenix closed his eyes. “You’re both idiots.”
“Probably.”
“Definitely.” He opened his eyes again. “Fine. If you’re staying, we do this smart. I’m going to teach you defensive magic. Basic shields, heat resistance, emergency portal activation. If this goes wrong, you need to be able to protect yourself.”
“I thought mortals couldn’t do magic.”
“Mortals can’t. But you’re bonded to one of the most powerful fae in the Fire Court. That bond is a conduit. You can channel Blaze’s magic if he allows it.”
Ember’s mind reeled. “He didn’t mention that.”
“Because he’s trying to minimize the bond, not strengthen it. But if we’re preparing for war, we need every advantage.” Phoenix extended his hand. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Then let’s begin.”
For the next hour, Phoenix taught Ember the basics. How to feel for the bond, pull on it gently, let Blaze’s fire magic flow through her. It was difficult, exhausting work. But slowly, she started to feel it—warmth gathering in her palms, responding to her will.
“Good,” Phoenix said. “Now try to—”
The door burst open.
Blaze stood there, and his expression was devastating.
“He knows,” Blaze said flatly. “My father knows everything.”
The throne room was a nightmare made real.
Ember stood beside Blaze in the center of the room, surrounded by fae from all four courts. The court leaders sat in judgment: King Inferno of Fire, Queen Glaciel of Winter (Kestrel’s mother), King Thornweave of Spring, and Queen Nyx of Shadow.
And they all looked at Blaze like he was already dead.
King Inferno spoke first, his voice like crackling flames. “My son. My disappointing, traitorous son.”
He was larger than Blaze, broader, with flames that danced in his eyes like madness. This was what Blaze could become if he embraced cruelty.
“Father.” Blaze’s voice was carefully neutral. “You summoned me.”
“I did. Because I’ve heard disturbing rumors.” King Inferno stood, descending from his throne. “Rumors that you’ve been playing games. Pretending to torture mortals while actually protecting them.”
The court held its breath.
“Who told you this?” Blaze asked.
“Does it matter? The question is—is it true?”
This was it. The moment everything balanced on.
Blaze could deny it. Could lie through omission, twist the truth.
Or he could own it.
Ember watched him weigh his options, saw the moment he made his choice.
“Yes,” Blaze said clearly. “It’s true.”
The court erupted.
King Inferno’s face went purple with rage. “You admit it? You admit to freeing the mortals I paid for? To undermining our laws?”
“I admit to showing mercy where the law showed none.”
“MERCY?” King Inferno’s roar shook the walls. Fire erupted around him, wild and dangerous. “You dare speak of mercy to me?”
“Someone has to.”
Inferno moved faster than should be possible, his hand wrapping around Blaze’s throat. “You’ve always been weak. Always cared too much for lesser beings. I should’ve burned that softness out of you centuries ago.”
Blaze didn’t fight back. Didn’t struggle.
And Ember realized why—fighting would put her in danger. The king was trying to provoke him into attacking, which would justify execution.
So she did the only thing she could.
“Let him go,” she said loudly.
Every eye turned to her.
King Inferno’s gaze was reptilian. “The mortal speaks. How delightful.”
“If you’re going to punish someone, punish me. I’m the one who convinced him to free me.”
It was a lie. But a useful one.
Blaze’s eyes widened. “Ember, no—”
“It’s true,” she continued, meeting Inferno’s burning stare. “I’m educated. I know fae can’t lie. So I asked him the right questions. Trapped him into admitting what he was doing. And then I threatened to expose him unless he freed others.”
The lie was elaborate. Risky.
But King Inferno was listening.
“A mortal,” he said slowly, “blackmailed my son?”
“I’m a scholar’s daughter. I know how to manipulate truth.” Ember lifted her chin. “Blaze’s weakness isn’t mercy. It’s pride. He couldn’t stand being outsmarted by a mortal. So he did what I asked to shut me up.”
Kestrel spoke up from her throne. “That’s absurd. She’s clearly lying to protect him.”
“Is she?” King Inferno released Blaze, moving toward Ember. “Fae can’t lie. But mortals can. And a mortal clever enough to manipulate my son…” He smiled, sharp and cruel. “Now that’s entertaining.”
“Father, she has nothing to do with—”
“Silence.” Inferno didn’t look away from Ember. “If what you say is true, girl, then prove it. Tell me—how did you figure out my son’s deception?”
Ember’s mind raced. “The first night. He had me brought to his study. Spoke privately. That’s not what cruel fae do—they display their power publicly. The privacy meant secrets.”
“Go on.”
“So I asked him directly: ‘Are you going to cause my death?’ He said no. Fae can’t lie. So I knew he planned to free me eventually. From there, it was easy to ask more questions. Get more truths.”
Inferno circled her slowly. “And the other mortals? How did you know about them?”
