31. CHAPTER 31
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Light pressed hard against my eyelids, too bright, too sharp. The smell of herbs burned in my nose, but underneath it—blood, iron, smoke.
Hands dragged me across stone, my heels scraping raw. Voices bent in strange echoes, overlapping until I couldn’t tell one from another.
“She’s the proof.”
“Her blood will open the door her father closed.”
“Imagine it—Fae strength, shifter rage, Nosferatu hunger—one body.”
Chains bit my wrists again, and I tasted copper on my tongue. I tried to scream, but my voice came out in someone else’s throat, thin and broken. Another voice rose clearer than the rest, low and certain, the one I couldn’t forget. “He began it. We’ll finish it.”
The words cut sharper than the blows ever had.
I jerked awake, heart racing, throat raw. White ceiling beams swam into focus above me. Linen sheets tangled my legs. The infirmary.
My head felt clearer—still sore and confused, but the thick fog had lifted. The first thing I noticed was Zane, still seated in the same chair, holding my hand as if he hadn’t moved since I last closed my eyes. His eyes were closed now, head tilted forward so a lock of dark hair fell over his face.
“Zane,” I rasped.
His head snapped up like he’d been waiting for that exact sound. Relief flashed through his eyes, tempered by something more profound I couldn’t quite name—until the memory struck me.
“You told me you love me.”
For a heartbeat, he didn’t answer. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away. “I did. And I meant every word. ”
A thousand emotions crowded in—shock, warmth, the fear of what it meant. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You should know… I love you too. I think I have for a while. I—” My voice cracked, and I hated it. “I didn’t want to risk losing you if I said it out loud.”
His hand tightened on mine, steady and grounding. “You couldn’t lose me if you tried, Auri.”
I let out a shaky breath, closing my eyes before opening them again. “Stay. At least until I fall asleep again.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, shifting his chair closer so his arm rested on the edge of the cot. His thumb brushed over my knuckles—slow and sure.
A female in solid black robes—a mender, judging by the last traces of magic fading from her hands—came in quietly.
“You’re a stubborn one,” she said with a wry smile. “Most cadets don’t come back from a brain bleed this severe, even with magic.”
I swallowed, my fingers twitching in Zane’s. “You… healed me?”
She inclined her head. “Completely. The damage is gone. But even with mending, brain injuries are unpredictable. They’re…
resistant. Magic can knit bone, seal skin, even mend muscle without a scar—but the brain is more delicate.
The wrong spell, too much power, and we risk losing memories, changing personalities—even killing you.
We had to work slowly, carefully. You’re lucky he found you when he did. ”
Her gaze flickered to Zane, who still looked halfway ready to hunt someone down.
I glanced between them. “So… no lasting damage?”
“No,” she assured me. “But you’ll be monitored for the next few days—headaches, confusion, any changes in speech or balance.
You’re actually free to go, but you’ll need to check in at your wing’s infirmary.
And Auriella…” She fixed me with a steady look.
“You push yourself harder than most. Don’t test the limits of recovery.
You got a second chance. Don’t make me regret giving it to you. ”
When she left, Zane leaned closer, his voice low. “Told you. I’ll always find you. ”
The tightness in my chest eased enough to breathe finally. “Guess I owe you my life now.”
He shook his head, eyes holding mine with unwavering intensity. “You owe me nothing. Please… don’t scare me like that again.”
***
Less than an hour after leaving the infirmary, we got word to report to Kamban’s office. The command wing felt colder than usual. Tension crackled in the air of the conference room. Major General Kamban sat at the head of the table, posture rigid, eyes hard as flint.
We filed in—Lili, Alex, Eli, Oliver, Zane and me—and lined up along the far wall. The silence dragged out, sharp and oppressive.
When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet but dangerous. “You left this college without orders. You violated restricted flight protocols, exposed two bonded dragons to unsecured airspace, and engaged hostiles without proper support. That level of insubordination could’ve gotten all of you killed.”
His gaze sliced across each of us—sharp as any blade. “Let me make one thing clear—this is not a fucking playground. There are no second chances out there. If you break protocol again—well, let’s not.”
The threat lingered over us like a storm about to break. As the air felt ready to snap, Kamban leaned back, his expression shifting—merely a fraction—toward something soft.
“That being said..." His tone softened just slightly, enough to notice the change.
