Lucian's body staggered, barely able to withstand the force radiating from Olivia. The heat that surged through the air wasn't just fire—it was grief, rage, and something else entirely.
The flames lashed out like a wild storm, tearing into the trees and sky. His arms burned, his lungs stung, but still he pushed forward, step by painful step. He had to reach her. He had to bring her back before she completely lost herself.
"Olivia," he called again, his voice strained, swallowed by the crackling sound of fire.
He got no response.
She was at the center of it all—kneeling, trembling, unmoving. Her hair danced like embers, and her eyes were empty. Luke's body rested before her, untouched by the flames, yet the world around him burned with rage.
Lucian's foot slipped, the heat searing his boot, but he didn't stop.
"Come back to me…" he whispered, he could feel his strength faltering like a candlestick in front of the wind, "Please."
