Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
Major Ledor’s voice cut through the tension still hanging thick over the Ascension Grounds.
“Back to your assigned squads.”
No one dared hesitate. Not with the steel in his tone. The crowd of riders broke apart like mist before the wind, the whispers dying in the air as everyone returned to their places.
Jax exhaled beside me, muttering something about wanting to drive his fist into Theron’s jaw, but even he fell silent as Ledor strode to the podium, cloak billowing behind him like a battle standard.
Theron and Inderia were already leaving, their silhouettes framed against the stone archway, her silks trailing like smoke, his posture proud and unyielding.
Once they vanished, Ledor’s voice rang out again.
“The next trial will be group combat,” he announced. “You will fight in rotating teams. Coordination, strategy, adaptability. This is not about glory. This is about unity.”
I scanned the rows.
Zander had returned to Crownwatch, slipping into formation between Cade and two other riders I didn’t recognize by name, but had seen him train with before. His stance was tight. Controlled. But his eyes were hard as steel beneath storm clouds.
I didn’t mean to reach out. Not at first.
But the bond flickered between us, just faint enough to try.
Are you alright? I asked, sending it softly, hesitantly through the private tether only we shared.
Zander didn’t respond immediately.
Then, I will be. A pause. I want you to know… I will never marry Inderia. Even if you refuse me.
The words slammed into me like a gust of wind I hadn’t braced for.
I went still, heart thudding in my chest.
Why? I asked, the thought barely formed before it left me.
His answer came slow.
Because I’d rather be nothing… than be someone you can’t trust.
Major Ledor’s voice carried across the Ascension Grounds, barking instructions as squads began shifting into position. The man’s tone was piercing, but I barely registered the words.
My attention was elsewhere. On the thread of magic, still humming in my mind, pulled taut between me and Zander.
He stood several yards away with Crownwatch, arms folded, nodding mechanically as the Major explained the trial, but his mind was already entangled with mine.
You’ve never said anything, I sent, quiet but honest. Nothing that made me think you wanted something… permanent.
The bond flared, stunned. I felt the shock before I even heard his response.
You honestly think that?
I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to.
Then I’m worse at this than I thought, Zander said, the words slow, laced with something raw. Every time I’ve stood beside you. Fought for you. Chosen you over protocol, over Theron, over duty… it’s always been you. I thought I was making it clear.
You never said it, I replied. And the silence started to feel like an answer.
There was a weighted pause.
Then I’ll start saying it. Every damned day, if that’s what it takes. But the first time will be in person. Not like this.
I barely had time to process the pounding in my chest before Ferrula stepped up beside me, her massive frame already cracking her knuckles like she was hoping someone would try her today.
Jax followed, his axe already slung over one shoulder, a crooked grin tugging at his mouth. “Ready to knock some teeth out?” he asked, more to me than Ferrula.
Riven moved into place on my other side without a word, her daggers already gleaming, her braid pulled tight like she meant business.
That left Tae, Naia, and Cordelle forming the second group to the left of us.
Then, as expected, Iron Fang stepped forward.
Perin was at the front, of course. His shiny crimson armor glinting under the sun like he’d polished it for intimidation. His expression was unreadable, but his gaze slid over me like a blade meant to wound.
I expected him to come at me.
But it wasn’t him that made my blood run cold.
It was the rider to Ferrula’s right.
A mountain of a man, taller than Jax by at least half a head, his frame layered in scaled onyx armor etched with strange, cruel symbols.
His face was partially masked, but his exposed eyes were cold.
Void of anything human. He wielded a broadsword as long as I was tall, and the way he held it said he didn’t need magic to break someone in half.
“He’s new,” Riven muttered beside me, barely audible.
Ferrula rolled her shoulders, but I saw it. The shift in her stance. The readiness to fight was still there.
But so was caution.
Whoever that man was… he wasn’t here to train.
He was here to hurt.
Perin caught my eye from across the training ring, the smirk already curling at the edge of his lips.
He winked.
“I hope you like playing with Dermith,” he said casually, rolling his shoulders in that slow, practiced way that told me he was already winding up for a fight. “His nickname in Dirian is the Slayer.”
I frowned, gaze flicking to the towering man standing across from Ferrula, his black-on-black armor already gleaming like blood-wet obsidian. The Slayer. Wonderful.
Perin leaned in just slightly. “But I think Ferrula and him have met. He’s our new prospect. What do you think. Maybe he’ll earn his pendant today?”
I glanced at Ferrula.
She had murder in her eyes.
Absolute, seething rage, tempered only by the fact that she was already picturing exactly how she’d dismantle him.
“Ferr,” I said carefully, “are you okay?”
Her lips curled in a feral grin. “I’ve waited five years for this rematch.”
That made my blood run cold.
She rolled her shoulders with a predator’s grace, her hand flexing once around the hilt of her blade. “While I doubt he’ll bond a dragon, I feel it’s my duty to ensure he realizes he doesn’t belong here before he goes fishing for a pendant.”
Jax shifted beside her, his usual confidence edged with concern. “Be careful. I know he’s an assassin.”
Ferrula didn’t even look at him when she replied. Her eyes stayed locked on Dermith.
“I know better than you what he is.”
This wasn’t just about a fight.
This was personal.
All the squads were now squared off across the Ascension Grounds, the air thrumming with tension as the final pairs locked eyes, fists tightened, steel whispered from sheaths.
Major Ledor stepped up onto the platform, arms crossed behind his back.
“All combatants are in position,” he called out. “Begin.”
The courtyard exploded into motion.
Perin circled me like a wolf who knew the terrain too well. The crowd had melted into background noise, the scrape of boots and clash of weapons filling the air around the Ascension Grounds.
