Luna was an orphan all her life. She loved adventures and travelling, too curious for her own good. She will get nosy and enter a hostile kingdom, meeting a cold and handsome prince named Sleet. She will scam hot-headed fire demons in the heart of a...
The Icee struggled in his grip. But Flare only brought him closer, crushing him against his chest. Enraged, the bloody wolf bit his shoulder! Flare howled, but he refused to let go. I should just kill him, Flare thought exasperatedly. But then something made him stop.
What kind of prince are you?! Have you no sense of loyalty to your tribe? The wolf had asked back in the desert.
His family and tribe meant nothing to him. But Sleet seemed to love his a lot. I don't care. I don't care.
He thought of mother sleeping with someone who was not father. I don't care.
He thought of his brother, Kumzo, who died at the hands of a rogue Nightling gladiator. I don't care.
He thought of his niece, Fifi, alone in that palace; constantly pressured by fake aristocrats. I. Don't. Care.
Flare looked into Sleet's multi-colored gaze and could sense his reluctance. His eyes said: I don't want to hurt you, but I don't have a choice.
So the Heatling did something unlike him, he gripped the wolf by his shoulders and pulled him until their noses nearly grazed each other. "Listen, Icee. You can either back down and we'll pretend this little betrayal of yours never happened. Or you can fight me, lose, and be my prisoner for real. I'll make sure the Nightling and Scorpian hate you for what you are."
Sleet's eyes widened, conflicted and surprised by the offer. But he shook his head, "You don't understand—"
"No YOU don't understand!" Flare bellowed. "If you do the latter, I will kill you without remorse."
The Icee shook his head, a single tear running down the tip of his nose and onto the Heatling. "I'm sorry." He then grabbed Flare's wrists, injected as much coldness as he could into the Heatling's body.
Flare cried out, returning the favor with his flames. The melanin in Flare's arms began to bruise and turn blue-black, likely going to leave a life - long scar. I can't....feel my arms....Flare screamed and kicked, but Sleet didn't let go. His fire wasn't hot enough, it would just extinguish the moment it touched the Icee's skin. He grew up in a harsher environment, and he's been to my home. He knows how to keep himself cool in extremely hot areas.
I need more fire. I need it hotter.
There's a reason why you are the namesake of our deity, the Phoenix Flarik.He recalled his brother telling him. There's a hidden spark in you that many don't see, but I do. And when the time comes, that spark will ignite.
Hoping his dead sibling wasn't wrong about him, Flare flared the spark within him. He pulled off his eyepatch, revealing his hidden eye. He opened it for the first time in years. Hotter...I need to be hotter....
He remembered the times where he remained silent, pretending he didn't care about the things going on around him. HOTTER.
He remembered when he expressed too much, hurting those around him like his fire. I NEED TO CONTROL IT...
The red flames engulfing his hands flickered gold, then changed color.
Blue.
He blasted Sleet away from him, the Icee flew and landed a few yards away. He stared at Flare in newfound horror. The Heatling's hidden eye glowed azure blue, his hair danced and rippled like a bright blue fire. Sleet whispered a curse as Flare approached him.
The Heatling cracked his knuckles, grinning savagely. "You made your choice..."
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