The beast's stomach enzymes ate away at Evette's clothes, tearing strips of fabric from her dark skin. She felt the acidic liquid burn her flesh, forcing her body into a state of paralysis. All she could do was close her eyes and allow her body to fall limp within the walls of the rumbling stomach that surrounded her.

The blade at her side had yet to be torn away from her person. Her subconscious screamed at her to reach for it, but she lost all feeling in her delicate fingers. Her every nerve pleaded for sweet mercy, crying out to the darkness that pressed against the tight surrounding walls. She could only blame herself for what was happening. Perhaps she should not have taunted the beast. She would still be breathing crisp, fresh air, if it were not for her own actions.

Her stiffened fingers were plagued by a quickened phase of rigor mortis, and her lungs inflated with one last breath of hot air. She begged, and screamed, but she had no voice to plead, or yell, or lash out. She was mute, just like the darkness that consumed her body. The moment she had given up, was the moment she felt the flame.

The dark heat set her heart ablaze, forcing her adrenaline levels to skyrocket. Her eyes shot open, and she could see everything. Every single lump of goo that covered her body from head to toe. The nerves in her fingers prickled, and she watched as her skin returned to normal. She smiled through the scorching pain, almost as if it had freed her from her own guilty conscience. She somehow turned off the feeling of self-hatred deep within herself, and found that she could only focus on the physical. The fire in her veins pulsed, and she watched as they grew darker in color.

What irked her, was her overwhelming will to live. She could not fight against it now that the darkness had taken over. It thought for her, and moved for her, and certainly planned to speak on her behalf. It was the half of her that was strong, and intense, and fuming with pent up anger and pain that still dwelled inside. It was the fiery part of her, overflowing with voices that yearned for love and affection, but it did not just crave any love, it craved the love of a father and mother.

Eve could imagine her father's face as if he were sitting before her. She wondered how much pleasure she would take in his pain. If dragging a sharp blade across his cheek could make her smile or laugh. She already tore his beloved wife from him, and he knew why. She wanted answers, but she could not get them from inside the belly of a beast, or a pompous, foreign castle. Eve would get her revenge, that she knew.

She felt strong enough to do anything. Strong enough to wrangle a towering creature, or string up her greedy half brothers by their necks. If she were to annihilate them all, she would finally be just as alone as she felt inside. The thought made her shiver in her heated state, and she gritted her teeth in anger. It was not love that kept her going, it was revenge. Cold, sweet revenge that she could breathe, and taste.

Eve was frozen, but she felt heat rise all around her. She felt the beast dry heave, her body shifting as it did. Its stomach was hardy, and could break down just about anything. Anything except Evette.

There was one man she could not remove from her thoughts. Scratch that. There were two. One was faceless, while the other had the bluest of eyes. One reeked of shadow, and the other of burnt ash. Evette had not met the faceless man before. He was not the darkness in her heart, or the pain that consumed her, he was so much more. He was somehow a counterpart to all of it, every single dose of shadow she consumed.

The man she did recognize was not a man at all. He was a spirit with a single purpose, and Evette plucked his soul from the body that was not his own. She could envision him in his entirety. She gave a face to a name, and a name to a face, imagining what he would look like if he were not trapped inside a mortal body. She heard a voice, but it was not his. It was her own, and she could barely recognize it through the flaming haze.

"I'll meet you in the forest." Eve whispered, expelling a breath of air from her lungs. It was a promise, and she intended to keep it.

She burned hotter than the sun, and at the snap of her fingers, flames ignited in her grasp. Her palms were lit up by looming fire, and she gasped as she was suddenly able to move. She paused, staring down at her other hand with a shocked expression on her face. She could control it, all of it. Every flicker of flame, and every wisp of smoke. It was hers to watch, and touch, and command in the palm of her hands.

It was all her. Eve had manifested roaring flame with just a single ounce of anger, and it only grew more fierce as she continued to combine shadow and flame. She could not wrap her head around it, but she tried her best to understand. There was something about it that was certainly unnatural, and otherworldly. She thought back to the moment she met the mysterious visionary in the late hours of the evening. What Avá had shared was practically incomprehensible to Evette at the time, but now, it was a more realistic fantasy. Either she was going comically insane, or she was starting to fulfill her true destiny. It was a hunch, but Evette would have guessed the second.

