Chapter 42 #2
"One embodies destruction."
"The other, creation."
The creature looked like something between a pegasus and a phoenix.
It possessed the powerful body of a horse.
Its vast wings were covered in violet feathers dusted with a faint emerald glow.
One equine head bore a long spiral horn.
The other had elegant elven ears.
Glancing around to make sure everyone in our group was distracted, I lowered my voice.
"Where have you all been?"
"Vacation," Louis answered with an even wider grin.
"And that," Aars snorted, "proves you never listen to me."
"I told you spirits are free to travel whenever the opportunity arises."
Right.
He had.
I'd completely forgotten.
"I'm delighted to see everyone gathered here tonight."
Azriella's warm voice echoed effortlessly across the plaza.
No microphone.
None was needed.
She stood proudly upon the marble stage, her gaze sweeping across the enormous crowd.
"Now..."
"I invite the Strongest Twelve to officially open this year's Selection."
Applause thundered through the plaza.
One after another, the members of the Twelve descended toward the dance floor.
Seris stopped beside me.
He wore a midnight-blue tailcoat embroidered with glittering threads that resembled blue flames dancing across the fabric.
"I've always loved this tradition," Seris said.
I barely heard him.
A tall blonde woman with warm bronze skin was already making her way toward Airis with effortless confidence.
Jealousy pierced straight through my chest.
She looked stunning in her vibrant orange gown, tailored perfectly to her figure.
"Who is she?" I whispered to Stasia.
"Bestla Monclair."
Her answer was short.
Flat.
"They're..." I began, but Loretta interrupted before I could finish.
"I've always wondered who gets lucky enough to dance with one of the Strongest Twelve."
I shot her a puzzled look.
Seris noticed.
"There are two more women than men among the Twelve," he explained.
I nodded.
Determined not to look toward the dance floor again.
I wasn't about to torture myself by watching something I already knew would hurt.
Truthfully...
I no longer wanted to be here at all.
"Want to grab something to eat?" I asked Stasia.
She nodded immediately.
She looked just as uncomfortable as I felt.
Still, I wasn't about to ask about her and Tarven.
Not yet.
We had barely taken a step when Dilraba's melodic voice reached us.
"Would you care to dance with me?"
She stood in front of Kaeron.
One of the Strongest Twelve.
Kaeron didn't even raise an eyebrow.
"You could always dance with me instead, beautiful."
Taylor flashed her a lazy grin.
Dilraba merely rolled her eyes before taking Kaeron's hand without another word.
"Come on."
Stasia rested a hand against my shoulder, gently steering me toward the banquet tables.
Halfway there—
someone stepped directly into my path.
Airis.
He regarded me with that familiar expression.
Cold.
Unreadable.
Just slightly annoyed.
I arched an eyebrow.
The nerve of him.
"I wasn't aware this was part of the dance floor," I said.
Touching Stasia's elbow, I tried to continue walking.
Airis didn't let me.
One hand caught mine.
The other settled firmly around my waist.
Before I could even react—
he lifted me clean off the ground.
A startled breath escaped me as he carried me through the crowd toward the center of the dance floor.
Every eye followed us.
By the time my feet touched the marble again, I still hadn't processed what had happened.
"What are you—"
"I made a few changes to this year's tradition."
His arm tightened around my waist.
I looked around in stunned silence.
Not far away, Stasia stood frozen beside Miloran.
Tarven was dancing with Rosalie.
Then my gaze found the blonde again.
Bestla.
She was glaring at me now—
while standing beside Taylor.
Only moments ago she'd been walking toward Airis.
"The Strongest," Airis said quietly,
"dance with the strongest this year."
The orchestra began to play.
A flicker of tension ran through me as I tried to remember everything Sabina and Suar had drilled into us.
Three days of dance lessons clearly hadn't been enough.
My balance still betrayed me whenever I had to think about it.
Airis, however, seemed to have no intention of letting me think.
He drew me closer until my chin rested lightly against his shoulder before slowly guiding us across the floor.
"If Sabina and Suar see us—"
"They won't care."
He cut me off before I could finish.
"And even if they do..."
"I don't."
His voice softened.
"I don't want you worrying about every step."
I let out a quiet breath.
Little by little, my body relaxed.
I deliberately kept my eyes away from the other couples.
"Whose idea was it to change the tradition this year?" I asked.
"I didn't want to watch you dance with someone else."
My traitorous heart melted instantly.
Unfortunately...
my brain was still trying to be reasonable.
