A single, flickering flame starts just before the front door, but within the blink of an eye, it rapidly spreads over the porch, swiftly climbing up the front of the house.

I recognize that these are no ordinary flames. These were created with power, made to destroy, and move quickly as they burn everything they touch.

"Willow!" Zeke yells, horror coloring his words as he charges forward.

All at once, the entire building is suddenly engulfed in roaring flames, sending a massive wave of heat and ash rolling through the air. Zeke and I whip away from the scorching temperature that crashes into us, raising our arms to cover our faces out of instinct.

Smoke follows the wave of heat, dark tendrils pouring out of the windows that were left cracked open and rising toward the sky, as if trying to escape the spreading fire.

Zeke coughs and pants, but it does nothing to deter him as he breaks into a sprint, heading straight for the blazing inferno.

"Zeke!" I shout pleadingly, attempting to get his attention, but it's a futile effort.

Before I can fully comprehend my own actions, I impulsively snap my hand out in his direction, shooting bands of my power toward him and allowing it to wrap around his body.

His arms are forced to his sides, constricted against his torso, but he pushes forward with a determined growl, feet continuing in their onward march despite the invisible restraints. My power slides around his legs, pulling him down to one knee and he fights it viscously. Every muscle in his body strains against my efforts to immobilize him, and his lips lift into a deadly snarl that flashes sharp, white canines.

"You can't go in there, Zeke!" I yell over the sound of rushing flames and the crackling of burning wood. "You won't survive that!"

"Let go of me, Victoria!" He demands, voice threatening and full of rage.

I realize that there is no chance at reasoning with him. Protective instincts and the familial love he has for his sister are clouding his mind, telling him that he has to do whatever it takes to save them, even if it means risking his own life.

"I can't," I mutter grimly under my breath, coming to a stop next to him as he releases booming growls, and struggles against the force of my power. "I'm sorry, Moose." My voice comes in the form of a whisper that doesn't even make it to his ears, and is instead lost among the chaos.

A ferocious roar tears from his throat, coming from deep within his chest. His nails slide forward, lengthening into the inhuman claws of a beast. The veins along his arms and in his neck are prominent while he uses all of his strength to forcefully fight against the invisible ties that bind him.

I reach out tentatively, placing my hand on his shoulder. I catch his darkening, shocked eyes just before they roll back in his head, body abruptly slouching and turning slack before he completely collapses against the driveway.

With one last lingering glance toward Zeke's limp form, I turn my back on him and stare at the blazing home.

The entire house is burning in a sea of red, orange, and yellow. The flames are ripping their way through the wooden support beams that form the structure of the building. Heat is flowing off of the house, suffocating anything it surrounds.

I exhale sharply, set my jaw and square my shoulders, resolution marking my decision.

Zeke can't survive entering the house, but I can.

In a blur of movement, I barrel forward, tearing through the flames that dance along the porch. Smoke and flares of warmth curl around my frame, forcing a faint wince from me.

My hand stretches forward, but then halts when I feel the scolding heat that's radiating off the metal doorknob. So, without a second thought, I raise both of my palms in the direction of the door, and generate a ball of sheer power that circles around my hands. It glistens like water with milky swirls of shimmering white that represent angelic grace, and charcoal colored wisps of black that come from Lucifer's power, yet despite being opposites, they tangle around each other.

Bracing myself in a strong stance, I straighten my arms, launching the raw power at the masive rectangular door. I watch as it blows back off its hinges with a boom, crashing into the opposite side of the home, and getting buried beneath glowing flames that'll reduce it to ash.

I sprint into through the threshold of the home, and the fire makes quick work of creating a blazing wall over the doorway, covering it completely and efficiently trapping me in this furnace.

Flames lick up every wall in the house, circling around me and spreading quickly. Black, dense smoke pools around the ceiling, which hides it from view.

A cough reaches my ears from the higher floor, followed by pleas and cries for help.

I push away the panic that's steadily rising in my chest, and instead search for a way up. My eyes flicker over the interior of the home, before they land on the faint outline of a staircase that circles over the furthest wall to my left. It's almost completely consumed by flames, but I notice that at the highest point, the flames are short and sparse, having not yet spread to the top.

A rush of hoarse coughs are forced from my singed lungs due to all of the thick smoke I've inhaled. I suck in a sharp breath, stepping over debris, and narrowly avoiding the violent flames until I'm beneath the staircase.

I crouch slightly in preparation, eyes fixated on the white, wooden banister. With inhuman strength, I push off the ground, jumping at least twenty feet in the air. I desperately reach out for the round rails and just as I start falling, my right hand curls around one and leaves me swaying high above the burning ground.

A loud crack suddenly echoes through the air, and I quickly snap my head to the left, looking over my shoulder to find what created the sound. A gasp breaks through my lips, and my eyes widen when I see exactly what's happening behind me.

A charred, massive, wood beam, that had once been supporting the house near the front door, is falling to the ground in the direction of my dangling feet. I turn away, reaching up with my left hand to grasp another rail, before squeezing my eyes shut just as the burnt wood crashes to the floor right where I was last standing. A mass of ash and smoke bellows out from around it, rising toward me and forcing more coughs from my throat.

I quickly pull myself up with both hands, scrambling to grab the handrail while my feet barely fit on the ledge before I throw my body over the banister, my back slamming against the stairs.