CHAPTER 7- THE GIRL BURIED IN THE FIRE
1791 Words
The tunnel shook again.
Hard.
Dust rained from the ceiling as cracks spread across the walls like veins splitting open beneath the concrete.
Amara’s breathing turned sharp.
Fast.
The man stood in front of her calmly while the world collapsed around them, his eyes locked onto hers like nothing else mattered.
“What is my real name?” she whispered again.
His smile deepened slightly.
But before he could answer—
Lucian grabbed her arm and pulled her back against him.
“We move. Now.”
Another violent crack echoed through the tunnel.
The ceiling groaned.
A large chunk of concrete crashed behind them, sealing off the path they had just come from.
Amara flinched instinctively, stumbling into Lucian’s chest.
His arm tightened around her waist automatically to steady her.
For one brief second—
Everything else disappeared.
The danger.
The shaking tunnel.
The man watching them.
All she could feel was Lucian’s grip.
Warm.
Strong.
Possessive.
Too familiar.
His face lowered slightly toward hers, his jaw tight with focus.
“Can you run?” he asked.
Amara hated that her pulse reacted to the sound of his voice this close to her.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Then he released her.
And somehow that felt worse.
The man watched the exchange with quiet amusement.
“Interesting,” he murmured.
Lucian’s eyes darkened instantly.
“Shut up.”
Another crack split through the tunnel.
The lights overhead flickered violently before dying completely.
Darkness swallowed them.
Amara’s breath caught.
Then—
Lucian’s hand found hers immediately.
Firm.
Certain.
“I’ve got you,” he said quietly.
The words settled somewhere dangerous inside her chest.
The man’s voice echoed from somewhere ahead of them.
“There’s another way out.”
Lucian didn’t move.
“Why would you help us?”
A pause.
Then—
“Because if she dies now,” the man said calmly, “everything ends.”
Amara frowned in the darkness.
“What does that mean?”
No answer.
Lucian tightened his grip on her hand.
“Move.”
They followed the sound of the man’s footsteps deeper through the tunnel while debris continued falling around them.
Amara could barely see.
Barely think.
Her mind kept replaying everything she had heard.
Your memories were taken.
Your father is alive.
That’s not your name.
The words clawed through her mind relentlessly.
Another violent tremor shook the tunnel.
Amara lost her footing slightly—
Lucian caught her instantly.
His arm wrapped around her waist again, pulling her firmly against him before she could fall.
“You need to focus,” he said close to her ear.
“I am focused.”
“No,” he said quietly. “You’re spiraling.”
The fact that he noticed irritated her.
The fact that he was right irritated her more.
“I’m fine.”
“That’s a lie.”
His voice softened slightly.
“And you don’t have to keep saying it.”
Her chest tightened unexpectedly.
For a second, she looked up at him in the darkness.
Could barely make out the outline of his face.
But she could feel him.
Steady.
Solid.
Dangerous.
Safe.
The contradiction unsettled her.
The man ahead suddenly stopped.
“We’re here.”
A metallic door emerged faintly through the darkness.
Old.
Rust-covered.
Hidden inside the concrete wall.
Lucian immediately stepped in front of Amara again.
Instinct.
Always instinct.
The man glanced at him.
“You know,” he said calmly, “for someone who claims he’s protecting her, you spend most of your time lying to her.”
Lucian’s jaw tightened.
“And you spend yours manipulating her.”
The man smirked.
“She was manipulated long before I arrived.”
Amara stepped forward before Lucian could stop her.
“Open the door.”
The man’s eyes flicked toward her.
“Careful,” he said softly. “Curiosity is what destroyed your brother.”
The words hit hard.
Lucian saw it immediately.
“Enough.”
But Amara’s anger had already surfaced.
“No,” she snapped. “No more half-truths. No more secrets.”
Her voice echoed through the narrow tunnel.
“You keep talking about my brother like everyone here knows something I don’t.”
Silence.
Then the man sighed lightly.
“Your brother wasn’t supposed to find the files.”
Amara’s heart pounded.
“What files?”
“The ones connected to your family.”
Lucian’s expression darkened instantly.
“That’s enough.”
But the man ignored him.
“He found proof that the fire wasn’t an accident.”
Amara froze.
Everything inside her went still.
“What?”
The man held her gaze.
“The night your house burned,” he said quietly, “someone ordered it.”
Her stomach dropped violently.
“No…”
“Yes.”
Lucian stepped forward sharply.
“We are not doing this here.”
But Amara barely heard him anymore.
“Who ordered it?” she whispered.
The man hesitated.
For the first time since she met him—
He hesitated.
Then—
“Your father.”
Silence exploded around them.
Amara stared at him.
Her mind refusing to process the words.
“That’s impossible.”
Lucian moved instantly.
“He’s lying.”
But something in his voice—
Something small—
Felt wrong.
Amara turned toward him slowly.
“You knew.”
It wasn’t a question.
Lucian didn’t answer quickly enough.
And that silence said everything.
Her chest tightened painfully.
