Shelby Manor – Late Evening
The tension in the air was thick, like the quiet before a storm. London's night had fallen, and the lights of the manor flickered in the distance as though they, too, were uncertain whether they should stay alight.
James paced the study, the weight of the prophecy heavy in his chest. He hadn't told Tommy everything. The part about the prophecy, about the ancient power he'd felt stirring within himself. But it was growing, like wildfire, and soon, it would consume him if he didn't find a way to control it.
The fire wasn't just a gift—it was a curse. He could feel it in his blood, this strange warmth that pulsed beneath his skin, whispering at the edge of his mind, urging him to embrace it. To let it take over. To burn.
But he wasn't ready.
Not yet.
The door opened with a creak, and Arthur stepped in, his face grim. He carried something in his hands: an old, weathered book, wrapped in cloth.
"What's this?" James asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Something Tommy found," Arthur said, setting the book on the desk. "Polly thinks it's connected to your mother. A way to understand the prophecy. Maybe even how to control the fire inside you."
James hesitated, glancing at the book. It was old—older than anything he'd ever seen before. The cover was adorned with strange symbols, and the edges were frayed as if it had been passed down through generations.
"Open it," Arthur said quietly.
With a deep breath, James picked it up. The moment his fingers brushed the cover, he felt a spark—a shock, as if the book itself recognized him. He opened it slowly, careful not to damage the fragile pages.
The first page was written in the same language as the prophecy Tommy had shown him earlier. But there was something different about this. The symbols seemed to pulse on the page, almost alive.
"I think it's calling to you," Arthur said, his voice low.
James nodded, feeling the same pull. There was something about these words that felt familiar. Like they were meant for him.
A Warning
That night, James couldn't sleep. His mind raced, consumed by the book and the prophecy, and by the unsettling feelings he had about Tatiana. He needed to speak to her—to understand what she was really offering.
But before he could make up his mind, there was a knock at his door.
"James," Tommy's voice called from the other side.
He opened the door to find his brother, eyes narrowed with concern.
"We've got a problem," Tommy said. "The Economic League—they've made their move. They're pushing too hard. We can't keep dodging them."
James's heart sank. He had known this day would come. The League wouldn't just sit back and watch the Shelbys build their empire. They'd already shown their hand in small ways, but now, they were coming for everything.
"I know," James said, swallowing the lump in his throat. "But we can't give in to them. We have to hit back."
Tommy nodded, eyes hard. "We will. But we need to be smart. We can't fight them head-on without risking everything. We need to make them think we're weaker than we are."
James felt the weight of his brother's words.
They had to play a careful game. The Peaky Blinders were strong, but the Economic League was more than just a rival—they were a shadow, a presence that lurked in every corner of London, pulling strings from the shadows.
"We'll be ready," James said, clenching his fists. "But there's something else I need to do first."
Tommy looked at him, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "What's that?"
James hesitated. "I need to understand what's inside me. The fire. The prophecy. And I need to speak to Tatiana. I need answers."
Tommy studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. "Be careful, James. I don't trust her. I know you're blinded by her, but remember, we're in dangerous territory now."
"I know," James said. "But I can't ignore it. Whatever is happening to me... it's a part of who I am. And I need to control it."
Tommy nodded, but the worry in his eyes lingered.
A Dangerous Alliance
Later that evening, James found himself in the same dark, velvet-lined room of the Russian estate where he had first met Tatiana. The air was heavy with the scent of candles and incense, and the shadows in the corners seemed to writhe with a life of their own.
Tatiana was waiting for him.
She was draped in black, her eyes dark and unreadable. She looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and something else—something deeper, more primal.
"You came," she said, her voice like silk. "I wasn't sure you would."
James didn't speak at first. He studied her, trying to see past the surface. The fire inside him pulsed again, but this time, it was different. More dangerous.
"Tatiana," he said finally. "I need answers. The prophecy. The fire. Everything."
Her lips curled into a knowing smile. "You're starting to understand, aren't you?"
James nodded. "What am I? Why me?"
She took a step closer, her hand brushing against his. "You are the flame, James. You are both the destruction and the salvation. You carry the power of your ancestors, but you are not bound by them. You can choose. You can burn everything down... or you can build something new."
"Build something new?" James echoed, his voice strained. "How?"
"By embracing what's inside you," she said, her gaze intense. "But first, you must learn to control it. The fire must not consume you, James. You must become the master of it."
He felt the pull—the need to understand, to break free from the darkness that threatened to overtake him.
"I need to know how," he said quietly.
Tatiana smiled, her eyes glinting. "I'll show you."
The Final Choice
As the night wore on, James and Tatiana delved deeper into the rituals of the ancient gypsies. The fire inside him responded to her touch, to her words. It burned hotter with each passing moment, threatening to consume him.
Tatiana's guidance was both intoxicating and dangerous. She whispered ancient words, words that seemed to bind him to her. The flame within him flickered—alive, aware, waiting.
As dawn broke, James felt it.
He wasn't the man he used to be. The fire had changed him. The prophecy was no longer just a warning. It was his destiny.