Chapter 15
Tess
The transport magic dissolved around us. I blinked against the sudden brightness, my stomach twisting as though the ground had been yanked out from under me. A wave of dizziness hit, and I staggered slightly, pressing a hand to my temple.
"Whoa," I muttered, my voice shaky. "That... felt like being turned inside out and then put back together wrong. Is it supposed to feel like that?"
Mason’s hand brushed mine, steadying me with a reassuring squeeze. His dark eyes softened as he glanced down at me. "First time’s always rough," he said, his voice low and soothing. "You’ll get used to it. Just breathe through it, Tess."
I exhaled slowly, nodding, though the queasiness lingered. "I'll take your word for it," I murmured, trying to muster a smile.
Beside me, Mason adjusted his stance, already scanning our surroundings like the seasoned protector he was. Kane stood a few paces ahead, his posture as rigid and perfect as ever, his sharp gaze sweeping across the forest like he was calculating the next fifty moves in some cosmic chess game.
And then there was Raze, crouching low to the ground, his long fingers skimming the moss-covered dirt as if it held the secrets of the universe. His expression was unreadable, but there was a kind of reverence in the way he moved, like the forest itself demanded respect.
We were here. No turning back now.
Kane stepped forward, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Stay alert. We don’t know what’s waiting for us, and I doubt it’ll be friendly." He didn’t waste time, and neither could we.
“We each have a small backpack with the basics,” Kane said, his voice crisp and businesslike. He adjusted the strap of his own pack, which contained water bottles, knives, etcetera. “It’s not much, so we’ll need to ration carefully. And remember, using magic comes with consequences. We don’t know what those are yet, so we should avoid it unless absolutely necessary.”
We each took our packs and settled them on our backs.
Kane straightened, brushing pine needles from his clothes. "We have roughly forty-eight hours to get back," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We need to be smart about this. Split responsibilities based on our strengths."
"We'll need shelter before nightfall," Raze added, studying a set of deer tracks pressed into a patch of damp earth. "And these tracks suggest there's a water source nearby. Animals always know where to drink."
Kane nodded. "I'll handle navigation—both magical and physical. I know how to work with the terrain and keep us on the right path." He glanced at the sky, calculating. "If we push hard, we can cover significant ground before dark."
"What about the other teams?" I asked, remembering Selena's predatory smile.
"That's why we need Mason's instincts," Kane replied, turning to our largest teammate. "You'll watch our backs and scout for potential danger. You've always had a knack for sensing threats before they hit."
"Raze," Kane continued, "you're most familiar with the local flora and fauna. You'll take point on scouting and foraging. We'll need to find food along the way—we can't waste time stopping for long hunts."
Raze stepped forward, navigating around a fallen log covered in bright green moss. "The Guild buildings are in that direction," he said, pointing west where the terrain sloped upward into steeper, rockier ground. "I can tell."
I remembered Raze from the times Mason and Kane ate lunch together. Pretty sure he was a wolf shifter, always cracking jokes and lightening the mood. He seemed like the kind of guy who could keep things from getting too intense out here. And honestly, we could use that.
Kane pressed his palm to the earth, his eyes closing in concentration. The air around him hummed with elemental magic, rippling through the ground like waves on water. A nearby patch of wildflowers trembled in response to his power.
I lingered in silence, feeling a flare of uncertainty. Kane hadn’t assigned me anything. I wasn’t sure if it was an oversight or an intentional snub, but either way, it left me feeling like dead weight.
"He's right," Kane confirmed, opening his eyes. "I can feel the stone foundations of the Guild from here. Let's move. We'll look for a defensible position to make camp as we go—somewhere with water access and natural cover."
We started walking. Kane took point, his confident stride setting the pace through the dense forest. I followed a few steps behind, close enough to catch the subtle tension in his shoulders whenever he sensed something worth investigating but far enough to avoid crashing into him if he stopped suddenly.
Mason's solid presence at my back was reassuring—I could practically feel his protective aura radiating forward. Raze moved like a ghost through the trees around us, sometimes appearing on our left, sometimes our right, his keen eyes constantly scanning for threats or resources.
After watching the others navigate the rough terrain, I felt a surge of gratitude for that month-long backpacking trip I'd taken during college. While two full days of hiking seemed daunting after spending the last couple years buried in library books, at least I wasn't completely out of my element. The rhythm of walking brought back muscle memories I hadn't accessed in a while. Maybe I'd actually have something worthwhile to contribute to this challenge beyond just trying not to slow everyone down.
