The fire started to spin, almost like a tornado, creating a column of flames. It was almost mythic in its proportions, although Theo would bet good money even the burning bush hadn’t been this intense. The fire popped, then the wind started to whistle as it picked up, spinning in concentric circles. Slowly, the sound started to shift. The whistling sound of the wind changed until it sounded like a screaming woman.
“Wyn!” Theo shouted, now fully terrified, “What have you done?”
Theo rushed towards Wyn's side, but Wyn was transfixed. He stared at the fire as if it hadn't become a blaze, and someone wasn't shouting as if they were trapped inside.
Wyn still didn't move.
The flames started to move again, slowing down, shifting from the column of moving flames until Theo could identify the silhouette of a woman. He could see her hair, the curve of her hips, and even down to her fingertips and toes. She was entirely made of white flames, standing amid the orange and red embers as though completely at home. The roar of the fire and the feminine cries mixed until it was more than Theo could take. He fell to his knees, hitting the deck, covering his ears with his hands.
As quickly as it came, the fire vanished. Theo was too afraid to move for a few seconds, until he removed his hands and realized it was silent. The fire was gone, and the smoke had cleared from the deck of the ship. Despite being a wooden vessel, Theo couldn't spot any obvious or charred damage to the boat.
But a naked woman was standing in the embers of the fire.
She was statuesque, built thick and curvy, with long, black hair that fell almost to her waist. It was tied back in a braid, and the ends of her strands glowed with sparks, the same sparks that danced in her eyes. It gave her an entirely inhuman appearance. She opened her mouth to speak, and only smoke and flames came out.
Theo managed to turn his head to look at Wyn and wasn't prepared for what he found there.
Wyn looked completely, entirely, besotted.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Theo waited for Wyn, turning back towards the mysterious woman standing in the brazier. The atmosphere was heavy as indescribable tension replaced the fog and smoke. The look on Wyn's face had been clear; even unlucky in love as Theo had been throughout his life, he knew the face of a man completely entranced.
There was no other way to describe the pain and adoration etched into Wyn's features. Theo wondered if he should summon the courage to speak when Wyn finally opened his mouth.
“Niamh.” His voice almost cracked, clearing his throat before repeating himself. “Niamh. Welcome to theBarufakr.”
“I wondered when you would call me.”
The mysterious woman, Niamh, crossed her hands over her chest. She did not attempt to move, as if standing above their heads in an exalted position was more suited to her. Theo had to admit, Niamh was dripping with power and authority. She had a genuine case of 'fuck around and find out' energy that Theo was not interested in testing.
He knew that much, young and inexperienced in the world of magic as he was. Wyn cleared his throat, finally pulling his eyesfrom Niamh and looking down at his feet. It was the first time Theo had seen Wyn cower in someone else’s presence. Elves were particularly proud, and elvish princes were even guiltier of that indulgence. Wyn didn't defer to anyone, ever.
Except for the lady on fire.
In a series of ungraceful and awkward movements, Wyn ripped off his shirt and tossed it towards Niamh. She plucked it out of the air and slipped it on. It barely grazed the top of her thighs, but she was decent. Wyn sighed in relief, looking undeniably pained, as if it were bittersweet.
“I’m calling in the favor you owe me, Niamh.” Wyn's voice sounded clearer, as if he was no longer struggling to find the right words, but not by much.
“Obviously.” Niamh's lip curled, barely containing a tirade. She started looking around the boat, taking in her surroundings before turning towards the ocean and the horizon. “I’m surprised you let me near your little boat again.”
Wyn's head snapped towards Niamh. “I’ll have you know that you won't be able to turn her into kindling this time.”
Niamh stuck one dainty foot out over the deck and gracefully hopped down from the brazier. She hardly made a sound when her body hit the deck, striding towards Wyn until there were hardly any inches between them. Theo watched on, in horror and intrigue, debating if he needed to be prepared to defend Wyn from the mysterious woman.
The tension in Wyn’s and Niamh’s bodies echoed throughout the entire ship. It practically emanated from them like an earthquake’s aftershocks. They stared at each other with an unmistakable fire in their eyes, except for the real fire in Niamh’s eyes.
“I could burn it to a crisp if I wanted,” Niamh cooed, her voice much more pleasant and tender than her words. “No amount of your charms or incantations could stop me.”
“I’d like to see you try,” Wyn grunted, his muscles tense as he kept himself back. “But you're here to do me a favor.” He enunciated the wordfavorlike it was a curse word, clearly more frustrated than relieved that he had to call upon Niamh.
“The idea that I owe you a favor after everything you put me through is a mockery,” Niamh hissed. This time, her tongue flickered out between her lips, revealing a forked shape like a snake's. Wyn quivered but didn't take a step back.
“Well, you do,” Wyn deadpanned, holding his ground. “I was given the right to call upon you, to summon you?—”
“You've summoned me like a common dog!” Niamh shouted. As she raised her voice, the sparks at the end of her braid turned into flames and consumed more strands of hair.
“Oh, please,” Wyn rolled his eyes, “I don't believe I could call a dog with incense made of dragon's blood and ground-up gold dust.”
