Valkhara
The chamber was nothing like the arena.
It didn't bleed. It didn't echo. It whispered.
A stone table dominated the center of the space, long, dark, carved with old runes that pulsed with soft red light. Seven chairs sat around it. One for each faction. One for each survivor.
Only five of us remained.
And not all of us would leave.
Above us, behind walls of enchanted glass, the Council watched.
I didn't look up.
I didn't need to.
Let them stare. Let them whisper.
Let them feel what was coming.
"Lady Valkhara," one of the guards said flatly, gesturing to a chair near the table. "Take your seat."
I did not move.
He blinked. "It's mandatory—"
I took two steps forward, then stood behind the chair. Not sitting. Not bending. Not playing.
Let them notice.
The other contestants filtered in slowly.
One male from the southern bloodline tall, broad, proud. I'd seen him gut a chimera like it was made of paper.
One witch-born woman from the dusk provinces sharp eyes, silent lips.
One vampire, full-blooded, eyes black as oil. He didn't look at me. That was smart.
And the last? A shapeshifter with blood-dyed hair and too many scars to be anything but dangerous.
They all sat.
I remained standing.
The head councilor's voice rang out through the magic veil.
"You are to negotiate leadership. Form one alliance. One leader. If you fail, you will all be eliminated."
My hands flexed at my sides.
That was the game, then.
Not survival.
Submission.
One of the males—Drekh, I think—cleared his throat. "I think we should discuss this civilly—"
"No," the witch said flatly. "We should vote."
The vampire scoffed. "Why vote when we all know who's being watched?"
Eyes shifted to me.
I said nothing.
Drekh frowned. "Valkhara, would you consider—"
Still, I said nothing.
Something inside me was humming. Heating. Stretching.
The chamber grew colder.
They all noticed it.
I let it stretch, it was like my body recognized this place and knew exactly what needed to be done.
"You're going to have to speak eventually," the shifter said, resting her feet on the table.
No.
I wasn't.
Because that was the mistake the Council made.
They thought I'd lead with words.
But I was Emberborne, and I led with fire.
Let your voice speak, they'd said.
But what they didn't understand—
Was that my magic had a voice of its own.
And right now?
It was rising.
The blood in my veins pulsed harder. The bond with Sevrin and Azric crackled faintly at the edges of my senses, but then… something else.
A flicker.
A whisper.
You don't have to say a word, flameheart.
I inhaled sharply. The whisper came from deep in my mind not Azric. Not Sevrin.
Something older. Bound. Struggling.
My throat tightened.
They already know who you are. Show them.
What or who ever that was was all I needed to hear...
The air shimmered around me.
My body stayed still. But the magic?
It moved.
A ripple of heat spread from my skin outward, barely visible, but felt. The others froze. One by one.
Even the vampire's lips parted slightly, brows furrowing.
"You feel that?" the witch murmured.
The shapeshifter's cocky smile faltered, and soon he got up and charged at me... without a second thought I turned all the magic i was letting out go to him.. Instead of spreading out... and right as he lunged mouth wide and full of canines my magic him it... and he combusted.. blood and body parts everywhere.
They all sat in stunned silence as the remains of the shapeshifter slide down their faces...
"It's coming from her," Drekh whispered.
"No fucking shit" said the witch..
I lifted my chin, eyes locked on the table still not saying a damn word.
The runes began to glow brighter.
My magic answered.
Not with force.
With truth.
It wrapped around them like smoke. Not choking. Not painful.
Just undeniable.
I didn't command them.
They wanted to follow.
Their heads dropped slightly, involuntarily. Their bodies leaned forward. Even the vampire's shoulders twitched like he wanted to kneel.
No words.
Just power.
The Flame That Walked Out.
Let them crown me without knowing why.
Let the Council watch me burn without ever hearing me scream.
The silence roared.
And when the Council finally called time...
everyone that was still alive stood.
And without a single vote cast or hand raised, they turned to face me.
One by one, they bowed.
The Council didn't speak.
Couldn't.
Because the chamber had already chosen.
And so had they.
Back in the suite, I ripped the leather harness from my arms and let it fall to the floor.
Azric was waiting by the fire. Sevrin stood with his back to the room, blade pressed to a whetstone he wasn't even using.
I didn't speak.
I didn't need to.
Azric's eyes narrowed. "You didn't say anything, did you?"
I dropped into the nearest chair. "Nope."
"And they chose you anyway."
"They felt me."
Sevrin turned around slowly, something dark in his expression. "That wasn't just your power."
My mouth went dry. "I know."
"Something else pushed it."
I hesitated. "I heard a voice."
Both of them froze.
Azric crossed to me, fast, crouching in front of the chair. "Who?"
"I don't know," I said. "But it wasn't either of you."
"You're sure?"
I nodded.
Sevrin's fists clenched.
"Could be the third," Azric muttered.
"I think…" I swallowed hard. "I think he's trying to help me. Even from wherever he is."
Sevrin's jaw flexed. "Or manipulate you."
"Maybe," I said. "But it didn't feel like a trap."
Azric stood. "Then we need to find out where he is. And why he hasn't shown himself."
Nyra's voice cut in from the doorway. "I have a theory."
We all turned.
She leaned casually against the wall, sipping something out of a black glass vial.
"Eavesdropping is rude," Sevrin growled.
"And yet you're still glad I was," she winked. "Because I've been looking into the Emberborn records. And there's one account—just one of a triad bond where the third mate was a Council member."
I blinked. "Wait… what?"
"Yep," she said, sliding into a chair. "Long time ago. Buried in lore. But it happened. And the Council hated it. Said it 'disrupted balance.'"
Azric cursed under his breath.
Sevrin looked at me. "They locked him away."
Nyra shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time they buried their own to avoid losing power."
"So he's alive," I whispered. "He's just… trapped."
"And the more bonded you get to these two," she nodded toward my mates, "the more that final string pulls. It's why you're feeling it now."
I went cold.
Because if that was true?
Then the Council hadn't just hidden him from me.
They'd enslaved one of their own.
And my bond?
Was about to blow their entire throne apart.