Tamed

Chapter Nine #2

Fenric began handing out broken components to each person. “Troubleshoot it. Fix it. Return it in working condition next class. No blood, no complaints.”

Clink, his mechanical beetle, chirped ominously.

“Class dismissed,” Fenric announced.

Cassara looked for Oliver and spotted him ahead, already striding toward the far exit of the practice field, his coat half-buttoned, boots scuffing faintly against the packed dirt.

The jagged chunk of their assigned ACS component was still tucked under her arm, heavier now that the class had ended and expectations had been set.

She quickened her pace, closing the distance before he could disappear entirely.

“Oliver, right?” she said, falling into step beside him.

He didn’t slow.

“I’m Cassara. Allencourt,” she added, with the kind of ease that usually sparked recognition. A flicker of surprise. Something.

Nothing.

He barely glanced over, just enough to confirm she was still talking.

“I was going to ask when you wanted to meet for the repair,” she continued, holding out the component. “We’re partners, after all.”

Oliver looked up, a smudge of dirt on his cheek catching the light. He blinked once. Then again.

Cassara offered a smile, polished and well practiced. “I figured we could find time after dinner. Unless mornings work better for you?”

He didn’t answer. Just held out a hand.

She hesitated, then passed over the broken piece of gear.

He turned it in his hands, brow furrowing. “This one’s practically a joke,” he muttered. “Poor soldering. Misaligned conductors. I can do it faster myself.”

And before she could respond, before she could even decide whether to be offended, he turned and walked away.

Cassara stood there, eyebrows lifted, hands empty, lips parting around a soundless scoff.

“Charming,” she muttered.

He didn’t look back.

The light in the Great Hall had softened by the time the last course was cleared.

Faint arcs of magelight flickered above, tracing lazy spirals across the ceiling as the energy in the room ebbed.

The buzz of first-day nerves had dulled to low chatter, laughter, and clinking cutlery.

Cassara sat back in her chair, a half-finished tart pushed to the side, and allowed herself a rare moment of stillness.

One day down.

It hadn’t gone perfectly. Verena still grated.

Gideon had managed to crawl under her skin with fewer words than seemed fair.

And Oliver, gods help her, might be the only partner at this entire academy who looked through her like glass instead of being remotely impressed.

Still, she’d won her match. She’d kept her footing.

She’d survived Thendrick, Marlowe, and Fenric without losing her mind.

That counted for something, right?

At the head table, the headmistress rose. The Hall hushed instantly.

“You’ve taken your first steps,” she said, her voice like a low, striking bell. “Tomorrow, you’ll take more. Some forward. Some back. Make them count.”

And with that, she inclined her head, and the instructors stood, followed shortly by the students as benches scraped against polished stone and the crowd began to spill out into the halls.

Cassara was halfway to the dormitory corridor when a hand closed gently, but insistently, around her wrist.

She turned, startled, just as Julian leaned in close.

“Come with me,” he said, his voice pitched low, conspiratorial.

She blinked. “Julian, what—”

“No arguments.” His grin widened. “It’s a surprise.”

Before she could protest, he was already guiding her away from the crowd, his grip light but unwavering as they slipped down one of the narrower halls branching off the main stairwell.

Cassara knew she should have insisted on going back, but she was curious and couldn’t help but wonder what exactly Julian thought counted as a surprise.

The corridor narrowed into a dim side passage that was barely lit.

Despite having just arrived, Julian moved like he knew every twist of it, his pace casual, hand still loosely wrapped around her wrist. Cassara kept up without question, at first. His coat caught the occasional flare of magelight as they passed, throwing fractured glints across the stone.

“Where are we going?” she asked, not quite whispering.

“You’ll see.”

He sounded smug. Pleased with himself in a way that both irritated and intrigued her.

They slipped through an iron-bound door that creaked against old hinges, the warmth of the academy giving way to the sharper, wilder air outside.

Night had settled properly now, skies clear and velvet-dark above the silhouette of the cliffs.

Stars pulsed bright above, and beneath their boots, a narrow trail twisted down from the main path, away from the spire, away from the sanctioned dormitories and halls.

