Burned

Burned Plot Summary

Introduction

# Shattered Souls: A Journey Through Darkness to Light The ancient stones of Venice drank blood that night as Kalona's hands twisted with casual indifference, snapping Heath's neck like a dry branch. The winged immortal felt nothing—no remorse, no hesitation—until Zoey's scream shattered the darkness. Her anguish froze his heart as she hurled the full power of spirit at him, the element that had sustained him for centuries now searing his flesh like molten silver. As icy waters of the Gulf closed over him, Kalona realized with devastating clarity that he had destroyed the one thing he'd sworn to protect. Zoey's soul fractured like glass, her spirit departing this world for the Otherworld—a realm from which few returned whole. But Neferet, the fallen High Priestess who commanded threads of living Darkness, saw opportunity in tragedy. With Kalona weakened and Zoey's soul shattered, she wove an unholy oath that would bind the immortal's spirit to hunt Zoey through the realm of the dead. Meanwhile, Stark—Zoey's Warrior and Guardian—prepared for an impossible journey. To save his queen, he would have to die without dying, travel to a world forbidden to the living, and face an enemy who had been killing for millennia. The battle for Zoey's soul would determine not just her fate, but the balance between Light and Darkness itself.

Chapter 1: The Shattering of Spirit

Kalona's body lay broken on the frozen stones of San Clemente Island, his magnificent wings torn and bloodied from Zoey's spirit attack. The immortal who had once been Nyx's favored Warrior now gasped like a dying animal, emotions he'd forgotten he possessed tearing through him like shrapnel. He had killed the human boy without thought, but Zoey's anguish—that single, soul-destroying scream—had awakened something in him he'd believed long dead. Neferet's stiletto heels clicked against the stone as she approached, her emerald eyes glittering with satisfaction. The fallen High Priestess had orchestrated this moment perfectly, knowing that Kalona's weakness would give her the leverage she needed. Threads of Darkness writhed around her fingers like living serpents, eager to taste immortal blood. "You allowed Stark to witness your killing of the boy," she said, her voice colder than the winter sea. "Accidents are unacceptable." Kalona struggled to lift his head, amber eyes blazing with defiance even as his strength ebbed. "Zoey should not have been there." "Actually, the result of what she saw is rather convenient." Neferet smiled, weaving intricate patterns in the air above his prone form. "A shattered soul is a death sentence, but Zoey has a terribly inconvenient habit of surviving. This time I am going to ensure she dies." The Darkness responded to her call, flowing like black oil across the stones. Kalona watched with growing dread as she drew more of the sentient evil to herself, understanding too late what she intended. Through an unholy oath sealed with her own blood, Neferet bound his weakened spirit to her will. "Your gorgeous body was banished from the Otherworld," she explained as tendrils of Darkness wrapped around his throat. "But did Nyx say anything about your immortal soul?" As the binding took hold, Kalona's spirit was ripped from his flesh, forced into the realm he had not seen since his fall from grace. His last coherent thought before the darkness claimed him was a prayer to a Goddess who no longer heard his voice.

Chapter 2: Paths of Sacrifice and Forbidden Bonds

In Tulsa, Stevie Rae Johnson faced her own impossible choice. The first Red Vampyre High Priestess stood in the abandoned tunnels beneath the city, her earth-brown eyes fixed on the creature that should have been her enemy. Rephaim, son of Kalona, crouched in the shadows like a broken angel, his raven-black wings folded against his muscular torso. The Raven Mocker's human eyes studied her with an intensity that made her breath catch. Their Imprint had formed when he saved her life, creating a blood bond that defied every law of vampyre society. Now, with news of Zoey's condition reaching them, that forbidden connection might be their only hope of understanding what had happened. "My father doesn't want Zoey dead," Rephaim told her, his voice rough with emotion he was still learning to feel. "He simply wants to possess her." "Some of us think being possessed against our will is worse than death," Stevie Rae countered, but her hand moved unconsciously to touch the place where his talons had once pierced her flesh. Rephaim's revelation chilled her blood. Neferet had trapped Kalona's body while commanding his spirit to hunt Zoey in the Otherworld. The fallen immortal was as much a prisoner as his intended victim, bound by oaths written in Darkness itself. That night, Kramisha burst into the tunnels with prophetic fire burning in her eyes, clutching a poem that seemed to pulse with otherworldly power. The young Poet Laureate's gift had manifested again, offering cryptic guidance when they needed it most. "A double-edged sword, one side destroys, one releases," she read, her voice trembling with the weight of prophecy. "I am your Gordian knot. Will you release or destroy me?" The words hung in the air like incense, heavy with meaning neither of them fully understood. But Stevie Rae felt the truth of them in her bones, in the place where her Imprint with Rephaim burned like a brand. The path to saving Zoey would require sacrifices none of them were prepared to make.