We had weapons.
Which meant he wouldn’t try to grab me.
No hands meant no tendons, and no fear of his sickening magic twisting through my body again. Magic was barred from this trial, and I was thankful.
I adjusted my grip on the short sword, sweat already trailing down the back of my neck. Perin smirked, the flat of his blade tapping lightly against his thigh.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle,” he said.
“Good,” I breathed. “I won’t.”
He struck first, predictable, fluid, testing me. I blocked, the clang of our blades echoing sharply through the courtyard. He pivoted, struck again. And again.
I was faster than he expected. Kaelith’s silence may have stung, but it forced me to rely on my body, not the bond. My training. My instincts.
And I knew Perin.
He was flashy. Calculated. Overconfident.
I used it.
Ducked his swing, slid in low, and swept with my leg. He barely kept his balance, stumbling just long enough for me to rise and slash upward.
My blade bit into his arm.
Not deep, but enough.
Blood blossomed against the crimson of his sleeve.
A whistle sounded. One of the trial guards stepped in fast, hand raised. “Pull out!”
Perin hissed, but stepped back, clutching his arm.
“One point—Rebec,” the guard barked.
I exhaled shakily as Perin was led from the ring, muttering curses under his breath.
My heart still thundered, but I wasn’t shaking.
I’d won.
Not the war. Not the bond.
But a moment.
Still, the trial wasn’t over.
I stepped back to the edge of the ring, wiping my blade, and forced myself to watch as Ferrula stepped into place.
Her opponent was waiting.
And from the look in her eyes, he wouldn’t be standing long.
Ferrula stepped into the ring like a storm given form, her eyes locked on Dermith with a look that could have melted steel. She didn’t wait for him to speak—didn’t need words. This wasn’t a sparring match. It was history clawing its way out of the past for a reckoning.
But just to her right, Jax was stepping into position as well, squaring off against an Iron Fang rider I barely recognized—lean build, middling posture, the kind of fighter who relied too much on brute strength and not enough on thought.
I expected Jax to cut him down like dead weight.
And he did, almost immediately forcing the man back with measured, crushing blows. The ring cracked beneath the force of his movements, Koddos snarling from the cliffs above with approval.
But my eyes—
They were on Ferrula.
She and Dermith clashed like ancient blades—no finesse, no pretense. Just rage and retribution. Their swords collided with the sound of thunder, her footwork fast and calculated, his heavier, more brutal.
He slammed into her, blade dragging across her shoulder plate, sparks flying. She spun out, retaliating with a downward strike that cracked against his armored forearm, forcing him to stumble, but only for a breath.
They circled.
Struck again.
Blood already shimmered on Ferrula’s knuckles.
Then the tide shifted.
Dermith feinted, caught her blade in a trap against his own, and twisted.
Ferrula grunted as her footing faltered—and I saw it in his eyes.
He wasn’t going for a win.
He was going for blood.
He raised his sword, a death arc that would’ve split her skull—
And Jax was there.
His blade punched into Dermith’s thigh with a sickening crack of bone and steel.
Dermith howled, staggering—but he didn’t fall.
Instead, he twisted, pulled his sword back, and stabbed Jax in the side with a vicious snarl, the steel sinking deep.
“NO!” I screamed as Jax dropped to one knee, blood already pooling beneath him.
“Enough!” Major Ledor’s voice cracked like a whip. He stepped forward, rage burning in his eyes. “Thrall Squad is disqualified! You’ve forfeited the trial against Iron Fang!”
The courtyard fell into silence. Shocked, stunned silence.
Ferrula dropped beside Jax, her hands already pressing into his side, her blade forgotten in the dirt.
And Iron Fang… they just watched.
Because they hadn’t come to win.
They came to break us.
The three of us, Tae, Riven, and I moved quickly across the courtyard, Jax’s weight slung between our shoulders, his arm looped over mine, blood soaking through his tunic with every step.
He grunted but didn’t complain, though his skin was too pale, and his breath came in short, shallow bursts. He’d lost too much blood, and though he tried to act like he could walk himself, we all knew better.
Meri was already waiting when we burst into the healer’s wing, hands slick with salve and her apron stained with whatever patient she’d just patched up. The moment she saw Jax, she cleared a cot quickly.
“Here,” she barked. “Lay him down gently.”
We got him onto the cot, and the second he was down, his eyes rolled slightly, the fight finally draining out of him.
“Don’t you pass out on me, mountain man,” Meri muttered, placing her hands on either side of his wound.
Her healing magic flared soft gold, washing over his side in waves. His jaw clenched, a groan escaping his lips as the flesh slowly began to knit back together.
Riven stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, brows drawn. “Where’s Ferrula?” she asked, voice tight. “She didn’t come with us?”
I glanced away, my lips pressed into a thin line.
But Tae answered for me, voice quieter than usual. “Jax… this is going to go badly for you.”
Jax, still half-drowsy from the pain and the healing, blinked. Then his gaze narrowed and snapped to Tae. “Why? I saved her life.”
“That’s not how it works in Diria,” I said softly, resting a hand on the side of the cot. “Ferrula’s a warrior. She would rather die than have a man be her shield.”
Tae nodded. “You never interfere with a Dirian duel. No matter what it looks like. No matter how close it is. When you stepped in, you didn’t just disqualify us… you embarrassed her.”
Jax paled. Not from the pain, but from realization. “She’d rather be dead than saved by me?”
“By anyone,” Riven muttered.
“She may kill you for this.”
Jax groaned and slumped back into the cot.
“Worth it,” he muttered. “Take me to her.”