Even though it desperately wanted to surrender.
"Well," I said lightly, "I imagine the blonde wasn't very happy."
His thumb traced a slow circle against the bare skin of my back.
A distraction.
A very effective one.
Still...
I refused to let him change the subject that easily.
"She'll survive."
Before I could answer, I felt the softest brush of his lips against my temple.
"You look beautiful."
"I'd rather spend this dance admiring you..."
"...than thinking about anyone else."
A smile spread across my face before I could stop it.
The rest of me followed.
Our movements became effortless.
Natural.
Completely different from dancing with Seris.
My body responded differently to Airis.
Everything felt...
right.
Honest.
As though I'd known these steps long before I'd ever learned them.
Maybe...
long before this lifetime.
"In your presence..."
His voice was barely more than a whisper.
"I don't know how to stay indifferent."
I looked up at him.
"Good."
I bit my lip to hide an even wider smile.
"Because I can't either."
The music faded far too quickly.
We came to a stop.
Only for Airis to lift me effortlessly once more, spinning me through the air before catching me against his chest again.
I laughed softly.
Then his expression changed.
It became serious.
"Before they send you into the labyrinth, Draksen will give his speech."
"I'll be waiting for you by the flower pavilion."
Something in his tone scratched uneasily at the edge of my thoughts.
"Why?"
He gently set me back on my feet.
But he never answered.
"Well," Azriella announced as applause swept across the ballroom once more, "it seems the Strongest Twelve had quite the surprise prepared for us this year."
"They chose to open the Selection by dancing with this year's strongest newcomers."
"And now..."
"let us look back on everything that brought us here..."
I barely heard another word.
Already making my way back toward my group, I watched as more and more people returned from the dance floor, slowly filling the space around us once again.
Anastasia Lang's POV
While memories from teachers and students shimmered across the night sky, I drifted toward the banquet tables.
So did Ria, Seris, and Pria.
I had just picked up another canapé when a familiar voice beside me made my hand jerk.
I nearly dropped it.
"So..." Tarven said.
"You chose Miloran over me?"
I turned toward him.
He looked... unfairly handsome.
His deep green suit, embroidered with gold, matched my own dress so well that, at first glance, anyone could have mistaken us for a pair.
I immediately shoved that thought aside.
Enough.
My heart had played enough games with my mind.
"What do you mean?" I asked lightly before popping the canapé into my mouth.
A mistake.
It was much larger than I'd expected.
I hurriedly covered my mouth as I struggled not to choke.
"You chose Miloran as your mentor?"
My eyes widened.
"What?"
I barely managed to swallow.
"Where did that come from?"
Without saying a word, Tarven picked up a glass of punch from the table beside us and handed it to me.
I gratefully took a long sip before answering.
"I danced with him."
"Yes."
"He asked."
I shrugged.
"Why would I say no?"
I tried to keep the conversation light.
Tarven clearly had other plans.
"Don't you think you're taking this a little too seriously..."
"...for someone who's supposed to be my best friend?"
"I'm worried about you."
A small smile found my lips.
The armor around my heart remained firmly in place.
Setting the empty glass back onto the table, I nodded toward Rosalie, who was chatting with Dilraba nearby.
"You already have someone to worry about."
He didn't answer.
For the first time in a long while...
I genuinely didn't know what to say.
More importantly—
I couldn't understand him.
His behavior made no sense to me.
Thankfully...
the thought that he might actually like me had never even crossed my mind.
"I think I can manage both," he said with a small shrug.
One eyebrow lifted.
A quiet laugh escaped me.
"I don't think so."
"And now," Azriella's voice rang across the plaza, "please welcome Headmaster Draksen Ardevain."
Her announcement pulled me back to reality.
Back to the present.
I couldn't afford to lose myself in thoughts about Tarven.
Not now.
I needed to think about myself.
And about the vision I desperately hoped would never come true.
Illariana Arden's POV
Draksen's voice echoed somewhere behind me, but I didn't even try to listen.
My eyes searched for the flower-covered columns leading to the pavilion.
I only wanted to find Airis.
A strange unease had settled deep inside my chest.
I couldn't tell whether it came from the Selection...
or from him.
It felt as though I were standing on a buried mine, waiting for the inevitable explosion.
Was this simply my reaction to the seriousness in his voice?
It hadn't sounded like him.
Stopping beside one of the flower-covered columns, I breathed in the sweet fragrance rising from the blossoms below before peering into the pavilion.
Among the softly glowing flowers...
I found him.
Airis.