My girlfriend is trapped in my superpower

Lyra's POV

Do you know what it's like to be a secret? Not just hidden, but sealed away, trapped inside someone else's skin while the world stares at him and pretends I don't exist?

That's my life. My eternity. A fragment of the Voidflame, caged in the body of a boy who doesn't even realize what he is.

Kael thinks I'm his sarcastic little hitchhiker. Cute, right? The truth? I've been watching him since before he could crawl. I've felt every heartbeat, every scar, every lonely night he pretended not to care. He doesn't know it yet, but his soul and mine are bound by something older than the Guild, older than the city, older than these pathetic mortals trying to leash us.

And now—ha. Now they're summoning him to the Guild Council like he's the problem….. No, darlings, I'm the problem. And if they look too closely, they'll realize it.

Here's the delicious part: Kael still doesn't understand what he carries inside. Not fully. He thinks he can fight monsters, carry burdens, and maybe flirt with Mira when she's not scolding him. He doesn't realize that the flame in his chest isn't just me—it's ours. Our power. Our destiny.

And if the Guild tries to rip me out of him? Well. I'll burn this city until there's nothing left but ash.

Kael walks into the Guild hall with that awkward, stiff stride of his, like he's holding his breath against the weight of a hundred eyes. Poor boy. He doesn't realize half of those eyes are staring through him, trying to glimpse me.

I can feel it—their suspicion, their hunger, their fear. The Council masks it with stern voices and grand speeches, but I taste it like smoke on my tongue. They want to know what happened in the city. Why a creature born of shadow screamed like it had been scorched by the sun. Why Kael's magic ripped the street apart and then stitched it back together.

They think he's dangerous. They have no idea.

"Kael," booms Councilor Eryndor, the grumpy one with the eyebrows that look like they could murder a bird mid-flight, "explain to us the nature of the power you unleashed."

Kael swallows. His palms sweat. I can feel it, because I am it. "I don't… I don't know."

Oh, sweet liar. He knows I was there, whispering in his ear, guiding his hand, teasing him into letting the fire bleed, but he'll never say my name out loud, not here.

The Council leans forward, a pack of vultures circling a secret they can't quite touch and for the first time, I wonder how long I can stay hidden before they tear Kael apart trying to get to me.

One thing is certain: If they try to separate us, I will not go quietly.

The silence in the chamber is thick enough to strangle. Kael fumbles through his answers, the poor boy sweating rivers, and the Guild's precious Council circles him like wolves that haven't eaten in weeks.

I hate it. I hate watching them strip him bare with their words, like he's nothing more than a puzzle they can break apart. Something in me stirs. Burns. Wants out.

And then—I do.

A ripple of fire tears itself free of Kael's shadow, stretching, blooming, until I stand beside him, bare feet brushing the marble floor, my hair flickering like a night sky just before dawn. The gasps echo like thunder. Some leap to their feet. Others draw weapons they know won't matter.

"Hello," I say, smiling sweetly, letting them feel just how little they scare me.

Kael's eyes snap wide. "Lyra—"

"Relax," I murmur without turning to him. "I won't bite. Not unless they beg."

The Councilor with the iron voice slams his staff. "What are you?"

For a heartbeat, I almost tell them the truth. Almost. Instead, I lift my chin and let the flames whisper behind my eyes. "Not from here."

And with that, pieces of me bleed into the chamber. They don't see it, not the way Kael does, but I know they feel it—the glimpse of my world.

An endless sky split with rivers of fire. A land of shadows where stars were born screaming, only to burn out in silence. The great halls of my people, now nothing more than dust, scattered across a void where even time itself was afraid to linger.

It isn't memory. It isn't vision. It's ache. The kind of ache that sinks into the bones and never lets go.

"I was made," I say softly, though the edge in my voice cuts sharp, "in a place where even gods would not tread and then I was left alone when it all went dark."

Their fear shifts—into something closer to reverence. Or maybe horror. Either way, I can taste it.

Kael looks at me like he doesn't know whether to shield me or beg me to shut up. I almost laugh, because neither will matter.

The Guild wanted answers and now they have more questions than ever. The chamber is filled with silence after my words.

One Councilor drops his quill. Another mutters a prayer under his breath. The woman with steel-gray eyes -Helen- leans forward, her voice sharper than a blade.

"You claim you are not from here. Then why are you here? Tethered to him?"

I tilt my head toward Kael, my smile tugging into something between a secret and a dare.

"Because your boy here invited me. Not on purpose, of course… but doors don't always need to be opened to be walked through."

Kael stiffens beside me. "Lyra—"

I hold up a finger, silencing him with a glance. "Shhh, darling. Let me handle the old vultures."

That earns a hiss from one of them. Another Councilor slams the butt of his staff again, sparks scattering across the marble. "You mock this Council?"

"Mock?" I let my flames flicker higher, licking the air, brushing their precious bookshelves with a heat that makes parchment curl. "No. Mocking would be a waste of breath. I'm merely entertaining myself."

