What burns,Blooms
1009 Words
The city trembled beneath the weight of its own secrets.
The moon hung low and full, painting the sky in bone-white light as the mansion pulsed with quiet energy. Somewhere far below, a storm threatened the edges of the horizon but inside the walls of the Bloom estate, another storm was already unfolding.
Zariah stood in front of the old ceremonial mirror, brushing her fingers across the silver surface. Her reflection didn’t show power or rage. It showed want. It showed need.
For clarity.
For connection.
For Raye.
She turned as the door creaked.
Raye stood there black shirt half-unbuttoned, eyes unreadable, tension coiled in every line of her body. She looked like a weapon that had forgotten it could bleed.
“You sent for me,” Raye said, her voice low.
Zariah stepped forward. “We keep circling. Pulling back, holding back. I’m tired of wondering if the world has to end before I get to feel alive.”
Raye’s jaw clenched. “This isn’t safe. We’re on the edge of war.”
“Exactly. So if I only have tonight, I’m not wasting it. Not with you.”
A long silence.
Then Raye closed the door behind her.
The lock clicked.
Zariah didn’t wait.
She crossed the room, grabbed Raye by the collar, and kissed her like gravity had finally given up on holding them apart.
It was no longer slow.
No longer gentle.
Raye’s mouth was fire hands gripping Zariah’s waist, pulling her up, slamming her against the cold mirror with a soft thud that made her gasp. Zariah clawed at her shirt, dragging it off, revealing the maze of scars she had once only glimpsed in shadows.
Raye hissed when Zariah traced them.
“Does it hurt?”
“Only when you stop.”
Clothes fell like petals.
Breaths became moans.
Zariah wrapped her legs around Raye’s hips, her back arching as Raye’s mouth moved down her neck, her collarbone, lower
She gasped when their bodies met fully, magic flaring like a burst of gold between their skin. The mark on her chest burned, not in pain in pleasure.
Raye slowed.
Zariah cupped her face. “Don’t hold back. I won’t break.”
Raye kissed her again, and this time there was no hesitation. Only release.
Only flame.
They collapsed on the massive velvet couch hours later, chests rising and falling in time, covered only by the flicker of firelight.
Raye lay on her back, Zariah curled against her, tracing lazy patterns on her stomach.
“Is this allowed?” Zariah whispered.
Raye’s fingers brushed her curls. “No.”
Zariah smiled. “Will we regret it?”
“Maybe. But not tonight.”
Zariah leaned in and kissed her shoulder. “Then I’m not sorry.”
“Neither am I.”
The morning after was not gentle.
A loud knock shattered the silence.
Raye was up instantly, throwing on her pants and a shirt, blades sliding into her boots with muscle memory.
Zariah stayed under the sheets, blinking as a guard burst in, blood dripping from his chin.
“They’ve breached the eastern wall,” he gasped. “The Circle is inside the grounds.”
Raye swore under her breath.
Zariah was already out of bed, reaching for her clothes, her voice sharp.
“Alert the others. Seal the main gates. Activate the runes. I want every fighter in the courtyard now.”
The guard nodded and vanished.
Raye looked at her. “You’re calm.”
Zariah pulled on her shirt. “Because I’ve been waiting for this. They came to end me. Let’s show them what they started.”
The mansion transformed into a battlefield.
Glowing glyphs lit up along the stone walls. Bloom soldiers most former assassins, witches, and strays who owed their lives to the family assembled in the courtyard.
Zariah walked through them like a storm wrapped in silk. Golden armor stitched itself over her skin with a thought. Her eyes glowed with purpose.
Raye stayed at her side, silent, deadly.
When the Obsidian Circle arrived, it was not in stealth.
They marched through the fog cloaked figures in black and grey, with masks of bone and smoke. Their leader stood tall, pale-eyed, wrapped in a coat made of stitched flesh.
Zariah stepped forward.
“You sent murderers. You sent shadows. You killed children. And now you want surrender?”
The leader smiled with teeth too sharp.
“We want your blood. You should’ve stayed hidden, little flower.”
Zariah’s power surged.
“Too late. I’ve bloomed.”
Then she raised her hands and the fight began.
It was war.
Magic clashed against steel. Blood and gold stained the stone.
Raye moved like a ghost slashing, vanishing, striking again. Zariah floated above the battlefield at times, her vines wrapping enemy bodies and crushing them with terrifying grace.
Explosions lit the sky.
Screams echoed through the halls.
Then Zariah saw him the leader.
He had Raye in his grip, magic choking her throat.
Zariah screamed.
She landed hard, power pulsing outward in a golden wave that blasted soldiers off their feet.
The leader turned too late.
Zariah’s hand speared through his chest.
He didn’t get to scream.
She crushed his heart and dropped his body.
Raye fell to her knees.
Zariah ran to her.
“You’re okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
Raye looked up at her, blood in her mouth, eyes fierce.
“You just ended a war.”
Zariah held her close.
“No. We ended it. Together.”
Later, the mansion was quiet again.
The courtyard soaked in rain and ash.
Zariah stood on the balcony, overlooking her broken kingdom.
Raye came behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist.
“You saved them.”
Zariah leaned into her.
“I didn’t know if I could.”
“You did more than that. You gave them something to believe in.”
Zariah turned.
“And what about us? Do we believe in this?”
Raye kissed her gently.
“We believe in what we burn for.”
- Writer
