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Snow crunched under Aria’s boots, melted in patches where the fire radiated from her skin. She should have felt the cold, the sting of the winter air—but all she felt was heat.
Not just from her fire.
From the voice.
It slid through her veins like smoke, curling around her thoughts, neither male nor female, but everywhere at once.
Aria.
Her name was a caress, a command, a promise.
They fear you. They chain you. But you burn brighter than all of them combined.
Her heart thudded, uneven. “Who are you?” she whispered into the night.
The forest answered with silence, branches swaying, snow dripping from limbs.
Then the voice again, lower, sharper.
We are the only ones who see you for what you are. Fire born of shadow. Flame that cannot be quenched. Come, and you will learn your
