Chapter 13
Rynlee’s POV
At first, Alaric tensed, hesitating beneath my touch, but then he melted into the kiss, kissing me back like he’d been holding his breath for years.
It was desperate, aching, our lips moving together as if trying to make up for all the time we’d wasted.
But nothing happened. No spark. No pull.
No butterflies. Just… emptiness. I pulled away, breathless, my chest tight with something I couldn’t quite name.
Disappointment, maybe? The sting of what could’ve been but never was.
Alaric’s lips were parted as he stared at me, eyes dazed. “Ryn, that was—”
“Yeah,” I cut in gently, forcing a smile.
“It was good.” But it wasn’t. And that hurt more than any stab wound.
The silence stretched between us, heavy.
Then Alaric stepped forward, cupping my cheek, his thumb brushing over my skin as if he was memorizing me.
He pressed his forehead to mine, his tone rough when he finally spoke.
“As amazing as that was… we can’t. You’re mated to my brother. And that bond… it’s strong.”
My throat tightened. “Ugh, don’t say it like that.” My voice cracked, so I shoved humor into it. “Mated sounds… weird.” A laugh slipped from him, quiet and fond.
“You’re right. It does sound weird.” His hand lingered against my cheek, thumb tracing slowly. His eyes searched mine, and his next words nearly broke me. “But I do love you, Ryn. I’ll always love you. Even if it kills me a little to let you go.”
My heart fluttered, aching under the weight of everything we couldn’t have. “I love you, too. I have for a long time. Gods, I wish this was different.” My voice fell into a whisper as I closed my eyes, just to feel him close once more.
When I opened them, we were both smiling faintly through the ache. “You’ve loved me for a while?” he teased softly, a flush rising to his cheeks. I nodded, and his grin tugged wider. “Well, looks like we really got the short end of the stick, huh?”
A laugh escaped me, fragile but real. “Yeah. We did.” My gaze held his steady. “But this isn’t goodbye. You’re still my closest friend, Al. Always.”
“And you’re mine, Ryn,” he stated firmly, his boyish smile cutting through the weight in my chest. I squeezed his hand, committing the warmth to memory before we both stepped back.
“So… I’ll see you around,” I said, my voice soft but sure.
He nodded. “Always.” Then he turned, slipping into the showers. I watched him go, my heart aching at the distance now etched between us. Finally, I turned away and walked toward the girls’ side, the sting of goodbye trailing me like a shadow.
I stripped off my leather armor in silence, the pieces hitting the floor with soft thuds.
The hot spray hit my skin, washing away sweat and dust and something heavier, grief, maybe.
Or guilt. My fingers traced the ridged scars of the runes etched into my arms, still raw beneath the heat.
I exhaled slowly, pressing my palm against the tile.
The Sun Goddess’s words echoed through my mind.
Aiden and I were always destined for each other.
But why? Why us? I closed my eyes, letting the water fall over me. Nothing made sense anymore.
When I headed back into my dorm, Gia was stretched out on her bed, nose buried in a book. She glanced up. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
“I kissed Alaric,” I replied flatly, face planting into my pillows with my towel still wrapped around me.
Gia gasped. “Wait, what!”
I winced. “Gods, Gia. My ears.”
“Sorry! But what!”
“Yeah,” I mumbled into the comforter. “And I felt… nothing. Thanks to this stupid bond I have with Aiden.”
She sat up, brows knitting. “Nothing? What do you mean? Like no spark? No heat?”
I turned my head and sighed. “No spark. No butterflies. No anything. Just… empty.” Gia moved over to my bed and patted my back softly, in a soothing, comforting gesture.
I let out a long, sad sigh. “I always wanted it to be Alaric,” I whispered.
“For so long. And now? That chance is… gone.” Tears welled in my eyes, stinging before they even fell.
“I know,” Gia said gently, rubbing between my shoulders. “That sucks, Ryn. It really does. But hey… you still have him in your life. He’s not gone, gone.”
“I know. But it’s not the same.” Gia nodded. We spoke for a while, spending the evening reading and hanging out, anything to keep me distracted from the loss of love I could never have.
The next morning, after a restless night replaying the kiss over and over, I dragged myself out of bed.
Pulling on my leathers and braiding my hair, I stepped into the hall.
My body still ached, but I shoved it down.
The early light spilled through the stained-glass windows, streaking the floor with blue and pink.
As I rounded the rotunda, hushed voices reached me.
