The creature's growl rumbled through the air, deep and menacing, shaking the very ground beneath them. Its ember-like eyes locked onto Belinda, piercing through her like molten steel.
Callan's grip on his sword tightened, his muscles coiled like a predator ready to strike. "Belinda," he murmured, voice low, controlled. "Stay behind me."
But she didn't move.
Something inside her refused to cower.
The whispers returned, clearer this time, curling through her mind like smoke: You are not prey.
The beast lunged.
Callan reacted instantly, steel flashing in the moonlight. His blade met the creature's claws with a deafening clang, sparks igniting between them. The force sent him skidding back, but he barely faltered before launching forward again, moving with the lethal grace of a warrior born.
Belinda's breath came in sharp gasps, her body thrumming with an unfamiliar energy. Her hands tingled, heat curling in her palms like flames waiting to be unleashed.
The beast turned toward her.
Its eyes narrowed.
It recognized her.
She wasn't sure how, but she felt it, like an unspoken connection binding them across time. And then, the whispers rose into a roar, rushing through her veins with the force of an inferno.
Do not fear the fire. You are the fire.
Belinda lifted her hand.
Heat erupted from her palm, spiraling into existence in the form of golden light. The beast recoiled, snarling, but it wasn't fear that flashed across its glowing eyes.
It was reverence.
Callan turned to her, his silver eyes widening as the light wrapped around her fingers like dancing flames. "Belinda…?"
She barely heard him.
For the first time in her life, she remembered.
Who she was.
What she was.
And why the creature had bowed to her in the flames of a forgotten past.
Because she had commanded it once before.
And she would do so again.