Chapter 3: The Guardian's Quest to Ancient Realms

The High Council's judgment fell like a death sentence in the marble halls of San Clemente. Seven days—that was all the time Zoey's body could survive without her soul. Already her breathing had grown shallow, her heartbeat irregular as her spirit wandered lost in the Otherworld. Stark knelt beside her still form, his calloused hands gentle as he brushed dark hair from her face. The Warrior who had sworn to protect her with his life now faced a task that seemed impossible even for one of his skills. The living could not enter the realm of the dead, not even to follow their High Priestess. "I'm her protection," he insisted to the assembled Council, his voice raw with desperation. "I don't care if it's in this world or the next. Just show me how to get to where she is." Thanatos, the ancient High Priestess with an affinity for death, shook her head gravely. Her dark eyes held centuries of sorrow as she delivered the crushing truth. "A living Warrior cannot enter the Otherworld. Should you attempt it, you would be lost as well." But Aphrodite, Nyx's sharp-tongued Prophetess, had discovered fragments of an ancient path in the dusty archives. Her ice-blue eyes blazed with determination as she read from crumbling texts that spoke of warrior queens and forgotten magicks. "The Warrior must look to his blood to discover the bridge to enter the Isle of Women," she recited, "and then he must defeat himself to enter the arena." The revelation hit Stark like a physical blow. His human surname, MacUallis, belonged to an ancient Scottish clan that had served as Guardians to a vampyre queen older than recorded history. Sgiach, the warrior queen of the Isle of Skye, ruled a realm where raw magick still held sway, untamed by modern vampyre society. Within hours, they were airborne over the North Sea, Zoey's lifeless body cradled in Stark's arms as their helicopter fought through gathering storm clouds. The Isle of Skye rose from the dark waters like something from a fever dream, shrouded in mists that seemed to move with purpose.

Chapter 4: Trials in the Otherworld

The stone altar drank Stark's blood greedily as Seoras worked with ritualistic precision, each cut of the ceremonial dirk opening pathways between worlds. The ancient Guardian's weathered face showed no mercy as he carved symbols into Stark's flesh, preparing him for a journey no living Warrior had ever attempted. "Trust me, laddie," Seoras whispered in his thick Scottish brogue. "Let go." As consciousness fled his body, Stark found himself falling through absolute darkness until a massive bull materialized before him—midnight black against the void, its eyes burning with otherworldly power. This was the test that would determine whether he lived or died, whether he could become something more than just a Warrior. "Face me and move on, if you dare," the creature challenged. Stark didn't hesitate. He charged directly at the beast, grasping its horns as it lowered its massive head. The bull tossed him skyward, and he tumbled through dimensions until he landed hard at the boundary of Nyx's sacred realm. There, his greatest enemy waited—himself. The dark reflection wielded an identical broadsword but radiated malice and bloodlust, everything Stark had fought to overcome since pledging himself to Zoey's service. "The only way you can get in here is to kill me," his other self taunted, "and I'm not gonna die." Their blades clashed beneath an ethereal archway as blood flowed from Stark's wounds. This wasn't about destroying his darkness—it was about accepting it, integrating it, becoming whole. The Warrior had to die for the Guardian to be born. "I'm selfish," Stark admitted as he pressed his attack. "I'm arrogant. Sometimes I'm mean. We have a bad temper, and when we get pissed off, we hold a grudge." Understanding dawned as his dark reflection smiled and impaled itself on his blade. "I'll see you again, Warrior, sooner than you think." The archway dissolved, and Stark found himself in Nyx's sacred grove, following a golden thread deeper into the realm where Zoey waited, lost and fading.