Cassara’s steps faltered. Professor Marlowe’s warning about beast activity and warded areas echoing in her mind.

“Julian,” she said, pulling slightly against his grip. “This is off-campus.”

“We’re not going far.”

“There’s a curfew,” she reminded him. “And the whole rules-and-boundaries speech? Pretty sure this breaks all of them.”

Julian glanced over his shoulder, not slowing. “Since when do you follow rules?”

“Since getting expelled would mean marrying you?”

Cassara wasn’t sure why she said it, they hadn’t talked about it at all and Cassara knew deep down that was part of the reason she had been keeping her distance.

She waited for him to get annoyed. Instead, he huffed a laugh, tightening his grip only slightly as he led her past a low outcropping of rock. The path narrowed more here, the foliage brushing her coat, mist curling low through the grass

“Relax,” he said, glancing back again. “We’ll be back before anyone notices. Trust me.”

Cassara did, or at least she wanted to, and that was the problem.

She didn’t stop him. She furrowed her brow and kept pace, heart ticking faster in the dark. Something about the way he said it, that easy, assured drawl, like they’d done this a hundred times. Like nothing could touch them.

It made her nervous, but it also made her want to see what came next.

She was still sorting through her conflicting impulses when Julian finally slowed his pace and she realized they’d reached a thin, rusted gate marked by a weathered sign bearing a faded warning: Closed by Academy Order, Unstable Terrain.

He caught her hesitation and chuckled softly. “It’s fine. They’ve been saying that for years.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “And you know this because?”

“Because the third year who told me about this spot got caught out here once and told me exactly where not to go. So naturally,” he pushed open the gate with a loud creak. “that’s exactly where we’re going.”

Cassara rolled her eyes, but she stepped through after him anyway, curiosity winning out.

Beyond the gate, the path dipped sharply, twisting through a tangle of low-hanging branches and ivy-coated stones.

The air thickened, damp with mist, scented faintly of minerals and damp earth. It felt secret, untouched.

As they emerged from the trees, Cassara stopped short, eyes widening.

Hidden between two jutting cliffs lay a series of pools shimmering faintly under the moonlight.

Steam curled lazily above the water, casting the secluded grove in a hazy, dreamlike glow.

The hot springs were eerily beautiful, wrapped in silence broken only by the quiet lapping of water against stone.

Julian watched her expression closely, lips quirking up. “Told you it’d be worth it.”

Cassara hesitated, drawn forward despite herself. “It’s…beautiful.”

His smile widened, genuinely pleased. “It suits you.”

She cut him a sharp glance, warmth creeping up her neck despite the cool air. “Does that line usually work on the other girls?”

“I wouldn’t know,” he said, smoothly moving closer, his voice low enough that she instinctively leaned in to catch it. “I haven’t tried it on anyone else.”

Cassara bit back a smile, pulse skipping in her throat.

She didn’t move away when Julian reached up, lightly brushing a loose curl back behind her ear.

His fingertips lingered against her cheek, a careful touch, almost a question.

The air between them felt charged with possibility, drawing taut as he leaned closer, close enough that she could count every freckle across his nose, the faint reflection of moonlight in his eyes,

Her breath caught. He paused, waiting, expectant. Tempting.

Cassara exhaled softly, purposefully stepping back. “Careful, Julian. You’re starting to believe in your own charm.”

Surprise flashed briefly in his eyes before giving way to amused resignation. He dropped his hand, unruffled by her rebuttal. “Maybe. But you came along, didn’t you?”

She snorted softly, shaking her head even as she admitted quietly to herself that part of her had enjoyed the risk, the reckless rush of slipping away under cover of darkness. But another part, deeper and quieter, knew it wasn’t enough.

The thought lingered as she dipped her fingers into the spring, watching ripples blur her reflection. “We shouldn’t stay long.”

“Just a little longer,” he murmured, voice quiet and coaxing. “When’s the next time you’ll get to just breathe?”

He had a point, and she hated that he did.

Closing her eyes for just a moment, she felt the steam brush softly across her skin, inhaling deeply the wild, forbidden stillness.

The weight of expectations felt distant here, easier to bear.