I froze, pressing against the column. Ivy.
Her cropped purple hair gleamed faintly in the light, and beside her, Erebus.
My stomach knotted instantly. I strained to hear.
“…Eastern Encampment… Aiden… Sun Goddess powers…” My pulse spiked.
I edged closer when I sensed it, this pull.
“Ruin.” I jolted, spinning straight into his chest. Hard.
“Gods!” I hissed, shoving him back. “Don’t sneak up on me.”
He raised a brow, expression infuriatingly unreadable. “What the hell are you doing? We have training.”
“Shhh!” I snapped, but it was too late. Erebus and Ivy were gone. “Dammit.”
His arms folded, shadows curling faintly around his boots. “What’s got you twitching?”
“Nothing.” I glared up at him with a sharp exhale. Honestly, his nickname should’ve been Ruin.
“Liar.” His gaze cut into me. “I can feel it. Remember the bond?”
My jaw tightened. “Fine. I saw Erebus whispering with Ivy. I only caught a few words: ‘Eastern Encampment,’ your name,’ and ‘Sun Goddess powers.’ Then you showed up and scared them off.”
For a heartbeat, his eyes sharpened, recognition flashing, and then it was gone, concealed by the cold mask he always wore. “You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure,” I bit out. “I would’ve found out more if you hadn’t barged in.” Something darkened his face. Anger, yes, but beneath it, something heavier. Fear. He hid it well, but I sensed it through the bond, curling icy and sharp at the base of my spine.
He stepped in closer, voice low. “Stay out of it, Ruin. You keep poking at shadows you don’t understand; you’ll end up on that plaque outside before the semester’s over.”
The words stung, but I refused to flinch. I arched my brow. “What do you know, Aiden?”
His jaw ticked, muscles coiling like he wanted to say more, needed to, but instead he turned, shadows lapping at his heels as he strode away.
“Nothing. Now let’s go, Firebeard doesn’t like being kept waiting.
” I opened my mouth to push further, demanding answers, when he glanced back.
His jade eyes locked with mine, sharp but carrying something I couldn’t name.
“Don’t do anything stupid. For once in your life, just listen to me.
” I nodded, but the truth was, I couldn’t let it go.
Not when every instinct screamed that something was wrong at this college.
Later that day in Elemental Magic class, we gathered outside on the training grounds.
The wide ring of scorched stone bore the marks of countless failed attempts—blackened earth, cracked slabs, and faint ward-lines glowing at the edges to keep stray flames from spreading.
Professor Deylin stood at the center. He was tall and slender, almost willowy against the harsh backdrop of ruined stone.
Long gray hair fell past his shoulders in a loose curtain, shifting faintly in the breeze as though the air itself answered to him.
Unlike the leather-clad combat instructors, he wore layered robes that moved fluidly around his frame, the fabric whispering across the scorched ground.
The hem was lightly singed, a quiet testament to years spent standing too close to uncontrolled power.
His pale sea-green eyes were sharp and calculating, but not severe.
They held depth, like still water hiding unseen currents beneath the surface.
When they swept over us, it didn’t feel like judgment.
It felt like an assessment. His arms crossed over his chest as if daring one of us to slip up, but his voice, when he spoke, was calm.
Measured. He instructed us to draw from our center, to breathe until the magic answered instead of forcing it.
“Force,” he said evenly, “is what amateurs rely on. The elements do not respond to desperation. They answer to discipline.”
I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. The sensation started deep in my core, like a pulse of warmth rising with every breath.
My veins began to glow beneath my skin, golden light flickering from my forearms upward in soft waves.
Then, with a slow exhale, a flame bloomed above my palm.
It danced and curled, glowing faintly with the rhythm of my breathing. Alive. Warm. Mine.
But a sudden rumble jarred me from my focus.
Across the ring, one of the boys was losing control.
His earth magic cracking the ground violently beneath his feet, stone jutting upward in jagged spikes.
Professor Deylin barked his name, striding forward, but the disruption already rattled through me.
My concentration slipped. The warmth under my skin surged too hot, too fast.
Flames licked higher, racing up my forearms like living firebrands.
My pulse spiked as panic clawed at my chest. The fire wasn’t staying contained.
It was climbing. Spreading. Hungry. “Ryn!” Gia’s voice cut through, sharp and urgent.
She moved closer, her own flame sputtering out as she reached for me.
My breath came fast and shallow, each inhale feeding the blaze.