Claimed By Fire And Crown

Chapter 19

I sat down because my legs suddenly didn’t trust me anymore.

Not gracefully. Not dramatically either. I just reached the closest chair and dropped into it before my body could decide collapsing was a better option. The warmth beneath my ribs pulsed unevenly again, reacting to the sharp spiral of thoughts crashing through my head faster than I could sort them.

Secret conversation.

Known about me.

Wards.

Magic.

Every sentence somehow made things worse.

Vaelor watched me carefully from across the room, his posture relaxed enough to appear harmless if someone wasn’t paying attention. Unfortunately for me, I was paying attention now. There was something sharp hidden beneath his calmness, something older and more dangerous than he first appeared.

Not like the Butcher.

Different.

Rhaegar crossed back toward the kitchen without speaking, though I noticed the way his attention never fully left the room. He set another mug near the counter before pouring coffee into it like this was a normal morning and not the complete destruction of my sanity.

Vaelor took the mug when Rhaegar handed it over. “You’re glaring at me,” he observed.

“I’m considering throwing you back outside.”

“That feels hostile.”

“You frightened the wards.”

Vaelor looked genuinely offended by that. “The wards frightened me first.”

I stared at both of them. “I hate this conversation.”

Something suspiciously close to amusement crossed Rhaegar’s face before disappearing behind another sip of coffee.

That was becoming concerningly common.

Vaelor leaned one shoulder against the wall near the kitchen entrance, pale eyes shifting back toward me again. “You really don’t know anything, do you?”

My jaw tightened immediately. “People keep saying that like it’s my fault.”

Something in his expression changed slightly at that, enough that the sharper edge in him eased.

“That wasn’t meant as criticism,” he said.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

He exhaled quietly through his nose before glancing toward Rhaegar. “You should’ve told her sooner.”

“She wasn’t ready.”

“And now?”

Rhaegar’s gaze flicked briefly toward me. “Now she doesn’t have a choice.”

Silence settled heavily after that.

I hated how often people were deciding things about my life without actually including me in the conversation.

The warmth beneath my ribs flared again, sharper this time, and the fire behind me snapped loudly in response.

All three of us looked toward it.

“Okay,” I said immediately. “That keeps happening and no one’s reacting enough.”

Vaelor stared openly at the flames now, something unreadable moving through his expression. “Interesting.”

“I’m begging everyone in this house to stop saying things like that.”

“You’re affecting the fire more consistently now,” Rhaegar said.

“That doesn’t explain why.”

“No,” Vaelor replied quietly. “But it confirms it.”

I pointed at him instantly. “See? That. That’s exactly what I mean.”

A real smile almost appeared that time before he pushed it back down. “You have more control than most first awakenings.”

I froze.

The room went silent again, but this time it wasn’t because of tension.

It was because of the words.

First awakening.

Slowly, I looked between them. “What exactly does that mean?”

Neither answered immediately.

I stood before they could avoid it again, frustration surging fast enough that heat rolled sharply through my chest. The fire behind me flared higher instantly, flames twisting upward against the stone.

Vaelor’s eyes widened slightly.

Rhaegar stayed calm.

Of course he did.

“No,” I said, shaking my head as I backed away from the fireplace. “No more vague answers. I’m serious this time.”

“You were serious before,” Rhaegar said.

“That’s not helping.”

The flames crackled violently again.

I sucked in a breath and forced myself still, but the warmth under my skin kept building anyway, stronger now than it had been upstairs. It spread through my arms, my chest, my throat—not painful, just too much.

Too alive.

Vaelor straightened immediately. “Rhaegar.”

“I know.”

That got my attention fast.

I looked between them sharply. “Know what?”

Neither answered me.

Again.

The pressure inside me surged harder.

Something bright flashed suddenly at the edges of my vision, brief enough that I almost thought I imagined it, but the fire exploded upward at the exact same moment.

Heat slammed through the room.

I stumbled back instinctively, my heart jumping into my throat as flames roared violently inside the fireplace before twisting unnaturally toward me.

Toward my hands.

“What is happening?” I demanded, panic finally breaking through.

“Look at me.”

Rhaegar’s voice cut cleanly through the chaos.

I did automatically.

He crossed the room toward me slowly, deliberate and steady while the fire continued snapping wildly behind him. Vaelor moved too, but stopped near the edge of the room like he understood instinctively that getting too close right now would be a mistake.

“Breathe,” Rhaegar said again.

“I am breathing!”

“No,” he replied evenly. “You’re panicking.”

The frustrating part was that he was right.

Heat pulsed sharply beneath my skin again, stronger this time, and I looked down instinctively—

Then froze.

Faint gold flickered beneath the surface of my skin.

Not glowing exactly.

Burning.

My breath caught hard.

Rhaegar reached me a second later, one hand closing carefully around my wrist. The contact grounded something instantly, the heat stuttering beneath my skin instead of continuing to rise.

“Look at me,” he repeated quietly.

I forced my eyes back up to his.

The fire behind us still raged against the stone, but dimmer now. Less violent.

“How are you so calm?” I whispered.

“Because you’re not dangerous.”

The certainty in his voice hit harder than panic did.

“But—”

“You’re overwhelmed,” he interrupted gently. “Not out of control.”

Another pulse of heat moved through me, but weaker now, reacting more to his voice than my fear.

Rhaegar noticed immediately.

Of course he did.

“Focus on me,” he said quietly.

The room narrowed strangely after that.

Not physically.

My attention did.

The fire.

The panic.

Vaelor watching from across the room.

It all faded slightly beneath the steadiness of Rhaegar’s grip and the impossible calm in his expression. Slowly, the warmth beneath my skin began easing back down, settling instead of spreading.

The flames lowered with it.

Silence followed.

Heavy breathing filled the room for a second before I realized most of it was mine.

Rhaegar’s hand still wrapped around my wrist.

Warm.

Steady.

Safe.

The realization hit hard enough that I immediately looked away.

“That,” Vaelor said carefully into the silence, “was not supposed to happen yet.”

I closed my eyes briefly.

“Fantastic,” I muttered weakly. “Love that for me.”