Just for a moment, she let herself lean into that feeling, even knowing it couldn’t last.

When she finally opened her eyes again, Julian was watching her closely, head tilted, his expression unguarded. “You’re impossible, you know.”

She smirked softly, straightening, forcing her usual confidence back into place like armor. “Is that a compliment or a complaint?”

“Both,” he answered without hesitation, eyes dancing. “Always both.”

Cassara eased away, suddenly restless under the weight of Julian’s gaze. She trailed her fingers along the smooth stones bordering the spring, stepping slowly along its edge as she tried to recapture her composure.

“How did this place even get here?” she wondered aloud, grasping at conversation. The words felt weak in her mouth, an awkward attempt at distance. She tilted her head, eyes tracing the ribbons of steam curling lazily upward.

Behind her, Julian’s footsteps thudded lightly against damp stone. “Natural formation, I think. Magical runoff did the rest,” he explained, voice carrying a smug undertone of amusement, his pace carefully matching hers.

Cassara knew he was closing in, and found she didn’t entirely mind. The nervous flutter in her chest gave way to a quiet thrill. She would allow him to play his little game, to let him think he had her cornered.

He stepped closer, voice low. “Are you running away, Cass?” he teased.

She tossed a playful glance over her shoulder, arching an eyebrow. “Are you chasing?”

“Always.” His grin flashed brightly in the moonlight, all lazy charm and easy confidence.

He had her backed nearly to the end of the path, the steaming water close at her heels. Her breath caught in her chest when he closed the remaining distance between them, his arm slipping around her waist and pulling her flush against him.

He leaned closer, voice gentle but edged with quiet certainty.

“You know,” he murmured softly, tracing his thumb lightly along her cheek, “you don’t have to fight so hard. Prestige, ranks, proving yourself, it won’t matter once we’re married. Our families have already seen to that.”

Cassara stiffened immediately, the tender haze evaporating into cold clarity. Her palm pressed against his chest, pushing him back, not harshly, but with enough force to catch him off guard.

Julian stumbled, arms pinwheeling in surprise, before losing his balance completely. He hit the hot spring with a startled splash, surfacing a moment later, coughing and sputtering indignantly.

She stood over him, arms crossed, irritation masking her amusement. “Careful, Julian. That sounded dangerously close to ownership.”

He blinked water from his lashes, scowling petulantly as he slicked his hair back. “Was that really necessary?”

“Absolutely.”

Despite his obvious irritation, a reluctant smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, dripping and defeated. “You’re a menace, Cass.”

“Always,” she echoed back sweetly, stepping neatly away from the edge. “Now come on, we really should get back before someone notices.”

He sighed dramatically, hauling himself from the water. “I suppose it’s too much to hope this stays between us?”

She tilted her head, eyes glittering with mischief. “We’ll see how well you behave.”

Julian sighed dramatically, dripping as he began to climb out. When he reached the edge, his expression shifted, a flash of playful rebellion sparking behind his eyes. Before Cassara could fully register it, he lunged upward, caught her hand, and fell backwards into the spring again.

Cassara toppled forward with a startled yelp, landing in the water beside him in an entirely undignified splash. She broke the surface sputtering, water streaming from her hair and down her face as she glared incredulously at Julian.

“Julian Tremaine, have you lost your mind?”

Julian smirked triumphantly, thoroughly pleased with himself. “Now, who’s behaving?”

Cassara shook her head, laughter breaking free despite herself. “You’re incorrigible."

“But you wouldn’t have me any other way,” he shot back smoothly, pushing soaked hair out of his eyes with a grin.

Cassara rolled her eyes, splashing water at him half-heartedly as she fought, and failed, to suppress her smile. Shaking her head, she turned and began climbing out of the hot spring, soaked clothing clinging heavily to her skin.

“That’s your first mistake,” she said lightly, glancing over her shoulder with wicked amusement. “Thinking I want you.”

Julian pressed a dramatic hand to his chest, feigning injury. “Ouch, Cass. Brutal.”

She tossed him one last playful smile, already turning away toward the trail back to campus. “You’ll live.”

His laughter followed her into the darkness, but she didn’t slow, and she didn’t look back.