Page 3 of Fated for Flames

I didn’t know what entity had listened to my prayer and had decided to give me this opportunity, but I wasn’t going to miss this second chance. I had spent three months screaming, begging, and being tortured in the cell they held me.

No more.

***

After a shower where I relished having water to clean myself and drink as much as wanted, I stomped to my dresser and chose one of my uniforms to wear. Returning to the academy was the safest place to be. I’d pack my luggage and get out of here as fast as possible.

I no longer felt safe or loved in this place.

Dressing in the academy’s uniform, I reminded myself I also had enemies there. But I still had time before they made their move. I was returning to Arcanum Academy, not as the naive girl I’d once been, but as someone who had been forged in fire, someone with the knowledge and resolve to alter my destiny.

“Trust no one,” I whispered to myself. That was my new motto.

Externally, I was unchanged; the crescent-moon-shaped scar on my wrist was still there. Witches don’t normally scar, but this one had been with me for as long as I could remember. My eyes, however, were another story—once brimming with innocence, they now reflected the weight of pain and anger.

My eyes had always distinguished me from others. They were the legacy of my lineage, passed down from mother to daughter, a unique trait signifying powerful magic.

My mother had always intended to reveal the significance of its power. She would brush my hair back, gaze into my eyes with a smile brimming with secrets, and say, “When you’re older, Eve,” in her gentle voice.

But that time had never come; my parents had been taken from me before I could learn their true meaning.

From now on, I had to be careful and use my magic sparingly. The voice had warned me that every time I used my powers, it would drain my life force. It was the condition of my return. Still, even if it meant my death, the chance to avenge those who had betrayed me would be worth it.

Soft footsteps echoed outside my door, snapping me back.

I was not safe here. I couldn’t let my guard down, not with a coven full of traitors.

I had to be courageous, go back to the academy, and face my so-called friends and the matriarch herself.

Well, maybe not her, not just yet.

I had been given a rare gift and fully intended to take advantage of it.

I just need a plan.

Stepping into the corridor, I was ready to face the challenges ahead.

After all, I was Evelyn Everhart, reborn from the ashes and ready to do everything in my power to change my future and punish the ones who betrayed me.

3

Evelyn

The Arcanum Academy was located in the Northeast of America. Humans didn’t know about its existence and the magical world had no intention of changing that fact.

Though the hour-long bus ride to the academy gave me time to organize my thoughts, it also created cracks in my resolve, especially as my heart began to pound faster with the imminent arrival.

The academy loomed in the distance, its ancient spires a testament to centuries of magical education and secrets. This place had now become my command center for my second chance.

Dominated by one main building, this castle-like structure housed all classes, except for Potions, which found its home in a newer, modern building. The Academy also had two dorm buildings, one for boys and one for girls, each floor was dedicated to a specific supernatural species, that flanked themain academic hub. A few private buildings in the far back of the grounds served as residences for some of the professors who didn’t live in the nearby village.

It was still early when I arrived. Classes hadn’t begun yet, so I had time to go to my dorm room to unpack and grab the books I needed for my morning classes.

Every year, we would travel back to the coven’s estate for the autumnal equinox celebrations, a tradition that was specific to our coven and one that Lia and I had always honored. Given that it also fell on my birthday, we celebrated both events together.

The dormitory, a grand old building with ivy creeping up its stone walls, welcomed me back into its embrace. My room, though small, was a haven. I would plot my revenge here, surrounded by books and artifacts I had accumulated over the years.

I took a moment to settle in, tracing my fingers over the spines of the books. The room bore witness to the person I had been: curious, openhearted, a believer in the inherent goodness of those around me.

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