Page 111 of Claimed By Flame

Queen. Mother. Savior.

His.

Cassian slipped an arm around her waist, tugging her close. “He’s talking to the flame again.”

“Oh, gods,” she groaned. “We’re not ready.”

“We’ve never been ready.”

She laughed into his chest. “You’re supposed to lie to me and say we’ve got this.”

He kissed her temple. “We’ve got this. Mostly.”

The children were back at it now—chasing each other across the stone, shouting about monsters and kings and dragons. One tripped, scraped a knee, and before Seraphine could move, theother one was already there, placing a hand over the wound and whispering.

The skin glowed. Healed.

Cassian watched, quiet.

“They’re gonna be stronger than both of us,” he said.

Seraphine rested her chin on his shoulder. “Then we teach them to be better than us too.”

He nodded slowly. The horizon stretched out in front of them, vast and golden, the ruins of the old world behind and a new one unfolding like a story not yet written.

“You ever think we’d live this long?” he asked.

She laughed once. “No. I thought we’d burn out before we ever saw the end.”

“But we didn’t.”

“No.” Her hand found his, fingers lacing tightly. “We built something. And I’m not letting anyone take it from us.”

He turned, facing her fully. “Neither am I.”

There was a pause. Then, quieter. More raw.

“They’ll come again one day,” she whispered. “Something else. Maybe not Hollow. But something dark.”

Cassian looked back at their children, at the fire, at the way the world finally felt like it belonged to someone worthy.

“They can try,” he said. “And when they do, we’ll be ready.”

A breeze swept past them, curling around the towers of the old castle—now a sanctuary, a home. And below, in the field, two children laughed like the world had never known war.

Cassian tightened his grip on Seraphine’s hand. Because they would protect that laugh. That light. That future.

With fire.

Blood.

Love.

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