The Original Dream Behind Bound by Fire
The Original Dream Behind Bound by Fire
Good morning, or afternoon, wherever you are. Hello, hello. Let’s talk about Bound by Fire.
When I started writing little by little back in 2023, I had no idea that a single dream would become the foundation for my first novel. And since so many of you have asked about how it all began, I thought it’d be fun (and mildly embarrassing) to share the OG dream that started everything.
If you’ve never read Bound by Fire... honestly, I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t recommend it either.
I made so many rookie mistakes. Ones that still make me cringe. When I later wrote When He Stayed and finally found my niche, I almost pulled Bound by Fire off the shelves entirely. I was ready to burn it (ironically fitting title, right?).
But my beta readers begged me not to. They reminded me that even if it’s flawed, it’s still a story worth keeping and tell the world, and they were right. As a storyteller, I know what it feels like when something you love just... ends. So, I let it stay.
I may not love the book, but I love my characters deeply. They’re the reason I still talk about it.
It all began with Celeste. She didn’t even have a name in my dream. I borrowed it later from Animal Crossing: New Horizons. I always loved how rare it was to spot Celeste at night in the game, and I wanted my Celeste to feel the same way: beautiful, rare, and fleeting.
In my dream, she was part of a military team where relationships were strictly forbidden, but it was obvious she had feelings for someone. That someone was Mark.
Now, before you imagine the Mark you know from the books—stop. OG Mark was a completely different person.
He wasn’t the cocky menace we know and (sometimes) love. He wasn’t stirring trouble in Eric’s kitchen or pushing Andrew’s buttons for fun. Nope. Dream-Mark was kind, patient, and balanced out Andrew’s temper. I know—wild. Who was this guy?
The team in my dream was the same core we have now: Celeste, Andrew, Mark, James, Eric, and Mae (fun fact: Mae was originally a male character, inspired by Maes Hughes from Fullmetal Alchemist—a tribute to his sacrifices in the military).
In the dream, Celeste and Mark were in love but never acted on it. A few stolen glances, maybe a brush of hands—that’s it. The feelings were obvious, but they both stayed loyal to the rules.
Then came Andrew. And dream-Andrew? Oh, he was angry. All the time. He wanted to be the best—the strongest elite soldier. When Celeste joined the academy, he resented her for holding back her true power. She was stronger than she let on, but terrified of losing control again after her powers first awakened.
Andrew hated that. He wanted her to push harder, to fight him with everything she had. And maybe... that’s why he fell in love with her.
Fast forward: the team’s grown up, now part of the Elite. Their mission? Stop Ashland from building a bridge to No Man’s Land, which had become a fortress for rogue Supers and Supernaturals. Andrew finally gets what he wanted. He’s the team leader.
But when Celeste sees a missile headed straight for Mark and Eric, she breaks rank to save them. She fails. Eric survives but loses an eye. Mark doesn’t make it.
Celeste loses control. Andrew watches from a distance as she unleashes a godlike storm of power, annihilating everything Ashland had built.
Afterward, the team retrieves her, and Condinia cleans up the aftermath.
Three years later, Andrew and Celeste are together—quietly, secretly. And then one night, there’s a knock at her door.
It’s Mark.
Alive.
The floor drops out from under her. Condinia had used nanotech to rebuild him, experimenting with his body as a living weapon. His power of super strength remained, but now he could disassemble and reform into thousands of tiny bots. His consequence? Agonizing pain every time it happened.
And when he reaches for her—when he tells her he’s been alive all this time, training in secret, Celeste freezes. Because now she has a choice.
Andrew, the man who stayed.
Or Mark, the one who returned.
And that’s where the dream ended.
That dream stuck with me for months. I didn’t want to hurt Andrew. I didn’t want to abandon Mark. So, like any conflicted storyteller, I rewound the story.
I decided to start earlier with Celeste and Andrew’s beginning and grow from there.
But as I wrote, Mark began to change. The kind, calm Mark wasn’t creating the tension I needed. The story needed fire. So I gave him a spoon and told Theo to let him stir the pot.
And wow... did he stir it.
