The Thirteenth Ember - Chapter 36: Chapter 36
You are reading The Thirteenth Ember, Chapter 36: Chapter 36. Read more chapters of The Thirteenth Ember.
The smoke from Citadel Virel hadn’t settled before the rumors began to fly.
Some called it divine punishment.
Others retribution.
But among the Flameborn, one truth burned louder than the rest:
“She’s real.”
“She’s one of us.”
“She lit the sky.”
Across the outer cities, emberbrands began to vanish villagers scraping them off with bone
and blade, refusing the Court’s claim.
Small fires burned in alleyways, not in anger, but in mourning for lost names, for silenced generations, for the lie they had swallowed too long.
Aeryn watched it unfold from the broken ramparts of the old Citadel.
The rebellion was spreading.
But it wasn’t following.
Kael joined her that night beneath the fractured sigil of the High Warden’s hall.
His hands were streaked with ash, his jaw set hard.
“They’re fighting back already,” he said quietly.
Torch raids on villages we haven’t even reached yet.”
“They’re afraid.”
“They should be.”
She looked at him really looked.
The exhaustion in his shoulders. The quiet hurt in his eyes.
And how the flame at his fingertips never really stopped moving now.
Like it knew what was coming.
Later, when the others slept or stood watch, Kael and Aeryn slipped away to the northern tower the only one still mostly intact.
No one followed.
For once… the fire gave them room.
Inside, the wind slipped through a shattered window, cold and sweet against Aeryn’s skin.
She turned to him.
“I don’t know how to stop it,” she whispered. “It’s like… the truth was a match. And now we’re standing in a forest made of dry kindling.”
Kael didn’t answer right away.
He stepped close. Lifted her hand. Pressed his fingers to the pulse in her wrist.
“You don’t have to stop it,” he said. “Just hold the line between burning and becoming.”
She exhaled.
And when she looked at him again, something
gave.
Not her resolve.
But the part of her that had held its breath since Emberroot.
The kiss wasn’t soft.
It was heat raw, slow, unrelenting.
Kael’s hands tangled in her hair. Aeryn pressed him against the tower wall, her flame flaring, silencing the cold.
They didn’t speak.
Because nothing they could say mattered more than the want.
Not lust.
Need.
To feel.
To remember what they were fighting to keep.
Each other.
Later, wrapped in silence and warmth, Aeryn lay with her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat behind his ribs.
“You still think I’m the match?” she murmured.
“No,” Kael said, brushing hair from her cheek. “You’re the fire. I’m just the one crazy enough to hold you.”
She smiled.
Eyes closed.
And for a few hours just a few the world
stopped trying to end.
Some called it divine punishment.
Others retribution.
But among the Flameborn, one truth burned louder than the rest:
“She’s real.”
“She’s one of us.”
“She lit the sky.”
Across the outer cities, emberbrands began to vanish villagers scraping them off with bone
and blade, refusing the Court’s claim.
Small fires burned in alleyways, not in anger, but in mourning for lost names, for silenced generations, for the lie they had swallowed too long.
Aeryn watched it unfold from the broken ramparts of the old Citadel.
The rebellion was spreading.
But it wasn’t following.
Kael joined her that night beneath the fractured sigil of the High Warden’s hall.
His hands were streaked with ash, his jaw set hard.
“They’re fighting back already,” he said quietly.
Torch raids on villages we haven’t even reached yet.”
“They’re afraid.”
“They should be.”
She looked at him really looked.
The exhaustion in his shoulders. The quiet hurt in his eyes.
And how the flame at his fingertips never really stopped moving now.
Like it knew what was coming.
Later, when the others slept or stood watch, Kael and Aeryn slipped away to the northern tower the only one still mostly intact.
No one followed.
For once… the fire gave them room.
Inside, the wind slipped through a shattered window, cold and sweet against Aeryn’s skin.
She turned to him.
“I don’t know how to stop it,” she whispered. “It’s like… the truth was a match. And now we’re standing in a forest made of dry kindling.”
Kael didn’t answer right away.
He stepped close. Lifted her hand. Pressed his fingers to the pulse in her wrist.
“You don’t have to stop it,” he said. “Just hold the line between burning and becoming.”
She exhaled.
And when she looked at him again, something
gave.
Not her resolve.
But the part of her that had held its breath since Emberroot.
The kiss wasn’t soft.
It was heat raw, slow, unrelenting.
Kael’s hands tangled in her hair. Aeryn pressed him against the tower wall, her flame flaring, silencing the cold.
They didn’t speak.
Because nothing they could say mattered more than the want.
Not lust.
Need.
To feel.
To remember what they were fighting to keep.
Each other.
Later, wrapped in silence and warmth, Aeryn lay with her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat behind his ribs.
“You still think I’m the match?” she murmured.
“No,” Kael said, brushing hair from her cheek. “You’re the fire. I’m just the one crazy enough to hold you.”
She smiled.
Eyes closed.
And for a few hours just a few the world
stopped trying to end.
End of The Thirteenth Ember Chapter 36. Continue reading Chapter 37 or return to The Thirteenth Ember book page.