31. Max
MAX
P rince Aelindor walked into our class like he owned not just the land but the air above it. He’d leashed his power. Still, its signature prevailed like aged fine wine.
I wanted to take his scent into my lungs and hold it there. I wanted to lean into his presence, curl my toes, and purr. But in reality, my face flushed scarlet, and all I wanted was to dig a hole and die in it.
He’d heard everything. I was sure of it.
“I’m looking forward to two nights. Or even three. Prince Caspian is a ten.”
What kind of idiot said things like that? I bit my lip. I needed to explain. I was being sarcastic. He had to know that. But my low, flat voice made sarcasm sound like a sworn statement. No one ever got my humor. In the mine, my jokes always landed like wet rocks.
Instructor Greer bowed. “Your Highness.”
Every cadet snapped to attention and saluted.
I held myself rigid as his power pressed against my skin—warm, intimate, settling between my shoulder blades like a palm placed there by someone who knew exactly where you ached. The warmth sank deeper. Pooled in my chest, coiled low in my belly.
With Caspian, it was a jolt. With Nikolai, cool hunger. With Aelindor, a slow burn that started when he entered a room and didn’t stop until long after he’d left.
I wasn’t the only one affected. Around me, cadets leaned forward on their feet, pulled toward him involuntarily.
None of them stood a chance, and they knew it.
Cadets pined for Caspian, Drakken, and Nikolai, but no one dreamed about landing Prince Aelindor.
He existed at a different altitude. Almost a god in this kingdom.
And yet the pull was there, natural, biological, helpless.
Even the male cadets gazed at the heir with something close to worship.
“At ease,” Aelindor said, nodding at the instructor.
His deep blue gaze found me. Then it tracked to the fireballs and ice shards still dancing on either side of me in their lazy orbit. An amused smile ghosted his lips.
“Looks like the training has been productive.”
I wasn’t going to rat out my fellow cadets. We’d be comrades on a battlefield one day. I’d rather build trust than collect enemies. These women weren’t Slade and Kevin. Petty, not murderous. I knew the difference.
“I can explain, Your Highness,” Instructor Greer started. Her face flushed. Even she wasn’t immune. I caught her fighting the urge to fan herself.
Aelindor flicked his wrist. The fire and ice snuffed out. Erased.
That Fae is very powerful, the demon chimed in, appreciative.
Aelindor raised two fingers to stop the instructor. His gaze never left me.
“I’ve come to say goodbye, Max.”
Even Instructor Greer’s composure cracked for a second before she recovered. The highest-ranking heir crossing the compound to say goodbye to a first-year cadet? No protocol existed for this.
My heart kicked.
Did this mean he’d be gone for a long time? Panic hit me, fast and irrational.
“Where are you going, sir?”
“The eastern border.” Warmth left his voice, replaced by the tone of a prince at war.
“Eagle reconnaissance reports coordinated attacks on satellite towns near the DarkVeil. Multiple skirmishes over the last seventy-two hours. Indicators of escalation. I’m deploying with the Spartans to reinforce and assess. ”
The class drew a collective breath. Cadets’ eyes went wide with worry.
“Prince Aelindor—” Instructor Greer started.
Frost stepped forward from the entrance. “The battle brief will be available to all instructors at eighteen hundred hours.” His voice was polite, dismissive. “His Highness did not come for you.”
Aelindor’s gaze roamed over me.
I’d changed.
The bony, cropped-haired miner from his interrogation room was gone.
My hair, darkest blue shot through with streaks of white, fell to my shoulders.
I no longer needed the chest-bind, and the uniform showed it—curves where angles used to be, the fabric hugging a figure that had finally been given enough food and rest to become itself.
I was tall, but feminine. Regal, in Bryn’s words.
His want reached me across the distance.
Different from Nikolai’s hunger—not predatory, not sharp, but no less consuming.
A deep, steady yearning locked behind centuries of discipline, leaking through despite everything.
And a reciprocal ache seared through me, mirroring his.
We’d both lived too long without this, him far longer than me.
I hadn’t even known I carried it until him.
“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, so?—”
“Sir.” I stepped toward him. “Take me with you.”
The words came out before strategy could shape them. “Two of my friends may still be alive. Your outposts swept the western approaches to Ashford, but no one’s covered the east. There’s a chance Desta and Kaid went that way.”
Most likely, they were dead. But I wouldn’t accept it without evidence.
“I can’t give up on them, sir. Hope is what got me this far. Without it, there’s no reason to get up in the morning.”
“Cadet Private Max!” Instructor Greer’s voice cut across the yard. “Know your place.”
I ignored her. I needed to go with Aelindor for reasons beyond my friends. Some deep instinct in me couldn’t tolerate being separated from him, especially for an unknown duration .
“I won’t be a burden. I’m a quick learner. I’ll be an asset—I know I’m not there yet, but I will be. Give me a chance, sir. You won’t regret it.”
Aelindor raised a single finger. “We leave now.”
I’d loaded a dozen more arguments like rounds in a chamber. Didn’t need them anymore.
I snapped to attention and saluted. “Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”
“You need the training I promised anyway.” He was already turning. “It starts on the road.”
He walked toward the exit while I was still frozen in place.
“You coming, Cadet Max Morning?” he called over his shoulder.
“Yes, sir! I’m coming!”
I bounced after him.
Behind me, shock rippled through the cadets—mouths open, eyes wide.
Forty first-years watching a prince pull the most controversial cadet in the academy out of a magic class and take her on a combat deployment.
Instructor Greer’s eyebrows climbed her forehead.
Delia’s face twisted with a jealousy so raw it was almost impressive.
I didn’t give a fuck.
No time to pack, either.
I considered asking Aelindor to have someone tell Bryn. Then I dropped the idea. Soldiers deployed at a moment’s notice. Any of us could die on a mission. Bryn would figure it out.
As I hurried after the Fae prince, a whisper carried from near the wall—one of Caspian’s fangirls. “I don’t see why she’s so special. She sticks out like a scarecrow, just like Delia said.”
My heart swelled. Not at the insult but at what it confirmed: Aelindor didn’t want to leave me behind. He’d come to take me with him.
Whatever danger waited at the eastern border, I’d face it beside him.
I wouldn’t be dead weight. I’d be an asset.