The Fire Nation Prince

Chapter 36: The Prince and the Prisoner

”Water. Earth. Fire. Air. Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony. Then, everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked. Only the Avatar, master of all four elements, could stop them. But when the world needed him most, he vanished.”

Zuko’s voice was low, almost reverent, as he recited the words to Katara. She stood in the corner of his lavish chambers, dressed in a flowing red Fire Nation gown, silk clinging to her curves, gold embroidery glinting in the candlelight. The dress was beautiful, but it wasn’t hers. Just like this room, this palace, this life, none of it was hers.

She crossed her arms. ”Do you know who those words remind me of?” he asked, staring into the flickering flames of the hearth.

”Your mother?” Katara guessed, her voice tight.

Zuko turned, his golden eyes locking onto hers. ”You, actually.” A faint, unreadable smile touched his lips. ”And hopefully, one day, I can tell you why… and who spoke them to me.”

Katara’s brow furrowed. ”What am I doing here, Zuko? The banquet’s over. Everyone’s left. You don’t need to keep me around anymore.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. ”Remember our deal, Katara. You stay with me, and nothing happens to your brother.”

Before she could retort, his hand rose, a single finger pressing against his lips in a silent shush.

Then he was in front of her—so close she could feel his breath on her skin, warm and tinged with the scent of spiced wine. Her cheeks burned. Her pulse hammered in her throat.

”Are you willing to admit how much you’ve missed me, Azula?” he suddenly called out, loud enough to startle her.

In one swift motion, he reached past Katara and shoved open the door beside her—revealing Azula standing there, poised as if she’d just arrived. Behind her, two familiar faces lingered: Mai, her bored expression unchanged, and Ty Lee, bouncing on her toes with forced cheer.

Zuko’s gaze flickered over them. Mai, his childhood infatuation, looked as disinterested as ever, her dark eyes half-lidded. Ty Lee, meanwhile, was all smiles, her ample chest straining against her tight acrobat’s top. His eyes lingered there for a heartbeat too long, his fingers twitching with the absurd impulse to touch…

”Well, what do we have here?” Azula’s voice sliced through his thoughts.

Zuko ignored her for a beat, nodding to the others. ”Long time,” he said flatly.

”Welcome back, Prince Zuko!” Ty Lee chirped, though her usual pep was strained. ”Sorry we couldn’t greet you at the reception!”

Mai merely shrugged. ”You look… alive.”

Zuko barely suppressed an eye roll. The old him might’ve swooned over her apathy. Now? She was about as exciting as wet sand.

Azula’s sharp eyes darted to Katara. ”Who is she?”

”A girl I took from the Southern Water Tribe,” Zuko said, shrugging. ”Growing up at sea, a man has needs. She takes care of those needs.”

Katara’s face burned with humiliation.

”What needs?” Ty Lee blinked innocently.

Mai sighed. ”Sexual needs,” she muttered, as if explaining to a child.

Azula’s lips curled. ”So you’ve got yourself a wh…”

CRACK.

Zuko moved faster than thought. His hand snapped out, catching Katara’s wrist just before her palm could connect with Azula’s face. The air between them sizzled with tension.

For a heartbeat, no one breathed.

Then…

WHOOSH!

Azula’s fury erupted in a blast of blue fire, aimed directly at Katara’s heart.

Zuko yanked Katara against his chest, spinning them both out of harm’s way as the flames scorched the wall behind them.

”YOU DARE TOUCH ROYALTY?!” Azula shrieked, lunging.

”BACK OFF, AZULA!”

Zuko’s roar was a physical force, a torrent of fire exploding from his mouth like a dragon’s wrath. The flames forced Azula to stagger back, her eyes wide with shock.

In the aftermath, Zuko gently lowered Katara onto the bed, his hands surprisingly tender as he checked her for burns. ”Are you alright?” he murmured, his voice softer than she’d ever heard it.

Katara stared up at him, stunned.

The concern in his eyes was real. The way his fingers brushed her arm, careful, almost protective, it wasn’t an act.

Why?

Why did he care?

One moment, he was parading her as a conquest. The next, shielding her like she mattered.

Was this what Aang meant? Was this the truth behind the mask?

Then, like a snuffed candle, the warmth vanished.

Zuko stood, his back rigid as he faced Azula.

”What. Do. You. Want.”