Mark became deliciously dangerous, unpredictable, and messy in the ways I needed. That’s when the story truly came alive. Mark was my gasoline.
There’s still more from the original dream that I haven’t shared because I’m saving it for Book Three.
Yes, you heard me right. That old storyline? It’s being reborn.
But for now, enjoy a deleted scene that I had in the first edition, but changed entirely. In the first edition, Celeste's triggers were called: Emotional Triggers. And the team was trying to help her firgure out those triggers that would unlock her power before Luther did... again. However, because Mark is a morally gray character, here's how he uses it to his advantage. Enjoy this deleted scene!
Deleted scene: Sometime after unlocking lightning:
The library was empty, the air still and heavy with the scent of paper and dust. Shafts of late light slanted through the tall windows, painting the floor in fractured gold.
Celeste wouldn’t have agreed to this if she hadn’t been utterly drained. Her patience, her logic, all wrung out. Mark had theories, and theories could be wrong. Yet here she was, standing in the middle of the silence, eyes closed, feeling absurd.
Mark’s voice cut through the quiet, low and steady. “Don’t think. Feel.”
Her brow twitched. “This is stupid.”
A small smile curved at the corner of his mouth. “It’s science.”
“This is not science.”
He moved closer. Not touching, but near enough that she could sense him. His warmth, the faint shift of his weight against the creaking floorboards.
“Intensity, Cel,” he murmured. “That’s what triggers you, right?”
She let out a tight breath. “So?”
“So…” His tone dipped, quiet enough to make her pulse skip. “Feel it.”
Something between them had changed.
She could sense him now. The heat rolling from his skin. The soft rasp of his breath. The faint scent of smoke that always clung to him, like fire remembered.
His fingers brushed hers, barely there, a whisper of contact.
“Don’t think,” he said, voice roughened by restraint.
The touch slid up, tracing her wrist, featherlight. Then higher, along her arm.
He leaned in close enough that she felt his breath graze her cheek.
“Feel it.”
Celeste drew in a breath that caught somewhere in her chest. And then… nothing. No spark. No static under her skin. No rush of energy waiting to ignite. Only silence.
Mark tilted his head, studying her like the answer might still appear if he looked hard enough.
Then, just before their lips met, he whispered, “This is intensity.” and he kissed her. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t soft. It was deliberate, grounded, and certain; a test turned into something real.
But Celeste felt nothing. No flicker. No current. No pull. Her mind stayed blank.
How disappointing. She thought.
She pushed him away, firm but not harsh.
Mark stumbled back, surprise flashing across his face before he caught himself. He ran a hand through his hair, the motion loose, uncertain. “Well. Guess that theory was wrong.”
Celeste said nothing. Her gaze held his, unreadable, until he looked away.
When he finally met her eyes again, the grin he wore was weaker. “What’d you feel?”
Celeste blinked once. Twice.
He waited, something quieter lingering behind the smirk, something dangerously close to hope.
She straightened, shoulders squaring as if returning from a fight. “Guess that didn’t work.”
His expression flickered, barely there before he masked it. “Yeah,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess not.”
The quiet settled again, deep and unbroken.
Celeste turned toward the shelves and pulled a book at random, opening it without care.
“That’s it?” he asked.
She nodded. “That’s it.”
He huffed out a small laugh, something half amused, half resigned. “Huh.”
“Mm.”
Mark rocked back on his heels, hands sinking into his pockets. “Alright then.”
She kept her eyes on the page pretending to read, though the words blurred.
He lingered a moment longer, then said lightly, “Relax, Cel. I won’t tell Andrew.”
Her head lifted sharply. “Mark.” a warning.
But he was already walking away, boots echoing against the marble floor until the sound faded down the hall.
Celeste exhaled slowly. The stillness returned, pressing close.She turned another page she hadn’t read.
Move on. Forget it. It never happened.
That was the plan. And she’d stick to it. No matter what.
Follow my journey through the Bound Series and beyond on Instagram: @vanlacar New stories are stirring in the dark. Stay tuned for Bound by Secrets coming February 2026.
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