Chapter 1 Branded by Fire

The chains bit into Kiera's wrists, iron glowing faintly with magic. Her knees ached against the cold marble floor of the Oath Circle, but she refused to bow her head.

Let them look her in the eyes when they sentenced her.

High Oathkeeper Mael stepped forward, his crimson robes whispering with each slow step. "Kiera Varyn of the Seventh Flame, you stand accused of breaking your sworn oath: to protect the innocent above all else."

"I didn't break it," she said. Her voice was hoarse, but steady. "The village was already burning when I arrived. It was-"

"You abandoned your post," Mael interrupted coldly. "And thirty-seven lives were lost."

The Circle of Elders murmured behind him. Judging. Whispering. Some avoided her gaze. Others stared like they were watching a dead woman breathe.

She didn't see them.

She only saw the flame.

It danced inside the Judgment Chalice, fed by her own oathmark-the swirling rune still burned across her chest. If it flared blue, she was innocent. If it turned red...

She'd die.

Kiera clenched her fists. "The reports were forged. Someone-"

"Silence." Mael raised a hand. "Your truth will speak for you."

He dipped a silver blade into the Chalice and turned it toward her. The flame twisted as if alive, reaching.

Magic surged toward her chest, ripping heat through her veins. Her breath caught-her body locking under invisible pressure.

She screamed as the Oathfire found her mark.

Pain. Not from fire, but from betrayal.

Kiera's vision blurred. A single thought echoed: This is wrong.

She had held her vow. She had fought for them. She had bled for this kingdom.

Why wasn't the flame blue?

The fire roared red.

The sentence was clear.

Mael's voice rang like a hammer striking steel. "You are found guilty. The sentence is death by Oathfire."

Chains tightened. Guards stepped forward.

Kiera shut her eyes.

And then - a thunderclap.

The doors to the Oath Hall exploded inward. Smoke and magic filled the chamber. Gasps, shouting, steel unsheathed.

A figure emerged through the haze - tall, hooded, sword in hand.

"Get away from her," the stranger growled.

In the chaos, Kiera felt the chains fall away. A blade sliced her bindings clean. She turned, dazed, and met the eyes of her savior.

Eyes she knew.

Eyes she hated.

Caelen Dareth.

The fallen prince. The Oathbreaker. The traitor who vanished five years ago after burning the capital gates.

"You?" she rasped. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He grinned, maddeningly calm. "Saving your life. You're welcome."

"You're a traitor."

"So are you now." He grabbed her arm. "Come on, Oathkeeper. Time to fall."