Burning point
855 Words
Kissing Raye was like stepping off a ledge terrifying, electric, and impossible to take back.
Zariah had kissed before. But this wasn’t sweet or slow. It was heat. Messy. Starved. And real.
Her fingers slid into Raye’s braid as their mouths collided again, harder this time. Raye’s hands gripped Zariah’s waist with a kind of desperate control, like if she didn’t hold her still, the world would spin off its axis.
Zariah didn’t care. Let it spin.
She pressed in, deeper, until there was no space between them only pulse and breath and the ache they’d been denying for far too long.
Then, too soon, Raye pulled back.
Zariah’s lips tingled. “Why’d you stop?”
Raye’s eyes were dark. Hungry. Torn.
“Because if I don’t, I won’t stop at all.”
Zariah stepped forward. “Maybe I don’t want you to.”
Raye’s jaw clenched. Her gaze flicked to Zariah’s chest, where the golden mark still pulsed faintly through her shirt.
“It’s not just desire,” she said. “This... you... You’re the center of something massive. Bigger than both of us. I can’t lose focus.”
Zariah’s expression softened. “Then let me be the reason you stay focused. Not the reason you’re afraid.”
Raye stared at her like she was made of fire and moonlight.
Then she kissed her again.
Slower this time. Surer.
And it wasn’t just hunger now. It was something breaking open. Something blooming.
The next morning, neither of them spoke about it.
They trained like usual. Ate in silence. Moved like everything was normal.
Except it wasn’t.
Every glance was loaded. Every accidental touch lingered. Every silence buzzed with the memory of their mouths and the promise of more.
Zariah didn’t know what to do with it.
So she fought harder.
She mastered double-layer shields. She learned how to compress her bloom energy into strikes that cut like blades. She even began sensing magic in others like a radar sharpening.
And still, the city grew darker.
More attacks came. Shadow figures in alleys. Poisoned letters. Tracking spells embedded in ravens. Someone or something wanted her gone.
Each night, Raye grew more restless. She patrolled longer. Slept less. Sometimes didn’t sleep at all.
Zariah began waking alone.
On the ninth night, Zariah climbed to the top of the old bell tower the highest point on the mansion grounds.
She found Raye there, crouched at the edge, watching the fog-choked city below.
“You always disappear after we get close,” Zariah said.
Raye didn’t look at her. “I never promised you forever.”
Zariah walked closer. “But you kissed me like you meant it.”
“I did.”
“Then don’t act like it was a mistake.”
Raye stood. Turned.
Her eyes were tired. Her jaw tense. But her voice was honest.
“It wasn’t a mistake. It was the only real thing I’ve done in years. And that’s why it terrifies me.”
Zariah stepped right in front of her.
“You’re not the only one afraid. But I’m here. I’m still choosing this. Choosing you. Doesn’t that matter?”
Raye didn’t speak.
Instead, she reached for her hand.
Held it.
And for the first time in days, Zariah felt still.
The next day, the Circle sent a messenger.
Not a soldier.
A girl.
Barely seventeen. Hands shaking. A bloom-shaped scar carved into her arm.
She dropped to her knees at the mansion gates and said one sentence:
“He wants the blood heir to surrender before the city burns.”
Then her heart stopped in her chest magically crushed before she could say more.
Zariah watched it all. Stone-faced.
“They’re done sending warnings,” she said.
Raye’s fists clenched. “They want war.”
Zariah nodded. “Then we give them one.”
That night, the mansion shifted.
Hallways reformed. Hidden chambers revealed themselves. The estate was alive responding to Zariah’s command. She walked through it like a queen claiming her broken kingdom.
And Raye followed.
They stood in the war room maps glowing, names scribbled in blood ink, family sigils long dead now revived under her hand.
Zariah looked at Raye.
“I want to know everything. Every alliance. Every ghost. Every weapon. We’re done waiting.”
Raye nodded slowly. “Then you’re ready to be who they fear.”
“Not fear,” Zariah said. “Respect.”
Hours later, when the planning was over, they returned to the rooftop garden now lit by floating candles and golden vines that bloomed when Zariah passed.
She leaned on the rail. Raye stood beside her.
“If we win,” Zariah asked, “what then?”
Raye looked at her. “Then we build something new.”
“Together?”
“If you’ll have me.”
Zariah turned.
“You kissed me like I already did.”
Raye stepped closer. Their hands brushed.
“And if I kissed you again?”
Zariah smiled. “Then I’d finally get to stop wondering how far we can fall.”
Raye kissed her again.
And this time, neither of them pulled away.
- Writer