Chapter 5: The Price of Honor and Love's Sacrifice

In the heart of the Otherworld, Zoey paced in endless circles, her soul fractured beyond recognition. Pieces of herself had scattered throughout the realm—her joy, her strength, her compassion—leaving her diminished and fading with each passing hour. Only Heath's presence kept her tethered to any sense of identity, but even that anchor was slipping away. "Zo, babe, you've got to pull yourself together," Heath pleaded, trying to hold her still as she moved in erratic patterns. "I can't," she whispered, tears streaming down her translucent face. "It's gone on too long. I can't bring my soul together. The only thing I know for sure is that I deserve this." Outside the grove's protective boundaries, Kalona circled like a predator, his spirit form crackling with dark energy. Neferet's oath compelled him to ensure Zoey never returned to her body, but something deeper—some fragment of his former self—rebelled against the task. When Stark finally found them, he concealed himself behind ancient trees, watching the tragic scene unfold. Heath sensed his presence first, approaching with the protective instincts of a consort who had died for love. "What the hell are you doing here?" Heath demanded. "Are you dead too?" "No," Stark explained quietly. "I'm here to protect Zoey so she can get back to her body where she belongs." The truth hit Heath like a physical blow. If Zoey didn't return, the world they had both known would be consumed by Darkness. Aphrodite's visions had shown cities burning, innocents dying, all because one girl's soul remained shattered in the realm of the dead. Heath's expression crumbled as understanding dawned. He had to leave Zoey—not because he wanted to, but because staying would damn them all. The ultimate sacrifice awaited him, and he would make it gladly. "I want you to remember something, Zo," he said, holding her trembling shoulders one last time. "I'm gonna leave here and get another chance at life. I'll find you again. Even if it takes a hundred years. I promise you, Zoey Redbird, we'll be together again." Then he walked away, stepping through a curtain of light into his next lifetime, leaving Zoey utterly broken and Stark to face the impossible task of making her whole again.

Chapter 6: Confronting Darkness and Reclaiming Wholeness

Zoey's anguish at Heath's departure nearly destroyed what remained of her fractured soul. She collapsed against a cedar tree, resuming her endless pacing as tears leaked steadily down her face. Each step took her further from the world of the living, deeper into the gray twilight of the lost. Stark emerged from his hiding place, approaching her with infinite care. "Zoey, hey, it's me." "Heath!" she cried, whirling toward his voice with desperate hope. "No. It's Stark. I'm sorry about Heath." He pulled her cold body into his arms, feeling how insubstantial she had become. "He's gone," she whispered, her eyes vacant as she pulled away to resume her pacing. "Always is done now." Stark kept pace with her, taking her hand as he struggled to reach her through the fog of despair. "I'm here to protect you so that you can pull the pieces of your soul together, and then we'll go home." "I can't. Go back without me. I have to stay here and wait for Heath." "Heath's not coming back here. He went on to another lifetime." The words tasted like ashes, but Stark forced them out. "You have to come back because it's the right thing, the honorable thing to do." "I can't. There's not enough of me left." But even as she spoke, something stirred within her—a recognition that caring about others wasn't weakness, it was strength. Heath's sacrifice had shown her that love sometimes meant letting go, and his words about honor echoed in the hollow spaces where her soul had been. Stark led her toward the edge of the grove, his jaw set with grim determination. "I'm gonna kick some immortal ass. For you, for me, and for Heath." As they reached the boundary, he stepped beyond the trees and called out to the darkness: "Come on, Kalona! I know you're here! Come get me!" The sky rippled as massive black wings materialized, and Kalona descended like a fallen angel, his amber eyes blazing with conflicted fury. The immortal who had once served Nyx now found himself bound to destroy the very thing he had sworn to protect.

