The night collapsed into silence the moment Jasmine hit the stone floor of the Council temple. Her cheek pressed against the cold, cracked surface, but her skin still burned as if the soul-fire clung to her. Smoke curled off her in faint tendrils, and every breath raked down her throat like she’d swallowed the flames. No one moved. Even the shadows along the walls seemed to shrink from her, holding still like they feared what she’d become.

Caleb was the first to break the paralysis. His boots scraped over the fractured stone as he rushed forward, dropping to his knees. “She’s alive,” he rasped, the words carrying both relief and...