Flame Beneath The Moon.

Chapter 4: The Fire Inside*

Leanna gasped, her eyes snapping open, breath catching halfway in her chest like something had reached in and squeezed.

“Dang it,” she whispered, shaking her head slowly, like she could physically dislodge the feeling. “Every time… it just—slips.”

She pressed her fingers to her temples, eyes squeezing shut again—not searching this time, but holding on. Like if she stayed still enough, quiet enough, the memory might come back on its own.

For a second—

it did.

Not a full image. Never a full image.

Just pieces.

Heat first. Not the kind from a stove or summer sun, but something deeper. Alive. It wrapped around her ribs, settled into her bones like it had always belonged there. Safe… but not soft. Never soft.

Then a shape—no, not even a shape. A presence. Tall. Steady. The kind that didn’t need to announce itself because everything already knew it was there.

And then—

eyes.

Gold. Not bright, not glowing—burning. Like they held something older than light.

Leanna’s breath stuttered.

“There you are…” she murmured, voice barely there.

The memory shifted, trying to form around that moment, like fog pulling itself into something solid. A voice followed—low, steady, close enough to feel against her skin.

“If it wakes in her—”

Gone.

Just like that.

The warmth vanished. The presence collapsed in on itself. The voice cut clean in half like it had never finished speaking.

Leanna’s eyes flew open, a sharp inhale tearing through her chest.

Her hand dropped from her temple to her heart, gripping at her shirt like she could hold the memory there instead.

“I almost had it,” she said, her voice thin with frustration. “I almost—” She stopped, shaking her head again, slower this time. Tired. “It won’t let me keep it. Every time I get close, it just… pulls away.”

The kitchen felt too small for a moment. Too quiet.

Like something had passed through it and refused to stay.

Leanna blinked, her gaze drifting back to Nola, but not fully landing—like part of her was still reaching for something just out of sight.

“I know he said more,” she added softly. “I can feel it sitting right there… like a word on the tip of your tongue you can’t quite catch.” Her brow tightened slightly. “But whatever took my memory… it was careful. It didn’t just erase him. It left just enough so I’d know he was real.”

A pause.

“And just enough so I’d know this… was always coming.”