The heated veins crept slowly up her back, and she winced at the feeling. There was barely any pain at first, but it soon began to worsen. It was there one moment, and then gone the next. The sharp pains she felt were like growing pains, or pain that could be felt by an indecisive heart.

Evette bit her cracked lip, writhing in explosive fury. Her anger grew more potent, teetering on the edge of normalcy, and ready to fall right off. She sat hopeful, curious as to why her heart throbbed in such resilience. The painful ache in her bones was more overwhelming than the fire she grasped in her hands. Her lips parted the moment she heard a low cracking sound. She was startled at first, but the fear and doubts within her were erased by crackling embers.

The white wolf roared. The sound of his heartbeat echoed in the blank of Evette's mind. Her cries were just like his, loud and piercing. The creatures belly bloated with radiating smoke. The pressure was building slowly, so slowly that it was almost impossible to detect.

It was not long before the wolf choked and hissed in discomfort. He fell to his knees, and began hacking up forceful bouts of blood. He could not stop, the action was involuntary. He pressed his paw to his throat, his nails digging into his skin. His silent cry for help was a last ditch effort to stop what was happening to his body.

He was a monster, one who had survived for years without encountering a single man or woman who could render him speechless. Evette did just that, tear his words away. He could not growl, or grunt, or roar like the animal he was. He faced the same fate Eve had, except he could not snap back from his demise. He walked too close to the edge, and fell right off. The pressure only grew more intense. He inhaled fresh air, and exhaled heaps of black smoke from his lungs. He hung on for as long as he could, until the pain was too much to bare. Flames stretched up, and burned his throat. It seemed as if he were breathing fire, but the fire breathed him.

Evette could not explain the feeling that suddenly came over her. She had been experiencing a lot of those types of emotions recently, the ones she could not consciously explain. They only encouraged her, and made her more susceptible to intense emotional outbursts.

The mixture of unexplained fire power and intense pain was fueling her. It destroyed her, but brought her back to life when she needed to be revived. She loved the invigorating feeling of rebirth, and as she stood up, she realized just how much she wanted to claim the gift that had been bestowed upon her. She just did not know how to fully claim it.

Evette balled her fists. She punched through the sensitive flesh of her assailant's stomach. Gore splattered onto her matted hair and dripped down her uncovered arms, but she did not care. She was bloody, and covered in substances that reeked. The look on her face said it all. She was beyond angry, and out of control. She no longer had any sense of self-restraint. The scene unfolded like a bad dream. It was a nightmare in the flesh. Literally.

Her bullish blows were vigorous. She tore through skin and muscle. Her strong hands grasped arteries, and cracked bone after bone in half. Her eyes darkened, and her expression was stoic. She was not stopping, or slowing her gruesome actions. She titled her head, and lifted her ear to hear the beat of his heart. She was close, so close.

When she reached the wolf's heart, she paused for a single second. It was bright red; coursing with blood that Evette practically bathed in. She reached out with sharp claws, and tore the ticker to shreds. The globs of flesh in her hands still beat with a low rumble, and she contemplated bringing a single piece of mangled muscle to her lips. Just a taste. It was all she needed to feel victorious; to feel worthy of the dark magic within. As much as she wanted to, she could not do it. She gave in to the darkness, but she still retained a small bit of her humanity.

The beast was gutted by Eve's fists. Her fingernails stung from the ever-present grime lodged beneath them, and the cuts and bruises on her body were prominent. There were two more long cuts that she could not see. They ran up her back, and bled streaks of flame.

Evette's body was rigid, yet relaxed, as if she had not just killed a freakish beast. She suddenly felt them, the two curved bone protrusions at her back. They unfolded beautifully, wrapping around her front protectively. The white feathers were soft, but they held an edge. The tips of the arranged feathers were sharp to the touch.

Eve could not believe her eyes. She had sprouted wide wings, and as she ran her blood soaked hands over the unnatural feathers, she closed her weary eyes. They were so magnificent, that she could not bare to look at their blinding fiery light any longer. Heat flickered behind her closed eyelids as she felt their softness. They were the epiphany of beauty.

