Page 4 of Hollowed

The fire had kissed my skin—left it red and tender where the oil had burned too fast, raised welts along my arms like brands half-formed. But no char. No blackened flesh. The flames had tasted me and pulled back, as if I wasn't meant for consuming.

My cheeks burned. My lungs seized. I dropped to my knees, coughing into my palm, tasting blood and ash. The fire had not finished the job.

And I was not going to wait for it to change its mind.

I turned to run. Toward the door. Toward stone. Toward anything that didn't want to consume me.

My hands hit solid wall.

Stone where oak should have been. Smooth. Seamless. As if the door had never existed.

My palms pressed flat against it, searching. My breath caught. The wall was cold—colder than the fire should have allowed.

But the door was gone.

And—he was there.

I froze.

He did not move.

He stood between me and the only exit. Barefoot. Robed in black that wasn’t fabric so much as shadow stitched together. He was tall. Too tall. Like he had been carved from cathedral pillars and set free.

His face was not beautiful.

It was brutal.

Scarred across one cheek. A split lip. Eyes that weren’t eyes—just void. Two pits of black so deep I felt like I might fall into them and scream forever.

I recoiled.

Not from fear.

From recognition.

Because I knew, without being told, what he was.

Who he was.

He did not say a word.

He just stepped forward.

And the fire did not touch him.

ChapterTwo

He did not move.

Not at first. Not even when I tore the silk from my thighs and let it burn in a heap at my feet. Not when I fell to my knees. Not when I gasped so loud it echoed and wept into my palms because the fire had not finished me. When I lifted my head, my vision blurring with the heat and tears he remained.

Standing there.

A towering vision of darkness.

The air changed when he entered it. Like silence made heavier. Like time folding in on itself. Like the walls no longer belonged to God,only to him.I kept my gaze down at first. I was afraid of what I’d see if I looked up. And more afraid of what he’d see if I didn’t.

But my body betrayed me.

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