“You knew?” she repeated.
Lucian exhaled slowly.
“Yes.”
The word shattered something inside her.
“You knew my father killed my family?”
“No,” Lucian said sharply. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“Then explain it!”
Another tremor ripped through the tunnel.
The walls cracked louder this time.
The man glanced upward.
“We’re running out of time.”
“I don’t care!” Amara snapped.
But Lucian did.
Because survival was written into every instinct he had.
“We leave first,” he said. “Then we talk.”
“You said that before.”
“Because it’s true.”
“You keep deciding what truth I can handle!”
Lucian stepped closer suddenly.
Too close.
His eyes locked onto hers.
“You think I wanted this for you?” he asked quietly.
The intensity in his voice caught her off guard.
“You think I wanted you dragged back into this world?”
Amara’s breath faltered slightly.
“Then why am I here?”
His jaw tightened.
“Because they found you first.”
Silence.
The words settled heavily between them.
Before she could respond, the man inserted a code into the rusted door.
A loud mechanical click echoed.
Then the door slowly creaked open.
Cold air rushed inside.
Lucian immediately moved forward, gun raised.
The space beyond looked abandoned.
An underground train platform.
Dark.
Empty.
Dust-covered.
“What is this place?” Amara asked softly.
“A forgotten exit route,” the man replied.
Lucian scanned the shadows carefully before lowering the gun slightly.
“We move.”
They stepped onto the platform.
The tunnel behind them groaned violently again.
Concrete collapsed in chunks now.
The entire structure was failing.
Amara looked around uneasily.
Everything felt frozen in time.
Old signs.
Broken lights.
Rusted tracks disappearing into darkness.
And then—
She noticed something.
A symbol painted faintly on the wall.
Her breath caught instantly.
Because she recognized it.
Not consciously.
Not logically.
But somewhere deeper.
A black serpent curled around a crown.
Her head suddenly pulsed sharply.
Pain exploded behind her eyes.
She gasped, stumbling slightly.
Lucian caught her immediately.
“Amara?”
She grabbed his arm tightly.
“I know that symbol.”
The man looked back slowly.
Interesting.
“How?” Lucian asked.
“I don’t know.”
Another flash hit her.
Quick.
Violent.
A room filled with men.
The same symbol everywhere.
A little girl standing beside a tall man.
His hand resting on her shoulder.
Proud.
Possessive.
Then—
Blood.
Amara gasped sharply and pulled away.
Lucian steadied her again.
“Look at me.”
She tried.
But her breathing had turned uneven.
“I remember him.”
Both men went still.
Lucian’s voice lowered carefully.
“Who?”
“My father.”
Silence.
The man’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“What do you remember?”
Amara pressed a hand against her head.
“Nothing clear.”
But that wasn’t true.
Something was becoming clearer.
Something dangerous.
“He called me something else.”
Lucian’s jaw tightened.
“What?”
Her breathing slowed slightly as she searched through the fragments.
Then—
Her eyes widened.
“Seraphina.”
The name echoed through the abandoned station.
The man smiled slowly.
“There she is.”
Lucian went completely still.
Amara looked at him instantly.
And what she saw in his face terrified her more than anything else tonight.
Recognition.
Real recognition.
“You know that name,” she whispered.
Lucian didn’t answer.
Didn’t need to.
“Lucian…”
His eyes met hers slowly.
And for the first time—
She saw fear in them.
Not for himself.
For her.
The man watched quietly.
“You finally remember.”
Amara’s pulse raced violently.
“What does it mean?”
Lucian exhaled slowly.
Painfully.
“It means,” he said quietly, “you were never supposed to come back.”
Before she could respond—
A loud metallic sound echoed across the station.
All three froze instantly.
Not tunnel collapse.
Something else.
Footsteps.
Dozens of them.
Lucian’s expression hardened immediately.
“They found us.”
The man glanced toward the dark tracks.
“Faster than expected.”
Lights suddenly flooded the station from the far tunnel entrance.
Blinding.
Armed men poured in from both sides.
At least twenty.
Maybe more.
Amara’s breath caught.
Lucian stepped directly in front of her again, gun raised instantly.
The man beside them remained strangely calm.
Then—
A voice echoed through the station.
Cold.
Powerful.
Familiar.
“Seraphina.”
Amara froze.
The armed men stepped aside slowly.
Making room.
A figure emerged from the shadows.
Tall.
Imposing.
Dressed entirely in black.
Silver streaks cut through his dark hair.
His presence alone changed the air.
Amara’s chest tightened painfully.
Because somehow—
She knew him.
Not from memory.
From blood.
His eyes locked onto hers.
And softened slightly.
“My daughter,” he said quietly.
Lucian’s grip on his gun tightened dangerously.
“Stay behind me.”
But Amara barely heard him.
Because the man standing across the station—
The man she had believed was dead her entire life—
Was looking at her like he had finally found something that belonged to him.
And then he smiled.
Not warmly.
Not kindly.
Possessively.
“Come home, Seraphina.”
- Writer