“I saw the ledger. The names. Asked him to explain.”
“And he just… told you?”
“I threatened to expose him during the next court gathering. Scream the truth for everyone to hear. Even if they killed me, the damage would be done.” Ember forced herself to smile. “He couldn’t risk it.”
It was plausible. Just barely.
King Inferno looked at Blaze. “Is this true?”
Blaze’s expression was carefully blank. “She’s lying.”
“Fae can’t lie, but they can be manipulated,” Ember countered. “Isn’t that right, Your Highness? Did you or did you not tell me you planned to free me?”
“I—” Blaze stopped. He couldn’t deny it without lying. “Yes.”
“And did you or did you not show me the ledger of freed mortals?”
“Yes.”
“Because I threatened to expose you if you didn’t?”
Blaze’s jaw clenched. “…Yes.”
The lie would protect him. Make him look like a victim instead of a willing participant.
He saw what she was doing. And he hated it.
But he played along anyway.
King Inferno didn’t laugh. His eyes narrowed dangerously. “A mortal. Blackmailed. My son.”
“It’s not as implausible as it sounds,” Queen Nyx said quietly from her throne. “Mortals can lie. Fae cannot. A clever mortal could indeed trap a fae with the right questions.”
“But forty-three mortals?” Kestrel protested. “Over fifty years? That’s not just being outsmarted once. That’s systematic deception.”
Ember’s heart hammered. Kestrel wasn’t buying it.
“Unless,” Queen Glaciel said thoughtfully, “the mortal had help. Other mortals feeding her information. Creating a network.”
Inferno’s gaze snapped to Ember. “Is that it? Have you been coordinating with the others he freed?”
“No,” Ember lied smoothly. Mortals could lie. “I figured it out alone. I’m educated. I read about fae customs, learned how to ask questions that couldn’t be deflected.”
“Convenient,” Kestrel muttered.
“Quiet.” Inferno raised a hand. He circled Ember slowly, studying her like a predator. “Whether you manipulated my son or not, the fact remains: forty-three mortals freed. That’s a significant loss of property and prestige.”
“I’ll repay—” Blaze started.
“With what? Your life?” Inferno’s smile was cruel. “No. I have a better idea.”
Dread pooled in Ember’s stomach.
“You clearly can’t be trusted with mortals,” Inferno continued. “So from now on, you’re forbidden from purchasing them. The family’s participation in the mortal trade will be handled by me alone.”
Blaze’s face went ashen. “Father, please—”
“Additionally, to prove your loyalty—and to determine if this mortal’s story is true…” Inferno gestured to Ember. “Kill this one. The mortal who made a fool of you. Right here. Right now. If you hesitate, I’ll know she’s lying to protect you.”
The throne room went silent.
Ember’s heart stopped.
And Blaze looked at his father with barely contained horror.
“I—” he started.
“It’s simple, boy. Kill the mortal, prove you’re still loyal to the Fire Court, and I’ll consider your punishment complete.” Inferno’s eyes gleamed. “Or refuse, and I’ll know the rumors are true—that you care more for mortal lives than fae law.”
Blaze’s hands clenched into fists. Fire danced along his skin, wild and uncontrolled.
And Ember realized they were out of options.
If Blaze killed her, the bond would kill him too. Probably.
If he refused, both of them died anyway.
There was no way out.
“Do it,” Ember said quietly.
Blaze’s eyes snapped to hers. “What?”
“Kill me. Prove your loyalty.” She stepped closer to him. “It’s okay.”
“Ember, I can’t—”
“You have to. It’s the only way you survive.” She reached for his hand, and the bond flared between them. Through it, she sent a single message: Trust me.
Understanding flickered in his eyes.
Then he pulled her close, his hand wrapping around her throat gently.
To the court, it looked like violence.
To Ember, it felt like goodbye.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Don’t be. This was always how it ended.”
“Not like this.”
“Exactly like this.” She smiled, soft and sad. “You’ll keep saving them, right? The others?”
“I can’t—I’m forbidden—”
“Find a way. You always find a way.”
His hand tightened slightly. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to look real.
The bond pulsed between them, strong and alive and absolutely certain.
And Ember realized the truth: the bond wouldn’t let him kill her.
Which meant when he tried, it would kill them both.
At least they’d die together.
Better than dying alone.
She closed her eyes and waited for the end.
But instead of death, she felt heat.
Incredible, overwhelming heat that poured from Blaze into her. Through the bond, through his touch, through every connection between them.
And she burst into flames.
Real flames that danced across her skin without burning.
She heard the court gasp.
Felt Blaze’s shock echoing through the bond.
And understood what had just happened.
The mate bond hadn’t let him kill her.
Instead, it had activated.
Completely and irrevocably.
Making her immortal.
Making her fae.
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