The beast's twitching body finally stilled. His head hung limply, and his paws were folded in his lap. Just before his unsupported weight could bring his lifeless body down to the ground, Evette took action.

She raised her wings, and the force of her movement tore holes through the last layer of surrounding skin. Patches of the beast's fur flew in all different directions, and rays of orange light peeked out into the night. The flames that engulfed the dead monster were blinding, and could be seen for miles. Smoke billowed from the bloody slashes, and the stench of burning flesh polluted the clean air.

Evette shook the earth. The earthquake could be felt from anywhere on the vast map. Commoners tucked in bed were awakened by the horrific rumbles, and kings felt the quake from their high-rise castles.

Layers of skin and bone flew through the air. Blood was plastered against trees, and vile liquids dripped from coated leaves. Evette burst through the body of the beast, wings spread wide. She hovered in the air, her skin glowing brighter than the sun. The darkened sky was suddenly alight. The ground shook, and the earth beneath Evette's body crumbled until there was nothing left but a deep crater. Magma boiled up from beneath the surface of the earth, and floated in the air all around her. It surrounded her like a flock of birds, circling darkly.

Everyone for miles looked to the sky. They could not see the haggard girl within the flash of fire, but they sure saw the unnatural flash of burning smoke in the air. There were no words to explain the breathtaking scene. Fear struck their hearts, and although they did not know it, Evette was the cause of their sudden panic. She left them shaking in their boots.

Evette's eyes were shut tight. She was afraid to look down at the ground. Her legs dangled in the air, and her breath hitched as her filthy wings carried her higher. The feathers were stained blood red, and were slowly going up in flames. The fire inched over her wings, and burned off each feather until they were nothing but falling embers. What was left underneath the cover of white feathers, was a sight to see.

While the scaly white skin underneath was not as attractive as the luxurious feathers Eve had lost, the look better suited her. Her wings were just as tattered and tainted as her broken heart. They were just as beautiful as her too, strength pouring from their blinding light. She focused intently, and allowed beams of fire to rise from her outstretched arms. The lava from the ground and the flames from the sky met in the middle, sealing Evette between their union. Power harshly struck her; she felt irrevocably connected to the earth and sky.

Fire spread to the tall trees, their branches blackened from the flames. Evette's wrath spread through the forest, forcing wildlife from their natural homes. The forest behind her was fully engulfed, while the land that stretched west had yet to go up in flames. She could barely control it, but she tried her best to. By the time she was able t0 break away, it was already too late.

The grey-eyed man and the dark haired woman witnessed Evette's transformation. They would have run, but they were trapped in a ring of heavenly flame. They watched as liquid fire shrank back beneath the ground, and the parted sky sealed shut.

Eve descended from the star filled sky, her boney wings carrying her downward. She touched down to the ground, and fell back to her haunches. Her head hung low, eyes still shut tight.

Narcisse trembled, and his lungs rattled in exasperation. He saw a blur of orange light, and forced his eyes to open wider. He felt heat start to creep toward him, but he did not care. He did not care that his head hurt, or that his chest had been gruesomely impaled by a fallen branch, because it no longer mattered to him. Evette's wicked white wings drew his fearful attention. Shreds of burnt fabric hung from her body in certain areas, revealing patches of blood soaked skin underneath. Although she was covered in fur and flesh, there was no mistaking those eyes, or that gorgeous face. Her eyes flickered when she opened them. Narcisse stared back at her, his brown eyes glossy. She brought him to tears that he was not ashamed to shed. He lifted himself from the ground slightly and crawled forward.

As Narcisse bent his bloody knees, he lowered his gaze. He clutched his heaving stomach, and fought to keep himself from shaking.

"You do not have to bow, Sterling." Her voice came out in a shy whisper. The surrounding shadow dissipated, but Eve's wings did not. They extended from her uncovered back and gently brushed away the dark smoke that clouded her vision. She stood up straight, awkwardly staring down at the man at her feet. 

"Narcisse." He said shakily. His gaze fell to the worn soles of Evette's burnt boots. "Please call me by my first name."

"First name basis it is then," Evette obeyed his wish, and smiled slightly. "Narcisse." His name rolled off her tongue in a low purr that did not go unnoticed.

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