Chapter Ten — Flames Beneath the Skin
997 Words
The heat became unbearable.
Isella's nails dug into her own arms as another wave surged through her body. It felt as though molten light coursed beneath her skin, searching for escape.
She gasped for air.
Every breath came ragged.
Her pulse thundered so violently she thought her heart might burst.
"...Please..."
She didn't know who she was pleading with.
The room blurred around her.
The fireplace.
The bookshelves.
The moon-red light beyond the window.
Everything dissolved into shimmering heat.
Another cry escaped her as she curled tighter upon the floor.
The warmth that had haunted her for weeks had become an inferno.
The doors to her chambers burst open.
"Isella!"
Vaelthar crossed the room in an instant.
He dropped to one knee beside her.
She barely recognised him through tear-filled eyes.
His expression—usually composed, unreadable—had fractured completely.
Concern.
Fear.
Urgency.
He reached for her shoulder.
The instant his hand touched her sleeve, he recoiled.
"...Gods."
Even through the fabric, she burned.
Not with ordinary fever.
Her body radiated a heat greater than the rivers of brimstone flowing beneath his kingdom.
His crimson eyes widened.
Impossible.
No mortal could survive such a temperature.
Yet she still breathed.
Barely.
"Vael..."
His name was scarcely more than a whisper.
"It... hurts..."
"I'm here."
His voice remained steady despite the panic tightening his chest.
"I've got you."
She trembled violently.
"I can't... stop..."
"I know."
He shrugged off his heavy coat and wrapped it around her before attempting to lift her.
The leather hissed faintly where it touched her skin.
He ignored it.
Sliding one arm beneath her knees and another behind her back, he carefully lifted her from the floor.
She cried out in pain as another wave of heat tore through her body.
"I'm sorry."
His words were almost lost beneath her laboured breathing.
"I know."
As he rose, something caught the corner of his eye.
A large book lay half-hidden beside the fireplace, wrapped in dark cloth.
Its edge had come loose, revealing ancient parchment covered in unfamiliar script.
He paused for the briefest heartbeat.
A tome.
Old.
Exceptionally old.
Questions flickered through his mind.
What had she been reading?
Where had she found it?
None of them mattered.
Not now.
He looked away without another thought.
The book could wait.
Isella could not.
The corridors seemed impossibly long.
Servants leapt aside the moment they saw their king carrying the human woman through the palace.
"My Lord!"
"Fetch the royal physician," Vaelthar commanded without slowing.
"And every healer in the castle."
"Immediately."
The servants scattered.
No one had ever heard that tone from their sovereign.
It carried not anger...
But desperation.
He should have taken her to the royal infirmary.
Instead, his feet carried him elsewhere.
His own chambers.
The only place in the palace where no one would enter uninvited.
The doors opened before him.
He laid her gently upon his own bed.
The dark silk sheets were cool against her burning skin, but the relief lasted only moments.
She writhed restlessly, clutching at the blankets.
"It burns..."
"I know."
She clawed weakly at the collar of her dress as though trying to escape the heat trapped beneath it.
Vaelthar gently caught her wrists.
"Easy."
His grip was firm enough to stop her from hurting herself, yet careful not to cause pain.
"You'll only injure yourself."
"I can't..."
Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks.
"It won't stop..."
He looked down.
Only then did he notice the angry red marks already lining her forearms where her nails had broken the skin.
His jaw tightened.
How long had she been suffering before she cried out?
How long had she tried to endure it alone?
The thought twisted painfully within him.
Moments later, the royal physician hurried inside, accompanied by three master healers.
They stopped short upon seeing Isella.
One approached cautiously.
"My Lord..."
He placed trembling fingers near Isella's wrist.
Instantly he snatched them back.
"She's burning."
"I am aware."
"I've never—"
"No."
Vaelthar's voice was calm.
"You haven't."
The healers worked quickly.
Cooling enchantments.
Ancient restorative spells.
Potions distilled from rare abyssal herbs.
One after another.
None had any effect.
The magical frost dissolved before touching her skin.
The potions remained untouched within their crystal vials, unable to influence whatever was happening inside her.
The eldest healer stepped back, visibly shaken.
"My Lord..."
He lowered his head.
"I have no explanation."
Vaelthar did not answer immediately.
His gaze never left Isella.
She had stopped struggling now.
Not because the pain had eased.
Because exhaustion was stealing what little strength remained.
She murmured something unintelligible.
Then, more clearly...
"...Mother..."
His heart sank.
Another name followed.
"...Father..."
Then one word.
Soft enough that only he heard it.
"...Elderstar..."
Vaelthar's eyes narrowed.
The unfamiliar name lingered in the air.
The hidden tome flashed briefly through his thoughts.
A coincidence?
Or the answer to everything?
Again, he forced the question aside.
If the book held answers, it would still hold them tomorrow.
Tonight...
Only one thing mattered.
He dismissed the healers with a quiet gesture.
"Leave us."
"My Lord—"
"Now."
Reluctantly, they obeyed.
The great doors closed behind them, leaving only the crackling fire and Isella's uneven breathing.
Vaelthar pulled a chair beside the bed.
For the first time in centuries, he removed the black gloves that shielded his hands from the world.
Slowly...
Carefully...
He brushed a loose strand of hair away from her damp forehead.
His bare fingertips should have blistered against her impossible heat.
Instead...
The moment he touched her skin, the flames seemed to hesitate.
Only for a heartbeat.
But it was enough for him to notice.
Enough to fill him with a dangerous, fragile hope.
He remained beside her, unwilling to leave even for a moment.
Whatever force had awakened within Isella...
Whatever secret hid behind the name Elderstar...
He swore silently that he would uncover it.
Because the one possibility he refused to accept...
Was losing her.
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