Chapter 7: Restoration and New Beginnings

The arena Kalona created in the earth pulsed with malevolent energy as he faced Stark in single combat. A Guardian claymore materialized in Stark's hands—the weapon of his new station—but even with its power, he was no match for an immortal who had been killing for millennia. "You can't be a Guardian," Kalona mocked as he battered Stark with devastating force. "I know your past, boy. I've seen you embrace Darkness." "The only other person who can make, or unmake, me a Guardian is my queen," Stark gasped through broken lips, struggling to his feet as blood poured from his wounds. "Zoey isn't a queen. She isn't strong enough. She's just a weak girl who let herself be shattered by the death of one human boy." "You're wrong," Stark replied, raising his blade one final time. "Zoey isn't weak; she cares!" From the edge of the arena, Zoey watched in horror as Kalona systematically destroyed her Warrior. But the immortal's words cut through the fog of guilt that had blanketed her since Heath's death. Caring didn't make her weak—it made her who she was meant to be. She turned away from the arena and spread her arms wide, calling to the scattered pieces of her soul. "Brighid! I need my strength back!" One by one, they came—her joy in the form of a nine-year-old child, her strength as a tall redheaded woman, and finally her compassion as A-ya, the Cherokee maiden whose spirit had always lived within her. Each fragment returned willingly, drawn by her newfound understanding of herself. When she returned to the arena, Stark was on his knees, his body broken and bleeding. Kalona raised his spear for the killing blow, but hesitated as he saw Zoey approaching, whole once more, her sapphire tattoos blazing with elemental power. "You have no idea how tired I am of your crap, Kalona," she said. In that moment of distraction, the immortal hurled his spear with devastating accuracy. It struck Stark in the chest, impaling him against the arena wall as his life ebbed away. "My queen won't let anything shatter her again," Stark whispered with his final breath. "Collect your debt, and let's go home." Zoey faced Kalona with fury and determination replacing her grief. "I claim the life debt you owe me for killing Heath. You're going to pay me by bringing Stark back." Before Kalona could protest, Nyx herself appeared beside Stark's body, her divine presence filling the arena with silver light. The Goddess commanded her fallen Warrior to fulfill his debt, then turned her back on him in final judgment. With tears streaming down his face, Kalona bent over Stark's still form. "I return to you that last sweet breath of life. With it live again, and accept a small piece of my immortality for the human life I have taken." As he kissed Stark, tendrils of Darkness erupted from the ground, wrapping around Kalona's body and dragging him away to face Neferet's wrath. But the deed was done—Stark gasped back to life in Zoey's arms, forever changed by his journey through death.

Summary

The golden thread that bound Zoey and Stark hardened into a bracelet around his wrist as they prepared to return to the world of the living. Their journey through the Otherworld had transformed them both—Zoey from a shattered girl into a true High Priestess, Stark from a Warrior into something greater, a Guardian whose oath transcended death itself. The elements flowed between them as he drank from her neck, healing his wounds and cementing their bond with power older than vampyre civilization. They had faced the ultimate test of honor and emerged victorious, but at a cost that would echo through both their lives. As they stood together in Nyx's sacred grove, the Goddess's laughter rang in their minds with both blessing and warning. The battle against Darkness had only begun, and greater challenges awaited them in the mortal realm. But they would face whatever came as they had faced death—together, bound by honor, strengthened by sacrifice, and guided by the unshakeable truth that some things are worth dying for, and even more precious things are worth living for. The shattered souls had been made whole, but their true test lay not in the realm of the dead, but in the world of the living, where love and duty would demand everything they had learned about themselves.

About Author

Loading

P.C. Cast

Cast interrogates the intersection of myth and modernity in her writing, often drawing on her early passions for mythology and Quarter Horses. Her experiences growing up in Illinois and Oklahoma significantly shaped her narrative style, imbuing her stories with a deep appreciation for both the natural world and ancient legends. After serving in the United States Air Force, Cast honed her skills in public speaking and writing, which laid the foundation for her later career. She transitioned to writing full-time after a 15-year tenure teaching high school, where she nurtured her talent for storytelling and education.\n\nIn her work, Cast employs a blend of fantasy and reality, crafting worlds that captivate and engage readers while exploring complex themes. Her novels have achieved critical acclaim, as evidenced by her numerous awards, including the Oklahoma Book Award and the Romantic Times Reviewers' Choice Award. This level of recognition underscores her ability to resonate with a diverse audience. Her readers, often seeking escapism and depth in equal measure, find her narratives both entertaining and thought-provoking. The "House of Night" series, particularly its fourth installment, "FOUND," exemplifies her method of intertwining relatable characters with mystical elements.\n\nFor readers delving into Cast's stories, the benefit lies in her ability to transport them to richly imagined realms while addressing universal themes of identity and belonging. Her work's impact is magnified by her status as a #1 New York Times and USA Today Best-Selling author, affirming her place in contemporary literature. This brief bio highlights Cast's journey from Midwest origins to her current life in Oregon, where she continues to write amidst her family of animals and ongoing projects, including the anticipated "HoN" TV series adaptation.

Read more