CHAPTER THREE #4
We walked back toward our dorm in a heavy, suffocating silence, the midnight cold pressing sharper against my skin with every step.
The moment the door shut behind us, Ember spun on her heel, the silk of her black gown hissing against the floor.
"Oh my gods, Ava," she breathed, her face pale beneath her auburn hair. She steered me gently toward the edge of my bed, her touch uncharacteristically soft. "Are you okay?"
I nodded numbly, though a frantic buzzing in my skull refused to quiet. My hands wouldn't stop trembling, the phantom sensation of Zorian's grip still burning around my wrist like a brand.
"You look like you're about to collapse," Ember muttered, already darting into our shared bathroom.
"I'm running you a bath. You need to wash that creep's scent off you." Her voice sharpened, raised loud enough to pierce the walls. "And where the hell is Aether?"
I squeezed my eyes shut and reached desperately down the bond.
"Aether."
Silence. A hollow, terrifying void where his presence should have been. Panic clawed up my throat, more suffocating than Zorian's threats.
"Aether!" I said it again, out loud this time, my voice cracking with a raw edge.
And then—scratch.
The sound echoed through my skull, followed by a frantic scraping against stone. My eyes flew open.
I staggered toward the balcony, my heart hammering against my ribs as I fumbled with the cool brass handle.
"Aether?" I shoved the doors open.
Cold night air rushed in, and suddenly, pain exploded through my head. It was lightning—white-hot and searing—splintering across my mind and lancing straight through my forehead. I clutched the doorframe, my knees buckling under the weight of the sensory assault.
Ember burst back into the room, Luna hissing at her heels, her lynx fur standing on end. "What's going on?"
Aether lunged through the balcony doors in a blur of obsidian fur, a low, tectonic growl vibrating through the floorboards.
His golden eyes were blown wide with a panic I had never felt from him—hackles raised, chest heaving.
He began prowling in tight, furious circles around me, his claws clicking sharply against the wood as if he were counting my every breath.
"I'm here," he rasped through the bond, his mental voice rough and shaking with a restrained, murderous rage.
He sniffed the air sharply, his ears flattening against his skull.
"Gods, little one… are you hurt? What happened?"
"I'm fine," I snapped, though my voice trembled. My palms still burned with the remnants of my restrained flame.
"Where were you?"
Aether's tail lashed once, then again, sparks cracking against the stone like tiny whips.
"Zorian's damn boundling cornered me," he snarled, his lips curling back to reveal ivory fangs. "Picked a fight. And I swear he used something—a potion, a rune, something that shouldn't exist. It severed the bond. I couldn't reach you."
Ice slid down my spine, cooling the fire in my blood. I turned to Ember, my throat feeling raw and stripped.
"He was cut off. Zorian must've used his boundling to block us. It was a blackout."
Ember's green eyes flared, actual fire licking at her irises.
"He fucked with a soul-bond?"
I swallowed, the realization settling heavy and cold in my chest.
"He did."
Her expression shifted instantly. The shock vanished, replaced by a lethal, calculating fury.
"He planned it," she whispered, her voice dangerous.
"Gods, Ava… that bastard planned the whole thing. He isolated you."
"I'm calling the Headmaster," Ember snapped, already turning toward the door. "No—your father. The King will have his head for this."
Rage poured off her in visible waves.
Luna mirrored her perfectly, the flames along her spine surging until they licked at the air, bright and violent.
She was halfway to the door when I stumbled in front of her, blocking her path.
"Ember, stop." My voice was quiet, but it sliced through the room like a blade.
She froze, her chest heaving, her eyes hot enough to reduce the entire wing to cinders. "He hurt you, Ava! He laid hands on the heir!"
"I know," I said, the words tasting like ash.
"But we can't just cry to the throne because we're royalty. Remember the target on our backs? This is exactly the kind of 'fragile princess' drama they're waiting for. If we run to my father now, Zorian wins the political game."
Ember's jaw flexed, heat lightning flashing behind her eyes. "So we just let him get away with it?"
"No. We handle it our way. Smart. Controlled. We let him be the one who loses control in public—it'll look worse on him when the fallout hits."
For a heartbeat, I thought she'd shove past me anyway. Then she dragged in a long, shuddering breath and forced the fire down.
"Okay. Fine," she muttered, though the anger still simmered just beneath her skin. "But we watch him. If he even breathes in your direction, he's done."
"I'll burn his dick off," Aether added darkly through the bond.
"I'll burn his dick off," she said in sync with Aether. She reached out, her hand gripping my shoulder firmly, her thumb brushing a stray blonde strand from my cheek.
"Go take your bath. Get him off your skin."
She held my gaze for a moment longer—a silent vow of protection—then turned toward her suite, Luna padding after her. The door clicked shut, leaving the room in a heavy, ringing silence.
I sank onto the edge of the massive bed, my pulse still racing. Aether vaulted up beside me in a fluid, silent motion, his sleek body curling along my side.
He didn't speak. He only watched me with those molten-gold eyes—ancient and unblinking—searching for the fractures I was trying so hard to hide.
I slid my fingers deep into his obsidian fur, gripping the warmth of him.
"It's okay," I whispered. The words felt fragile, like glass about to shatter.
He didn't argue. He simply leaned his heavy weight into me, a low rumble vibrating through his chest and into my ribs until it felt like armor settling over bone.
After a moment, I stood and peeled the ruined silk from my skin. The gown slipped to the floor in a quiet, shimmering heap of red and gold. My arm throbbed the second I lifted it to unfasten the stays.
When I glanced down, a bruise was already blooming along my wrist—dark, ugly, and shaped like a warning.
Bastard.
Steam curled from the bath Ember had drawn, the scent of expensive oils filling the room.
I stepped into the water and sank down slowly, the heat wrapping around me in a searing, restorative embrace.
The burn in my chest eased first, followed by the tension in my shoulders, the sting of Zorian's grip fading beneath the scalding warmth until it became just another distant ache.
I let my head rest against the cool porcelain rim and closed my eyes. The world quieted.
The frantic buzzing in my skull softened into a dull hum.
And for the first time since the courtyard—since the shadows and the silver eyes—I breathed.