A nervous shuffle goes through the chamber. I can smell their unease, the sharp tang of it, sweet as wine. I don't stop there.

"You've been playing at guardianship, haven't you? Pretending you hold the city safe, that you keep balance." My tone dips low, almost amused. "But balance isn't yours to hold. You only shuffle pieces around the board, hoping no one notices the cracks. The real threats…" My eyes burn into theirs. "…you've never even seen."

Helen finally speaks again, more measured this time. "And you have?"

"Sweetheart," I murmur, stepping closer so the flames of my hair illuminate her face, "I am one."

The chamber feels smaller now, tighter, as if the walls themselves lean in to hear me. Kael's pulse hammers like a war drum beside me, and yet—I can feel him. He's torn between horror and awe.

I savor it. This is the truth: they think they summoned Kael to account for himself. But it's me they're seeing now. Me who won't bow. I finally lower my flames, the Council sits rigid, unsettled, not sure whether to demand more… or pray I never speak again.

The chamber's torches flicker as I let my fire dim, just enough that the Council dares to breathe again.

"Why did the monsters attack him?" Helen presses, her voice cutting like glass. "Why do they come for you two?"

I step forward, bare feet tapping against the marble, my grin lazy and sharp. "Because predators smell power, they crave it. Because some things in this world aren't meant to exist alone…" My eyes burn, molten gold, as I lean closer, "…and when two pieces finally fit together, the world notices."

Kael's jaw tightens. He doesn't fully understand yet, but the flush of heat through our bond betrays him — some part of him feels the truth in my words.

A younger Councilor blurts, "You mean… Kael is the source?"

I laugh, the sound echoing with a crackle of fire, too loud for their chamber. "Cute. No, little mage. Kael isn't the source. He's the anchor."

Silence. Uneasy, brittle silence.

I let it stretch before I give them a sliver more, just enough to leave their heads spinning. "The monsters aren't mindless. They're drawn to the void between us — me, bleeding into your world where I don't belong. Him, binding me here when I should've been lost."

The older man with the staff growls, "So you admit you're the danger."

"Wrong again." My flames ripple outward, shadows dancing madly along the chamber walls. "The danger isn't me being here. The danger is what comes hunting when they realize I'm not alone anymore."

That lands. I can feel it in the way their fear thickens, in the way Kael's eyes flick toward me — searching for truth, searching for the part of me I won't give him yet.

I turn to him then, just briefly, and soften my smile. "You wanted answers, Kael. There's one: you and I? We're not being hunted for what we did. We're being hunted for what we are."

The chamber feels colder after that, even with the heat radiating off me.

The air hangs heavy, thick with fear and the tang of burning stone. I let the silence stretch — silence makes mortals squirm — but then a voice cuts through it. Kael's.

"Enough."

He steps forward, placing himself between me and the Council. His shoulders square, his jaw set. He doesn't flare magic, doesn't even raise his voice but his presence… it hits harder than fire.

"She's telling you more than you've earned," he says, his tone flat, steady. "You can glare, bark orders, throw suspicion — but it doesn't change the fact that without her, I'd be dead. Without her, half your city would already be ash. You want to treat her like the threat? Fine. But remember who kept your walls standing last night."

The chamber stirs — whispers, shifting robes, a scoff from the old man with the staff.

I watch him with narrowed eyes, heat stirring low in my chest. He didn't defend me because I needed it. He defended me because it's him. Because Kael doesn't bend to fear or politics — only to what's right in his maddening, blunt little head.

"Kael," I murmur, just enough for him to hear, "you realize you just made yourself their next target, don't you?"

He doesn't look back at me. He keeps his storm-grey eyes locked on the Council. "Let them try."

For one breathless moment, the chamber feels like the world has tilted — as if the Guild itself isn't sure whether they're staring at a reckless boy they've always known Kael to be or something far more dangerous. I can't stop smiling.

For a moment, the chamber is silent. Then the old man with the staff leans forward, eyes gleaming like coals. "You speak boldly, boy. Too boldly. Perhaps… dangerously."

Another Guildmaster snaps his fingers, and the warding circles carved into the chamber floor flare alive, heat rippling under our feet. The symbols glow brighter, crawling toward Kael, toward me, hungry like the jaws of a beast.

Kael doesn't flinch. He doesn't even move.

I feel the wards biting at me, trying to sink into my skin, and my flames rise instinctively in defiance — violet heat licking at the edges of my form.

The Council thinks they can chain me? Chain us?

Kael lifts his hand, palm flat, as if telling me to wait. His eyes — steady, storm-grey, unshaken — lock on the Guildmasters.

"You just made a mistake," he says, voice low, dangerous.

The chamber shakes. The lights sputter. For a split second, I swear even the wards hesitate.

And then—

CRACK.

The wards shatter. The Guildmasters recoil, eyes wide. The air reeks of ozone and smoke. Kael stands untouched in the center of it all, shadows curling at his feet like a promise. The silence that follows is hotter, sharper, than any flame I could conjure.

In that moment, they all see it. They all see him and they're terrified.