My girlfriend is trapped in my superpower

Silence clung to the room as the cloaked stranger—Sareth—stood framed in the doorway. His presence swallowed the space, not by force, but by the calm weight of someone who knew he belonged wherever he chose to stand.

"I have searched long for you," Sareth said, his voice carrying like smoke. "The last heir of the voidflame bloodline."

My stomach knotted. He said the words as though they were a greeting, not a burden. His black-fire eyes locked with mine, and for a heartbeat I swore I could hear Lyra's voice again, whispering mockery in the back of my head.

Master Corvin stepped forward, his usual command brittle. "And who are you to claim such things?"

Sareth bowed with an elegance that seemed at odds with his rough cloak. "A messenger. Nothing more. I was tasked, long ago, to seek out the one who carried the ember of our people." His gaze flicked briefly to Mira, Bram, then back to me. "You."

Mira's grip on my arm tightened. Bram shifted like he was ready to cut the man in half if he breathed wrong.

Sareth didn't flinch. Instead, he smiled faintly—tired, sorrowful. "I did not come to drag you into chains, young heir. I came to tell you what the world has hidden from you. You deserve to know."

His tone was warm, reassuring, almost fatherly. It chipped at the wall of unease building inside me. Against my better judgment, I wanted to believe him.

The villagers whispered behind us, words like royal blood and cursed fire flitting through the air. Some edged back as if fearing what I was, but others bowed their heads in awe.

Sareth stepped closer, slow and unthreatening, until he stood just a few feet away. He placed a fist over his chest and bowed deeply.

"I serve the bloodline. And if you are truly its last flame, then my loyalty belongs to you."

The weight of his vow hung in the air like iron.

I swallowed hard, glancing at Mira and Bram. Mira's brow furrowed, suspicion flickering in her golden eyes. Bram's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

Sareth straightened, his eyes never leaving mine. "Rest, Kael. Recover your strength. The time will come when you must rise, but for now… breathe. You have allies."

For a moment, just a moment, it felt true.

Yet deep in my chest, something twisted uneasily. Not enough to call it out. Not enough to fight it. But enough that, when his hand brushed my shoulder in what should have been reassurance, my skin prickled like I'd touched fire.

The training grounds still stank of ash. Every crack in the walls was a reminder of what I had done—what my flames had done. What I am capable of. Villagers crowded at the edges, whispering, their voices like buzzing insects I couldn't swat away.

He's a savior, some whispered.

He's a demon, others hissed.

I pulled my cloak tighter around me, wishing I could sink into it, when I felt the air shift. A presence cut through the noise. Calm. Heavy. Unyielding.

Sareth.

He walked across the courtyard in robes the color of dying embers, his gaze fixed on me like I was some puzzle only he knew how to solve.

"You survived the voidflames," he said, voice low and steady, almost too certain. "Most men would have been devoured. You are not most men."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "I didn't… survive. Not really. I barely held on."

His mouth curved in the faintest smile. "That, boy, is survival."

'Oh, he's good," Lyra's voice purred in my head, smug and sharp. "Broody robes, cryptic praise. You're already swooning. Pathetic."

"Shut up," I muttered under my breath.

Bram blinked beside me. "What?"

"Nothing," I said quickly, heat crawling up my neck.

Sareth's gaze sharpened, as if he'd heard the echo of Lyra's voice. "You wrestle with your companion," he said.

I stiffened. "You… can hear her?"

"I can sense her," he replied. "The bond between you and the Queen of Flames is not subtle."

Lyra gasped theatrically in my head. "Finally, someone remembers my title. I like him. Keep him."

I groaned silently.

He circled me slowly, deliberate, his hands folded behind his back. I felt like prey being weighed by a predator that had no intention of striking—yet. "Your flames nearly consumed this hall," he said. "Untamed, you're dangerous. With guidance, you could be refined into something kings would bow to."

Mira crossed her arms. "And you just happen to be the one to provide that guidance?"

Sareth didn't flinch. "I carry the blood of those who once fought beside the voidflame royals. I know their history. Their burdens. Kael needs more than admiration and fear—he needs discipline."

Bram scratched his chin. "I've been trying to beat some into him for months. Hasn't worked."

Sareth's lips quirked. "That is because you use fists. I will use fire."

Something inside me pulled toward him, like a tether tightening. He didn't look at me like the villagers did. He didn't whisper demon. He didn't recoil. He just… saw me.

Lyra ruined it, of course. "Oh no. Don't give him that look. That's the mentor gaze. Next thing you know, you'll be crying in his arms while he calls you 'my boy.'"

I clenched my jaw, forcing back a smile.

Sareth stopped in front of me, his voice steady, commanding. "The masters will never understand you. The villagers will always fear you. But I… I see what you could become. Trust me, Kael, and I will make you more than a weapon. I will make you a king."

The word king hit something deep in my chest. A hunger I didn't even realize I'd been carrying.

Mira shot Bram a look. Bram muttered, "Well, that didn't sound ominous at all."

Sareth extended a hand toward me. His eyes locked onto mine—unyielding, almost burning. "Do you accept my guidance?"

My heart pounded. Lyra's voice brushed against me, soft and mocking. "Careful, Kael. Kings burn brightest right before they fall."

But my hand moved before I could second-guess it. I took his and in that moment, I wasn't just Kael the cursed boy, Kael the mistake in the orphanage, Kael the almost-devoured.

I was someone who might finally matter.