His voice was ice and venom, dripping with a killing intent so palpable it made even Azula hesitate.

The air turned to knives.

The aura radiating from him was suffocating, a predator’s stillness, a promise of violence held back by sheer will. For the first time, Azula hesitated.

‘Just how could he have changed so much?’

Ty Lee, ever the peacemaker, broke the silence with a nervous laugh. “We actually had a message from your father!” she chirped, though her usual cheer was strained. “He thought, since you seemed to have missed your sister so much, it would be best if we delivered the news. And since we didn’t get a chance to greet you earlier, we, uh… decided to join her!”

Mai, leaning against the doorframe with her usual disinterest, added nothing.

Zuko’s gaze never left Azula. “What is the message?”

Azula exhaled through her nose, her composure sliding back into place like a well-worn mask. “Father wants to go over ceremony details tomorrow in the war chamber,” she said, her voice clipped. “He also said your firsthand knowledge of the Southern Earth Kingdom provinces would be invaluable. They’re preparing to escalate operations there.”

Her tone was so detached, so professional, it was as if the near-fatal confrontation moments ago had never happened.

Without another word, Azula turned on her heel and strode out, her cape flaring behind her. Mai followed without a backward glance, but Ty Lee lingered for a heartbeat, her eyes darting between Zuko and Katara. There was something unreadable in her expression, curiosity? Concern?

Then she, too, was gone.

Zuko shut the door with a sharp click.

For a moment, he just stood there, his palm pressed against the polished wood, his breathing slow and controlled. But beneath the surface, rage coiled in his chest like a serpent, its venom burning through his veins. It was painful, this anger, a physical weight pressing against his ribs, his throat, his skull.

He couldn’t hold It in.

With a guttural roar, he threw his head back and unleashed a torrent of fire straight upward, the flames licking the ceiling black. The heat seared his lungs, but the release was worth it, if only for the fleeting second of relief.

Then it was over.

His shoulders slumped as he turned, his eyes landing on Katara, still seated on the edge of his bed. She was watching him, her blue eyes wide, her fingers clutching the fabric of her borrowed Fire Nation dress.

Shit.

He’d forgotten she was even there for a moment.

Zuko dragged a hand down his face and crossed the room, sinking onto the mattress beside her. His mind was a storm—Azula’s taunts, his own outburst, the way he’d snapped like a frayed wire.

Why?

He didn’t just protect Katara. He’d shielded her. Risked exposing himself. For what?

His thoughts spiraled. He lusted after Azula, that was no secret to himself. His ambitions were clear: claim her, dominate her, make her his in every way. But Katara…

Was she just a pawn? A hostage?

Then why did the thought of Azula’s flames touching her make his blood boil?

A soft voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Thank you.”

Zuko blinked. Katara was staring at the floor, her voice barely above a whisper.

“If you’d actually slapped her,” he admitted gruffly, “I don’t know what I could’ve done to save you. Touching royalty is a death sentence, Katara. Like I told you that day, until all my rights are fully restored, my power has limits.”

“I understand,” she murmured.

But her voice was thick, her breathing uneven. Zuko frowned. Was she…?

He leaned closer, studying her. Her shoulders trembled slightly; her fingers clenched and unclenched in her lap. And then he heard it—the faintest sniffle, the hitch in her breath.

‘She’s trying not to cry.’

Something in his chest twisted.

Without thinking, he reached out, his hand hovering over her shoulder. “Are you sure she didn’t hurt you?”

Katara didn’t answer. But the way she curled in on herself, the way her breath shuddered, told him everything.

Zuko acted on instinct.

He climbed onto the bed fully, his movements slow but deliberate, and pulled her against his chest. To his surprise, she didn’t resist. No flinch, no stiffening—just a quiet surrender as she turned her face into his tunic, her body molding against his.

Her warmth seeped Into him, her heartbeat a rapid flutter against his ribs.

“Everything will be fine, Katara,” he murmured, his voice softer than he’d ever heard it. “Please… trust me when I say that.”

He didn’t know why he said it. Didn’t know why he meant it.

But as her fingers curled into his shirt, as her silent tears dampened the fabric over his heart, Zuko realized something terrifying:

He cared.

And that changed everything.

[A/N: Can’t wait to see what happens next? Get exclusive early access on .com/saiyanprincenovels.]