Chapter 1

Prologue NAZEEL DANRAATH – GRAND HEALER OF THE ORDER OF AZEZAL Flames lick at my feet, and heat so intense it blisters my skin engulfs the three of us. Insignius releases a loud sigh and hitches his cloak up while Kameen bares his teeth, a growl rumbling from his throat. With a wave of his hand, Kameen douses the blood-orange fire consuming the trees and plunges us into darkness. I chant a quick incantation that bathes the surrounding area in a soft glow borrowed from the light of the moon. Kameen and Insignius have no problem seeing in the dark, but although witch magic tends to be infinitely more powerful, it requires the intention of the user, unlike the inherent magic of demons and wolves. Insignius rubs at a scorched patch of skin on his hand, and I send a wave of healing energy over us both and survey the scene we were summoned to. I count at least half a dozen charred corpses lying scattered in the nearby woods, not to mention the broken demon at our feet and his human mate dying slowly and quietly behind him, her belly swollen with child. “You dare to summon me?” Kameen asks with a low growl. Jadon pushes himself into a kneeling position, wincing and clutching the wooden spear lodged in his side. He pulls it free and allows the wood to fall from his hand. It rolls to Kameen’s feet, covered in blood. The wound, fatal to most mortals, is not what will kill Jadon. Demons are notoriously quick healers. It is the deep cut on his neck, the one turning his blood to poison in front of our very eyes, which will be his end. The spidery veins around the laceration are already blackened, proof that he has only moments to live. It was an injury made by a blade of rare painite—the only weapon that can kill a demon. “I had to, brother.” Jadon glances at his pregnant mate. “She must live.” “You summoned me to save a human?” Kameen’s voice vibrates through the trees, rumbling the ground beneath our feet. Jadon shakes his head. “The child. She is …” His nostrils flare. “They came for us. For our daughter. They know she’s special. She could be the⁠—” “Who burned them?” Kameen jerks his head at the nearest charred body, his eyes narrowed. “You cannot summon fire, and your human …” His lip curls in disgust. Jadon is a powerful water demon, and him taking a human as his mate is a source of great dishonor to his family. His choice caused his exile. Summoning his brother—the most powerful demon alive—was a huge risk. Jadon could have used his last shred of magic to put out the flames and used any remnants of healing energy to try to save his mate. And maybe he should have. “She did,” Jadon insists. “Our daughter burned them all.” A shiver of lightning ignites my veins. “The child caused the fire from her mother’s womb?” He nods, beseeching me with his eyes, likely trying to appeal to the feminine compassion I cannot help but feel for an unborn child. “You must protect her.” Insignius clears his throat. “You know we cannot intervene.” Jadon tries to stand, but his body is too weakened by the painite, and he stumbles back to the ground. He makes a grab for his older brother’s cloak, his fingers slipping over the thick black material without finding a hold. “Please, Kameen. You know what the prophecies say. She could be the key.” Kameen snorts, but I feel his iron will softening under the pressure of his brother’s dying plea. “Jadon,” the human calls, her voice weak like her body. Her eyes flicker closed, and Death takes her quickly, as though aware He is in the presence of a being so powerful they could bring her back to life with a snap of their fingers. But Kameen would never allow me to so blatantly disobey the ancient laws. Jadon takes his dead mate’s hand in his and looks at his brother once more, his black eyes glistening with an urgent plea. Kameen glances at me, and I lick my lips, tasting the ash in the air. Something in this dark night brought us here—something stronger than Jadon’s summons. A wolf howls close by. With another wave of his hand, Kameen turns the human woman into a flaming pyre. Jadon howls his pain but continues to hold his mate’s hand, allowing the flames to engulf his own body. “What are you doing?” Insignius barks. “You’re going to kill the child.” Kameen responds with a nonchalant shrug. “The child will die anyway now that its mother’s heart has stopped beating. And we are not supposed to interfere.” Insignius rolls his eyes. “Then what do you call this?” The corner of Kameen’s eye twitches. “Call this curiosity.” The sound of a baby’s cry pierces the air. The cry is not one of pain, but rather one of declaration. Goosebumps prickle along my forearms. Once again, Kameen douses the fire with a flick of his wrist, then crouches before the incinerated human corpse and the body of his brother. “Thank you,” Jadon croaks with his dying breath. Kameen closes Jadon’s eyes and bows his head in a rare display of sentiment. “Rest well, brother.” The child’s cries continue to ring out through the night, and Kameen lifts the baby, covered in a thick film of blood and ash, from her mother’s charred womb. Insignius removes his cloak and swaddles her tiny body before pressing her close to his chest. Content now in the wolf’s arms, she blinks up at me with eyes so radiantly blue that they appear otherworldly. I squeeze my lids shut and fumble in the darkness to connect with her new energy. Except it is not new at all. A force like a lightning bolt hits me in my chest, and I stagger back