Page 122 of Claim the Light
I don’t want that for my daughter.
Around us, my family gathers. Callan brings Emika to my side. Sophia is now directly opposite me and I don’t miss the joy in her eyes—violet eyes tonight to match her currently-violet fingernails. And Mom, Beatrix, and Isaac all slip off their chairs to join us on the lawn, forming a semi-circle as we wait.
Micah, on the other hand, remains standing and I wish I knew the reason for his tension.
Scarlett’s back is fully exposed to the moonlight and I count the heartbeats as I wait. If it’s going to happen, then it should happen soon.
Theoretically.
The seconds stretch out.
Then she burps. It’s the cutest sound and it makes Emika giggle.
I’m about to shrug and lay Scarlett back down because I guess that’s it, when a shiver passes through her.
Scorching heat suddenly burns across my shoulder, flames bursting into life at the edge of my vision. My own scales shimmer across my skin, protecting me from the heat while my family leaps backward.
My eyes fly wide. “Dragon’s fire!”
I have no idea how to feel about the fact that my daughter can already breathe fire and my thoughts rage thick and fast.
Fuck, how will she control it?
Oh, thank the saints we didn’t remove the fireproofing from inside the house.
But while the others are jumping away from me, Callan is launching himself toward me, his arms outstretched, and the look on his face freezes me.
In the heat of my daughter’s fire, my senses failed to pick up the other sounds behind me.
I spin in the direction of Callan’s focus, and now my reflexes are working at full speed.
As quickly as I can, I pass Scarlett off to Callan. He cradles her safely against his chest and his wings shoot out, creating a wide shield that protects my entire family from the threat that has appeared behind me. Not that my family won’t be ready and able to fight if they need to.
I pluck the golden pin from my hair.
Glaive!
The pin resumes its natural shape in my hand, the blades on my golden spear becoming deadly sharp.
The plume of my daughter’s flame swirls in the space I’m now facing and it’s growing before my eyes, rapidly becoming a whirlwind several paces wide that spirals upward. The growing flames create a force so strong that it knocks me back a step.
I dig in my heels as two figures—a woman and a man—appear in the middle of the firestorm, seemingly protected from the flames by a cocoon of light that emits from the man’s palms.
Instantly, I sense that it’s the man who took control of the flames and increased them.
He rises upward, rolls his shoulders, and closes his fists.
My eyes widen when he appears to suck the flames into his body, absorbing them completely until there’s nothing more than a faint glow in the air. He’s as tall as Callan, his shoulders as broad, and he glows like a cooling ember.
The woman has silver-streaked hair and her eyes gleam like metal. She’s dressed in entirely black clothing, along with knee-high black boots.
She pulls up sharply at the sight of my weapon but greets me as if she knows exactly who I am. “Asper Ashen-Varr, it’s an honor to meet you.”
I’m not so sure I feel the same about them. The man reeks of murder—although it’s faint, as if those acts were committed in the past—and the woman, well, she’s hardly innocent of death.
Before I can reply, Micah appears in the air above Callan, his wings beating briefly before he drops into the space beside me.
His voice is tense. “Ana,” he says, greeting the woman first and then the man. “Aiden.”