I stepped forward to walk beside Kane, my stride matching his pace. Our awkward interaction from a few days ago still lingered, but the tension needed addressing before it affected the group dynamic.
"This feels like more than just a survival test," I ventured. "Four people, all needing to make it back together... seems like they're testing how well we work as a unit."
Kane's sharp gaze flickered to me, considering. "Agreed. The requirement that all team members must reach the Guild or none qualify for dragon bonding is... telling." He paused, stepping over a fallen log with fluid grace. "Individual strength means nothing if we can't function cohesively."
The way he said it made me think about how different we all were—not just in personality, but in species. Each of us carried centuries of ingrained prejudices and power dynamics.
"I've noticed how tense things get between different species during training," I ventured carefully. "Makes me wonder about the bigger picture. I've been trying to wrap my head around the politics, the factions, the way supernatural species interact. And then there are the Dragon Riders, who seem to operate almost... above it all?"
Kane’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something sharp and calculating. “That’s because they are,” he said, his voice low and measured. “A Dragon Rider isn’t just a warrior. The bond between a Rider and their dragon is one of the most powerful connections in the world. It gives them not just physical strength, but influence. Political power.”
"So it's not just about riding dragons," I murmured, pieces clicking into place as we regained stable ground. The sound of a distant stream added a steady rhythm to our conversation.
"Exactly." Kane's eyes met mine, and for once, I saw respect there. "Dragons are rare, their Riders even rarer. The bond isn't just physical; it's magical, deep. That kind of connection gives a Rider authority most species can't challenge." He paused, studying me as a ray of sunlight broke through the canopy, illuminating the silver in his eyes. "It's why your candidacy is... controversial."
“And since I’m human…” I trailed off, the weight of that truth settling over me like a heavy cloak.
Kane’s lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Since you’re human, you’re an anomaly. The first of your kind to be chosen. That makes you dangerous. And in a world where power is everything, dangerous things are rarely left alone.”
“Great,” I muttered. “No pressure or anything.”
Kane actually smirked at that, the expression fleeting but there. “Consider it a compliment. Dangerous can be useful.”
The weight of his words settled over me. Before I could respond, movement caught my eye. Near the base of a large granite outcrop, half-hidden by sword ferns, familiar leaves swayed in the breeze.
"Wait," I called out, moving closer to inspect the plants. The soft earth gave slightly under my feet as I knelt. "I thought so. Chickweed. These are edible. High in nutrients, too." I examined the leaves more carefully, remembering hours spent studying botanical texts in the library. "We should gather some while we can."
Raze grinned, clearly impressed. He crouched beside me, inhaling deeply. "Nice catch. I can shift and catch us a rabbit later—make a proper meal of it. Plenty of them in these parts."
Mason stepped forward, his large frame casting a shadow over our impromptu foraging. "We should take a water break," he rumbled, already shrugging off the pack. "Getting dehydrated up here isn't something we want to deal with."
The concern in his voice was subtle but unmistakable. Mason’s hand brushed mine as he handed me the water bottle, and for a moment, I felt the warmth of his skin lingering against mine. His touch was always so gentle, despite the raw power he carried in his massive frame. I glanced up at him, catching the way his dark eyes softened when they met mine.
I didn’t want to admit how safe I felt with him nearby, like nothing in this wilderness could touch me as long as he was there. But did he feel the same? Or was I just another responsibility for him to bear?
"Thanks," I murmured, taking a long drink. The cool water was refreshing after the uphill climb.
Raze tilted his head suddenly, nostrils flaring as a breeze rustled through the clearing. A slow smile spread across his face. "Blackberries," he announced, turning slightly to the west. "And where there are blackberries, there's usually water. Two birds, one stone."
Kane took a final sip from his water bottle, passing it back to Mason. "That would make a decent lunch stop. How far?"
"Half mile, maybe less," Raze replied, already moving in that direction with predatory grace. "The scent's strong enough that they should be ripe."
"This is going surprisingly well," I commented as we fell into formation again, following Raze's lead. "Almost suspiciously well."
Mason grunted in agreement. "Which means we should stay alert. The Guild's tests are never this straightforward."
The way he said it sent a shiver down my spine, despite the warmth of the afternoon sun. He was right—things were going too smoothly. But for now, the promise of fresh blackberries and a water source was too good to pass up.