“You managed to bring back General Blackcreek’s daughter alive.
If we had lost her..." He exhaled slowly, the sound weighty and purposeful. “It wouldn’t have only been a personal tragedy. It would have been a fucking political disaster. The sort that topples commands, fractures alliances, and leaves us open to every enemy willing to circle for the kill. ”
He looked me over, and for the first time, there was something almost—almost—real in his eyes. “You saved her. That’s not something I can ignore.”
The steel slid back into his voice. “So, here’s how it goes: extra watch duty, no weekend privileges. Two weeks. And when it’s over, you’ll remember your goddamn orders aren’t suggestions.”
“Am I actually being disciplined for being kidnapped?” I cocked my brow.
Kamban’s gaze pinned me—hard enough to bruise. “You were the objective, Cadet Blackcreek. You were the whole fucking reason they risked breaking protocol. Whether you like it or not, your presence raises the stakes. You don’t get to be careless.”
“I didn’t exactly sign up to get kidnapped,” I shot back, my brow going higher.
“Exactly,” he snapped. “Which is why you will learn from this—how to never be a fucking liability again.” His stare froze me. “In this world, being taken is as much a failure as not coming back. Do better.”
The silence after was colder than the wind outside.
“Two weeks,” he reiterated, rising as if the gods had decreed it. “Extra watch. No weekends. And if I have to rescue any of you from a situation like this again, you won’t be standing in my office.”
The office door thudded shut behind us, echoing down the corridor. The others peeled away in silence—footsteps fading—until it was only Zane and I standing under the shitty corridor lights.
I could still feel the weight of Kamban’s words coiled in my chest. “Am I supposed to feel grateful for that?”
Zane’s jaw flexed. “Grateful you’re alive? Yeah. For him? Fuck no.”
I stopped, making him turn. “You heard him—being taken is as much a failure as not coming back. Like I had a fucking choice.”
He stepped close, his voice low. “That’s the thing, Auri. In his world, there’s always a choice. And you either make the right one, or someone else pays for it.”
Anger flared in my chest. “I did fight. ”
“I know you did,” he said, voice firm but not unkind. “I saw what you did to those bastards. That’s not the point.”
“What the fuck is the point?” I snapped.
He didn’t look away. “The point is, you’re here. And I’m not letting him—or anyone—use what happened to shove you in a corner. But you have to keep your head, because next time, I might not get there in time.”
His words landed like a punch I wasn’t ready for. My throat tightened, but I didn’t look away. “You always find me.”
His lips pressed into a hard line. “I always fucking will. But I’d rather not have to drag you out of another cell to prove it.”
For a moment, the hall was all bristling tension and breath between us. He jerked his head toward the exit. “Come on, little Savage. Let’s get out of here before someone else decides to chew our asses.”
We stepped out into the cool night, Kamban’s office still clinging to us. Zane stayed close, his eyes already scanning the courtyard like he was hunting the next threat.
After a moment, he asked, “Do you know how to ward your room?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. It’s now on my priority list.”
His jaw tightened, that protective fury flaring. “That’s not good enough, Auri. Not after tonight.”
I smirked. “You offering to teach me?”
“I’m not offering,” he said, “I’m fucking doing it. Now.”
Before I could argue, his hand found mine—warm, solid—and in the next heartbeat, all the air rushed out of my lungs as he roved us straight into my chamber. The world blurred and then solidified around us.
He didn’t let go until he checked every corner, every shadow, every window with a warrior’s caution. “Close the windows.”
I moved, curiosity punching through my exhaustion. “So… what’s the difference between a basic ward and yours?”
He shot me a sharp look over his shoulder. “Mine actually keeps some bastard out.”
Concentration flickered across his face. I couldn’t see a damn thing, but magic prickled in the air. “You’ll learn this. Over the year, your magic will keep getting stronger. No one gets in unless you say so. Other than me—that’s it.”
“Well, that’s fucking convenient.”
He grinned. “You can pull anyone in, if you want, but you have to do it each time.”
He stood by the door, staring at me, calm but dead serious, waiting for my next move.
Slowly, he crossed the space between us, likely teasing me. When he reached me, he didn’t touch—not yet. Standing inches away from me, I felt the heat radiating off him, the steady press of his presence pushing out any negative thoughts.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he murmured.
I tilted my chin up. “Not the first time you’ve said that.”