a step. For the child borne of fire and blood … Pressing my lips together, I suppress the squeal of delight that wants to tumble free. “Her energy is old and powerful.” “Do you think she is the one?” Insignius asks. “It matters naught. We cannot interfere,” Kameen warns, his tone stern and commanding. “We already have,” I remind him. He looks down at the baby too, his dark brow furrowed. “She summoned fire from inside her mortal mother’s womb, Kameen.” Insignius’s voice is full of awe, his focus locked on the baby’s face. “And Nazeel sensed …” He looks up at me now, blinking. Pleading. I shrug, aware of Kameen’s eyes on me. It is too soon to allow my mind to run away with itself. How many times over the last millennia have I allowed myself to believe, only to have my hopes dashed? “I sense an old power in her, but she is a descendant of Azezal himself. Perhaps it is nothing more than the echoes of the ancient bloodline.” “She needs to be protected,” Insignius insists. “We won’t interfere in her life, but now that we know she exists—who she could be …” Kameen snorts. “She could be nothing more than a powerful witch.” “The most powerful witch I have seen for centuries,” I say, peering down at her as she gazes up at the three of us. “She sensed she was in danger and summoned fire to protect herself. Before she was even born.” I trace a fingertip over her tiny nose and she blinks. Insignius looks to our leader for guidance. “We have to take action. There is no telling what damage she might cause without her father to guide her.” Kameen trains his eyes on me. “Then bind her powers.” I open my mouth and close it again. Finding my backbone, I shake my head. “That’s barbaric.” His face contorts in a deep scowl. “More barbaric than having her burn her entire kindergarten class alive when she throws a temper tantrum?” I shake my head. “Kindergarten? You intend for her to be raised with humans?” “If there is any chance that she is who you both think she is, this child is already in great danger. These creatures …” He glances around at the scorched remains of the attackers and sniffs the air, determining their origin. “These vampires already killed her parents because of her power. Regardless of who she is—or who she will be—she is a powerful being. Without her parents’ protection, the safest place for her is with the mortals.” My heart breaks for the tiny babe. “But we could⁠—” Kameen’s lips curl back, his teeth bared as he edges closer to me. The fire of his rage burns through my veins. Forever bonded to him, I cannot keep him out no matter how gifted a witch I am. “We could what, Nazeel? Raise her in the Order?” I tip my chin in defiance. “Why not?” He grabs my jaw in his strong hand, squeezing tightly enough to make me wince. “We. Do. Not. Interfere.” “Says who?” I bite back. “Says I.” Even if she is not the child from the prophecy, she is your niece! You are so stubborn, you refuse to even consider change, even for⁠— Do not, Nazeel! Insignius sighs, aware Kameen and I are speaking through our bond. It is impolite, but I would never challenge Kameen openly. His position could not allow it. I wrench my jaw from his grip. “We could find a witch family to take her in. Teach her how to control her power.” “And put them in danger too? Could you live with that, my caring little witch?” he says, his eyes narrowed. Stop mocking me! Then stop pushing me, my sweet. I despise you. He laughs. We shall see about that when I have you in my bed tonight. He conjures a memory that has heat burning my cheeks and between my thighs. “She might not be a witch.” Insignius cuts through my internal debate with Kameen, and I am thankful for the distraction. Kameen turns his fierce glare on his most trusted general. “Humans cannot give birth to demons. Only witches.” The nearby wolf howls again, and Insignius cocks his head, his face a mask of concentration. “He is waiting for us to leave so he can feast on the carcasses.” I nudge my friend in the arm. “What kind of creature do you think she could be?” He arches a thick eyebrow at me. “You already know, Nazeel.” My heart hammers against my ribcage. The implication is preposterous. Kameen shakes his head. “Impossible.” Insignius puts his hand on Kameen’s shoulder. “You, of all creatures, know that nothing is impossible, old friend.” Of course, Insignius speaks the truth. Each of us has lived long enough to witness the impossible before. But this child … She could be more than impossible. She could be the one we have all been waiting for. Chapter 1 OPHELIA - 19 YEARS LATER Rolling back my shoulders, I swallow down my apprehension and force myself to approach the table of girls closest to me. One of them steps forward, her plaid skirt bouncing against her thighs and her white tank complimenting her golden tan. A shy smile flickers across my face when I realize we’re dressed almost identically. Maybe I will fit in here after all. She doesn’t smile back. Instead, she regards me with what seems like curiosity. “Do you play field hockey?” “No.” I shake my head, looking over her shoulder at the group of girls at the table behind her. “But I could try.” She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head. “I mean, you’ve got the build, but we’re regional champs. We need players with experience. Sorry, Pink.” She winks at me before brushing past and approaching a girl a few feet behind me. I have the build? Was that her way of saying I’m chunky? No. This isn’t high