Updated Nov 6, 2025 • ~8 min read
A week later, King Inferno made good on his promise.
“You’ll accompany me to the mortal markets,” he announced at breakfast, his voice carrying across the dining hall. “Every week. Starting today.”
Blaze’s jaw tightened, but he nodded. “As you command, Father.”
Through the bond, Ember felt his anguish. This was his nightmare—being forced to facilitate the very thing he’d been fighting against.
“And you,” Inferno’s gaze landed on Ember. “My son’s pretty mate. You’ll come too. Learn how things really work in the Fire Court.”
“Of course, Your Majesty.” Ember kept her voice neutral.
Inside, she was screaming.
Two hours later, they stood at the same market where Ember had been sold. The place looked exactly the same—twilight skies, the smell of smoke and honeysuckle, mortals in chains on auction blocks.
But everything was different now.
Because now Ember stood on the other side. The buyer’s side.
“This one,” Inferno said, pointing to a young woman on the block. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen, terror clear in her eyes. “She’s defiant. I like defiant. They break so beautifully.”
The auctioneer brought the woman forward, and Ember saw her trembling.
That was me. Three weeks ago, that was me.
“Five hundred gold marks,” Inferno bid casually.
No one countered. No one dared bid against the Fire King.
“Sold!”
The woman was dragged off the block, screaming. Ember felt every second of it through her newly heightened fae senses.
“That’s sixteen this month,” Inferno said with satisfaction. “We’re building quite the collection.”
“What do you plan to do with them?” Blaze asked quietly.
“Use them. What else? Servants, entertainment, labor. Whatever the court needs.” Inferno smiled at his son. “Unless you’d like to make a suggestion?”
It was a trap. Any suggestion would reveal Blaze still cared.
“No suggestion, Father.”
“Good. You’re learning.”
They watched five more mortals be sold. Each one tore at Ember’s heart. Each one made her more determined to end this.
Through the bond, she felt Blaze’s matching rage. His desperate desire to buy them all, free them all.
But he couldn’t. Not anymore.
Finally, mercifully, the market ended.
On the journey back to the Fire Court, Ember leaned close to Blaze and whispered, “We’re getting them out.”
“What?”
“All of them. Every mortal your father just bought. We’re freeing them.”
“Ember, that’s impossible. He’ll be watching them constantly.”
“Then we’ll have to be clever.” Her mind was already racing with plans. “Phoenix can create distractions. The freed mortals can help with logistics. We stage it carefully, make it look like an accident—”
“If we’re caught—”
“We won’t be.” She met his eyes. “I’m not watching those people suffer when we have the power to help them.”
Through the bond, she felt his resistance crumble. “You’re going to get us both killed.”
“Probably. But we’ll die heroes.”
“I’d rather live as cowards.”
“Liar. You’ve never been a coward in your life.”
He almost smiled. “How did I end up bonded to someone so reckless?”
“Lucky, I guess.”
This time he did smile. Small, but real.
That night, they gathered the resistance in the archives again.
“Sixteen mortals,” Marcus said, examining the list Phoenix had acquired. “Your father distributed them across the palace. Servants’ quarters, dungeons, personal chambers.”
“The dungeons will be hardest,” Lark noted. “They’re heavily guarded.”
“Then we start with the servants’ quarters,” Ember said. “Get the easy ones out first, build confidence.”
Phoenix nodded. “I can create portal points in the servants’ areas. Make it look like they escaped during shift changes.”
“Won’t Inferno notice they’re gone?” Sarah asked.
“Not if we replace them.” Ember’s mind was spinning. “The freed mortals who stayed—any of you willing to temporarily pose as new captives?”
The mortals exchanged glances. Finally, Marcus stepped forward. “I’ll do it. I know how to play broken.”
“So will I,” Sarah added.
One by one, they volunteered.
“This is insane,” Lady Kindle said. But she was smiling. “I love it.”
They planned for hours. Rotations, timing, contingencies. By the time the meeting ended, they had a workable strategy.
Risky, but workable.
Over the next week, they executed it perfectly.
