Page 16

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the clearing. Nataly stood in the center, her eyes closed, focusing on the warmth that simmered beneath her skin. Beside her, MacKay watched with an encouraging smile, although there had been something worried behind his eyes all day. It was probably just the fact that she'd lit the bed, the coffee maker, and his shoes on fire practicing her new fire witchy skills today.

“Feel the fire within you, love. It's a part of you, as much as your breath or your heartbeat.” MacKay's voice was calm and steady, and that more than just about anything helped keep her from getting frustrated.

Nataly nodded, concentrating. She imagined the fire as a living entity inside her, pulsing and alive. She extended her hand, palm up, willing a small flame to dance upon her skin. A flicker of warmth tickled her palm, and then, with a whoosh, a small flame spiraled into existence.

“Yes, that's it, Nat.” MacKay clapped, his excitement palpable.

She couldn't help but grin watching the flame twirl and dance. It was both thrilling and terrifying to have this kind of power at her fingertips.

“Try to control it, shape it, make it do your will.” MacKay's guidance had already helped her harness this incredible new power, but she was nowhere near being able to effectively use it.

Nataly focused, attempting to manipulate the fire, to make it grow, to move it. She wanted to be able to shoot fire right at those dang weird batstriches. Her mate...she really liked calling him that...had said they were likely going to come back.

“Focus on the flame, not just as an element, but as an extension of yourself, your spirit,” MacKay instructed, nodding to her with encouragement written all over his face.

Nataly closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath, envisioning the fire that simmered within her core. She reached inward, to that place where fear and excitement coalesced, and coaxed the flame to life.

When she opened her palms, that same dancing flame appeared, its light flickering against the twilight. Now to coax it to her command. “Let's be friends, little flame. I know we haven't always been, but I didn't know you then.”

MacKay's chuckle of approval was warm and encouraging. She smiled back at him and then willed that little flame to do her bidding. It grew in her hand until it was as tall as the trees. And then she made it dance like a popstar.

“There you are, love. Now that you're friends with the fire, you can do anything,” he said, his eyes sparkling with pride.

Nataly couldn’t suppress her grin. The control she had over the flame was exhilarating. It twisted and twirled at her command, growing brighter under her focused gaze.

“Now, let’s try moving it,” MacKay suggested. “Imagine it traveling, changing shape.”

Concentrating, Nataly envisioned the flame stretching, moving from one hand to the other. The fire obeyed, creating a bright arc of light between her palms.

They continued practicing, Nataly growing more confident with each success. The connection to her fire felt like discovering a new sense, a powerful and intimate bond.

As they were absorbed in the training, the atmosphere began to shift subtly. The air grew cooler, the gentle evening breeze turning sharper, more insistent. The sky, a canvas of soft twilight blues and pinks, darkened rapidly, as if the night was rushing to engulf them.

Nataly felt a prickling sensation on the back of her neck. “MacKay, do you feel that?” she asked, her voice tinged with unease.

MacKay’s expression turned serious as he scanned their surroundings. “Something’s not right,” he murmured. “Stay alert.”

Before they could react further, a guttural roar shattered the peace of the clearing. Nataly whirled around, her heart pounding, as the shadows around them seemed to come alive. Red eyes glowed ominously as a swarm of demon wyrms emerged, their grotesque forms materializing from the darkness.

MacKay immediately shifted into his dragon form, a breathtaking display of light and power. Nataly, her heart racing, attempted to summon her fire, but the shock and fear scattered her focus.

Had she been so absorbed in her practice that she didn't notice the sky darkening unnaturally fast or the cold wind that began to whisper through the trees? Guess not, because this was more than the mercurial Colorado weather.

Suddenly a screech shattered the tranquility of the evening. Nataly's hands snapped open, the flames flickering to life. Her heart raced as she scanned the surroundings.

“MacKay, there and there,” she called out just as a swarm of demon wyrms erupted from the shadows around her house and in the trees, their red eyes glowing malevolently.

MacKay stepped protectively in front of her, and the air filled with the sounds of battle, the clash of talons against leathery wings, the screeches of the wyrms, and the fierce roars of the dragon.

Nataly's mind was fritzing, and she tried to summon her fire, but the shock and fear muddled her focus. She watched in horror as the wyrms converged on MacKay, overwhelming him with their sheer numbers.

“MacKay!” she screamed, her voice lost in the chaos.

For a moment, it seemed as if he was winning, his flames scorching the wyrms. But then one of the creatures lunged, sinking its claws into MacKay's side. He let out a pained roar, and as he faltered, the wyrms swarmed over him.

Nataly's heart stopped. “No, no, no...” she whispered, her eyes wide with horror.

Before she could move, horrible, creepy, scaly arms grabbed her from behind, pulling her into the darkness. She fought, kicking and screaming, but her captor's grip was unyielding. As she was dragged away, her last glimpse was of the clearing, now eerily silent, with no sign of MacKay.