We continued our trek uphill, the terrain growing steeper with each step. Walking beside Kane was like being next to a live wire—his energy so focused, so intense. There was something magnetic about him, the way he seemed to know exactly where we were headed, his mind always two steps ahead. His rare smirks felt like small victories, and I found myself craving more of them, despite the guarded nature I saw in his eyes. What was it like to carry the weight of so much responsibility, to be so controlled all the time? And why did I want to be the one to make him lose that control, just for a moment?
As we crested a small rise, the scent of ripe berries grew stronger. Through a break in the trees, I spotted the dark clusters dotting thick brambles that bordered a clear, bubbling stream.
Kane crouched by the water’s edge, dipping his fingers into the stream. His eyes gleamed with focused concentration, the faintest shimmer of magic curling around his fingertips. "I can purify the water," he said, his voice low but certain. "Minimal spell. Shouldn't be an issue."
Mason gave a curt nod. "Necessary for survival. We can't afford to risk bad water out here."
Kane's hands moved with fluid precision, his fingers tracing a pattern in the air. The water shimmered briefly, then stilled. Mason pulled the water bottles out of the bag and headed toward the stream to fill them up.
"Done," Kane said, standing up and brushing his hands off on his pants. His eyes flicked toward the blackberry bushes. "While we're stopped, gather what you can. Berries won’t hold long, but they'll keep us going."
"Those are some beautiful berries," I said, already moving toward the bushes. The fruit hung in heavy clusters, perfectly ripe and glistening in the dappled sunlight.
Raze's eyes lit up as he surveyed the area. His nostrils flared again, and a predatory grin spread across his face. "I smell rabbit. Fresh meat would do us good." Without ceremony, he began stripping off his clothes.
"Really?" Kane arched an eyebrow.
I turned my gaze away quickly, feeling heat rise to my cheeks as Raze tossed his shirt aside. "You know, you could give a girl a little warning before you start peeling off layers," I teased, trying to sound casual even as my voice wavered slightly. My life had been a whirlwind of supernatural surprises lately, but public nudity still took some getting used to.
Raze’s grin widened, utterly shameless. "What? You want me to ruin perfectly good clothes?" He winked, his tone dripping with playful arrogance. "You’ll get used to it. Just part of the package when you hang out with supes."
I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms as I fought back a smirk. "Oh, I’m sure I will. It’s not like I don’t already have enough to adjust to."
A low chuckle escaped him as he kicked off his boots. "Be right back with dinner!" In one fluid motion, he shifted into a massive black wolf, his clothes left in a careless heap on the ground. The transformation was seamless, and before I could blink, he bounded into the underbrush with a burst of speed, a dark blur against the fading light.
I couldn’t help but smile despite myself, watching him disappear into the trees. His wolf form was breathtaking—powerful, primal, and unapologetically wild. It was a stark reminder of the untamed nature that lingered just beneath the surface of his human exterior.
We settled into gathering berries, working in comfortable silence. The fruit was sweet and perfectly ripe, juice staining our fingers purple. Twenty minutes later, Raze trotted back into view, two plump rabbits hanging from his jaws. He dropped them proudly before shifting back and pulling on his clothes.
"Double dinner," he announced with a grin, tossing the rabbits onto the ground near our pile of berries.
"Show-off," Kane muttered, but there was a faint hint of approval in his eyes. "We’ll cook them tonight. No point in carrying extra weight while they’re raw."
"We should eat the berries now," Mason suggested, his deep voice cutting through the conversation. "They'll just get crushed if we try to carry them."
We sat down in a loose circle, sharing the pile of berries between us. The mood lightened slightly. Raze stretched lazily, his long limbs sprawled out on the grass, while Mason leaned back against a tree.
A distant rumble drew our attention skyward. Dark clouds were building over the mountains to the west, their edges tinged with an ominous green.
"That's not good," Mason muttered, his expression darkening as another roll of thunder echoed through the valley.
Kane's eyes narrowed as he studied the approaching storm. "Those clouds... they're moving too fast to be natural."
A cold wind whipped through the clearing, carrying with it the sharp tang of ozone and something else—something that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
"We need to move," Kane said urgently, just as a flash of lightning illuminated the darkness within those clouds. For a split second, I could have sworn I saw something moving inside them—something massive and serpentine.
And it was heading straight for us.