Phoenix created “malfunctions” in the palace wards—brief moments where portals could open undetected. During those moments, the captured mortals were whisked away, replaced by volunteers who knew how to fake compliance.
King Inferno never noticed. He was too busy planning his next market visit.
By the end of the week, all sixteen mortals were free.
And Ember felt like they’d won their first real victory.
But victory came with a price.
“The resistance is working,” Ember said to Blaze as they lay in his chambers one night. She’d taken to sleeping there, the bond making separation uncomfortable. “We’ve freed sixteen people in a week.”
“And replaced them with our own people. Who are now at risk.” Blaze stared at the ceiling. “If Inferno discovers the switch—”
“He won’t. Marcus and the others are too good at acting.”
“They shouldn’t have to act. They should be free.”
“They will be. Once we end this for everyone.”
Blaze turned to look at her. “You really believe we can do this? End centuries of tradition?”
“I believe we have to try.”
Through the bond, she felt his uncertainty mixing with hope. It was intoxicating, feeling his emotions like they were her own.
“When do we approach Queen Nyx?” he asked.
“Soon. I’ve been researching her parents’ rebellion. I think I understand where they went wrong.”
“Where?”
“They fought alone. Just the two of them against the world. They didn’t build alliances. Didn’t gather support beyond Shadow Court.” Ember sat up, excited. “But we’re doing it differently. We have Fire Court allies. Freed mortals. Phoenix’s connections. If we can add Shadow Court to that…”
“We’d have a real chance.”
“Exactly.”
“There’s a summit gathering next month,” Blaze said thoughtfully. “All four courts. Nyx will be there. We could request a private audience.”
“Would she grant it?”
“Maybe. If we phrase it right.” He sat up too, mind clearly working. “We frame it as seeking her advice. Her wisdom. Play to her pride.”
“And once we’re private, we reveal the truth.”
“And hope she doesn’t kill us on the spot.”
Ember grinned. “Optimistic as always.”
“Someone has to balance out your recklessness.”
She kissed him, soft and quick. “That’s why we work.”
He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. The bond flared between them, warm and right.
When they broke apart, both breathing hard, Blaze rested his forehead against hers.
“I love you,” he said quietly. “I don’t think I’ve said it clearly enough. But I do. Completely.”
Ember’s heart soared. “I love you too. Even when you’re being pessimistic.”
“Realistic.”
“Pessimistic.”
He laughed, and the sound filled her with joy.
This—this moment of peace and love and hope—was worth fighting for.
All of it was worth fighting for.
The next morning, King Inferno summoned Blaze to the throne room.
Ember waited in their chambers, anxiety building. Something felt wrong.
When Blaze returned, his face was ashen.
“What happened?” she asked.
“He knows.”
Ember’s blood froze. “Knows what?”
“Not about the resistance. About the replacements. One of the mortal volunteers slipped. Called another servant by their real name instead of their alias.” Blaze sank onto the bed. “My father’s interrogating them now.”
Horror crashed through Ember. “We have to get them out—”
“I can’t. If I interfere, he’ll know I’m involved.” Blaze looked at her with devastated eyes. “I have to let them suffer. To protect the others.”
The impossible choice. Save one and expose all, or sacrifice one to save many.
“There has to be another way—”
“There isn’t.” His voice broke. “This is what I’ve been afraid of. The reason I worked alone for so long. Because eventually, people get hurt. People die. And it’s my fault.”
Ember grabbed his face, forcing him to meet her eyes. “It’s not your fault. It’s Inferno’s. He’s the one choosing cruelty.”
“But I’m the one who put them in danger—”
“They chose to help. Chose to fight. You didn’t force them.”
“I should’ve protected them better.”
“You can’t protect everyone from everything.” Ember’s voice was fierce. “But you can honor their choice by continuing the fight.”
Through the bond, she felt him breaking. Felt the weight of three hundred years of guilt crushing down.
She held him as he shattered, as tears finally came—the first she’d seen from him.
And she made a silent vow: King Inferno would pay for every drop of pain.
One way or another, this ended.
Soon.
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