Zara’s POV
Heat.
It prickled at the back of my neck. For a moment I thought I was burning again, that flames were about to roar out of me, devouring everything. My eyes snapped open, my body jerking upright in a panic.
But there was no fire. Only shadows.
My breath came sharp, fast, as my eyes adjusted to the dim glow of light hanging against the far wall. The ceiling above was high, arched, unfamiliar. The scent of herbs and antiseptic stung my nose. Linen sheets tangled around me, clinging like restraints.
The healer’s ward.
It all rushed back in fragments — Alex’s taunts, the circle of students, the strike I’d tried to block. And then… heat. Fire. Not from the training torches, not from anyone else, but from me.
I shoved the sheets back with shaking hands, staring at my palms as
