Chapter 6 The Bloom before the Burn

The scent of jasmine lingered in the air, soft and calming, like the first breath of spring after a cruel winter. Seraphina always surrounded herself with that scent, it reminded her of safety. Of simplicity. Of a time before her dreams were haunted by fire and ruin.

The glass conservatory glowed under the morning sun, vines curling along the golden arches as if trying to protect her from the world outside. Birds sang. The sky was soft and cloudless.

And yet inside Seraphina... something stirred.

Something wrong.

She pressed her hand to her chest and exhaled shakily, trying to steady the tremble in her fingers.

"Are you alright?" came a voice, silken and honey-sweet.

Seraphina turned.

Her best friend stood by the crystal doorway -Isolde. A vision of beauty with hair like ink and eyes like crushed velvet. Always poised. Always watching. She was the one who had held Seraphina through her night terrors, braided her hair with wildflowers, whispered dreams of freedom and power.

But Seraphina never saw the flicker of jealousy that lingered in Isolde's gaze.

Never saw the way her smile never reached her eyes.

"I'm fine," Seraphina said, voice gentle. "Just... another dream."

Isolde walked closer, her dress sweeping the floor like shadows in motion. "The same dream?"

Seraphina nodded slowly, sinking onto the cushioned bench beside the marble fountain. Her fingers traced the edge of her teacup as the jasmine-steeped water shimmered under her touch.

"It always starts the same," she whispered. "I'm standing in a field of white flowers. The wind is whispering my name. But then everything turns black. The flowers catch fire. And I see... him."

"Him?" Isolde asked carefully.

"I don't know who he is." Seraphina's cheeks flushed. "But he's watching me. Eyes like gold, dark hair, a scar over his brow. He says my name like it belongs to him."

Kael.

Though she didn't know it yet.

Isolde's smile faltered, barely.

She masked it quickly. "A soulmate, perhaps. A witch of your strength is destined for a powerful mate."

Seraphina shook her head, clutching the cup tighter. "I don't want power. I want peace. I want to garden and make perfumes and...." Her voice broke. "And not feel like I'm breaking every time I breathe."

"You're not breaking," Isolde cooed, kneeling beside her. "You're becoming."

Seraphina met her gaze, and for a second, just a flicker, there was something strange behind her friend's eyes.

A flash of darkness.

Seraphina blinked, and it was gone.

"Come," Isolde said, rising with a fluid grace. "Morgana is waiting."

***

The Ritual Chamber

Seraphina stood barefoot in the center of a rune circle etched into obsidian floors. Magic pulsed beneath her feet, and the air buzzed with ancient power. Candles floated midair, casting long shadows along the black walls.

High Priestess Morgana entered like a storm wrapped in silk. Her robes shimmered with blood-red threads, her eyes sharp as blades.

She studied Seraphina silently, then said, "You've been dreaming."

"Yes," Seraphina replied, lowering her gaze.

"The dreams are not just visions. They are warnings." Morgana circled her like a predator. "Your power is waking faster than your mind can handle. You were not meant to be caged in the softness you cling to."

Seraphina's lips parted. "But I don't want......."

"........To be a weapon?" Morgana interrupted. "It doesn't matter what you want. The gods chose you. The chaos inside you is a gift. You must master it before it consumes you."

Seraphina's heart thundered.

The air grew heavy.

Morgana extended a hand. "Touch me."

Seraphina hesitated, then reached forward.

The moment their skin met the room exploded in light.

Flames surged from the candles, swirling in a vortex of violet and crimson. The rune circle glowed blindingly bright as magic shot through Seraphina's veins like lightning. She screamed, collapsing to her knees as her back arched, and a wave of energy exploded from her body, shattering half the chamber's windows.

Isolde barely flinched.

Morgana smiled, dark and pleased.

"Yes," she whispered. "She's ready."

Seraphina gasped, trembling, her hands crackling with magic. Her skin glowed faintly, veins lit with threads of gold.

"What's happening to me?" she cried, tears brimming in her eyes. "Why can't I control it?"

Morgana knelt before her, cupping her face. "Because you were never meant to. You are not here to suppress your power, Seraphina. You are here to unleash it."

"But I'm not like the others," she whispered.

Morgana's smile widened. "Exactly."

***

Later That Night: Seraphina's Chambers

She sat alone in her room, wrapped in silk robes, staring at her palms. They still shimmered faintly, like moonlight lived inside her.

She didn't feel like herself anymore.

Everything was shifting her thoughts, her body, her soul.

There was something alive inside her now. Something ancient.

A force she didn't understand.

A future she hadn't chosen.

Mate.

The word had begun echoing in her dreams. A golden-eyed man. A growl. A whisper in the dark.

She didn't know his name, but she felt him.

Like her soul was waiting for him to find her.

But what if he's a monster?

Her breath caught.

From the shadows, Isolde watched through the mirror's reflection, her own hands glowing with hidden magic.

She smirked.

"She'll never see it coming," Isolde whispered to herself. "Let her bloom for him. Let her heart soften. It'll only make the fall sweeter."

And with that, she vanished.