school, Ophelia. Even if a significant enough portion of people from my old high school also attend this college to ensure I will never forget my place, there are thousands of students on this campus. I shake off my disappointment at not being able to try out for the field hockey team. It’s entirely unfounded to feel such rejection over a sport I’ve never played before—one I’ve never had the slightest interest in. I’ve spent the past week on campus keeping to myself and gearing up for today’s activity and club fair, and I am not going to leave until I find something I want to do. With my head held high and a smile on my face, I carry on down one of the paths that splits Gaea’s Green, affectionately known as the quad, into four sections. Today’s the first day of the fall semester, and each path is lined with tables showcasing the various groups and societies at Montridge University. Unlike most colleges, Montridge doesn’t have sororities or fraternities. Instead, it has twelve societies which, according to the brochure I was sent with my acceptance letter, have been around since the school was founded in 1672. Given that it’s the second oldest college in the country, the exclusive societies are some of the most prestigious and elite groups in the country. And that’s why I haven’t bothered applying for any. Plenty of famous—and infamous—individuals have attended this school. Wandering through the society stands, I notice that the four Vale societies, each named after a precious metal, seem the most welcoming, with their balloons and cupcakes and smiley members with glittery face paint. “Hey, girl with the pink hair. C’mere,” someone shouts. I’m the only person in the vicinity who fits that description. The girl who called for me reminds me so much of my high school bully that I almost lose the burrito I had for lunch. Impossibly beautiful, model tall, honey-blond hair pulled into a pristine ponytail. Perfect white teeth and button nose. Tanned skin. The list goes on. “C’mere,” she shouts again, this time waving me over to the Silver Vale table. I glance around again, still hoping she’s not talking to me, but she most definitely is. And now it’s too late to pretend I don’t see her. I mutter a curse and roll my shoulders back, prepared for whatever it is she’s about to throw at me. She’s smiling when I reach her, but I can’t tell if it’s because my appearance amuses her for some reason or if she’s being genuinely nice. Experience tells me it’s the former, but the positive outlook I’m working to cultivate reminds me to reserve judgment. “Hi,” I say, my voice annoyingly little more than a squeak. She tosses her ponytail over her shoulder. “What are you doing here?” “E-excuse me?” She rolls her eyes. “What are you doing? Are you hoping for a pledge invitation? Join the soccer team? What?” Rudeness or curiosity? Hard to tell. Her tone is friendly enough, but girls like her aren’t usually friendly to me. “Hey, Meg. Have you seen who’s hanging out at the Ruby Dragon table?” Another girl, equally gorgeous but with dark curly hair, links her arm through Meg’s. Meg cranes her neck, peering over the crowd. A second later, she sinks her teeth into her lip and groans. I turn to see what she and her friend are looking at, but I’m too short to see over the crowd. I’ve heard whispers of the Ruby Dragon Society, and based on my research, that was the home of some of the most notorious Montridge graduates. They boast such alumni as the current director of the CIA, along with the biggest drug lord in Colombia. “They are so fine,” Meg says with a sultry sigh. “Such a shame, huh?” I’m about to ask what she means when the crowd parts and I finally see the objects of their attention. My mouth drops open unbidden. Shirtless and tanned, basking in the heat of the afternoon sun, three demigods stand among a throng of mortals. All rippling biceps, chiseled abs, and strong jawlines. “Who are they?” My voice comes out even quieter than before. “The commanders of Ruby Dragon,” Meg says. “They’re hot, right?” “I guess.” “Stay away from them, new girl,” she warns, and when I drag my attention back to her, she’s glaring at me. I snort a laugh. Does she seriously think I’m any kind of competition? Her eyes narrow. “I mean it.” I hold my hands up. “I’ll stay away.” The girl with the curly hair looks me up and down. “Are you hoping to pledge?” I blink at her. I never considered pledging one of the societies. I’m not a group activity kind of person. Not through personal choice … I just seem to have trouble fitting in. I’m only here today because I promised my advisor—and myself—I’d check out the clubs rather than sit alone in my dorm all day, reading. “I d-don’t think so.” Meg scrunches up her nose and studies me like I’m an unknown specimen. “You’re different.” Yeah, been made to feel that my whole damn life. Before the words can escape, I press my lips together, staying silent. Experience has also taught me not to provoke the popular girls. Don’t want to make any enemies on my first day. Memories of my high school experience flash through my mind, and my stomach rolls. I press my hand to my damp forehead. I need to get away from here. Away from the scrutiny of these two popular mean girls who no doubt only called me over here for their own amusement. “I h-have to go,” I blurt. Not giving them the opportunity to respond, I turn and dart off through the crowd. Hurrying past the remaining tables, I head straight for the safety of my dorm room.