CHAPTER FIVE
We navigated the crowded cafeteria, my stomach growling loud enough to draw a smirk from Ember.
The hall was a cavern of vaulted stone, with long wooden tables etched in shimmering elemental sigils and fae-lanterns drifting lazily overhead. The scent of fresh bread and spiced meats wrapped around me—a banquet fit for royalty.
I stacked my plate high, ignoring the potential for judgment, and we claimed a sun-drenched table near the windows. Jules joined us a moment later, balancing her tray with wide-eyed focus.
"So, Jules," Ryven said between massive bites of steak, "where are you from?"
She blinked, surprised by the attention. "Eldrethine," she said, adjusting her glasses. "My parents are weaponsmiths for the Litharyn division of the Astral Guard."
I raised my brows as she popped a purple moon cherry into her mouth. Humans lacked raw elemental magic, but they were the realm's master creators—Seers, enchanters, and rune-carvers.
The quiet, essential force behind every victory.
"That's incredible," I said, leaning in. "Your family must be proud."
Jules flushed. "I hope so. I'm aiming for the enchantment program at the Tower."
"You'll get in," Ember said, pointing her fork at her. "You've got the vibe."
"The vibe?" Jules blinked.
"Cute, clever, and I'd actually trust you to craft me an anti-assassin charm," Ember said easily.
"High praise from a Pyreson," Ryven added with a grin.
Jules laughed, her cheeks pink, and for a moment, the heavy tension of the morning finally settled into something normal.
"How are we feeling about the Aegos Trials?" Maddy asked, picking at her greens while I demolished a plate of meat and pastries.
I froze mid-bite.
"You're smaller than the others," Aether noted smugly through the bond. "Eat the protein."
"Thanks for the encouragement," I muttered back.
"I'm pumped," Ember declared, her chin lifted. "You win the Trials; you earn a place with the Astral Guard. It's the ultimate test."
She said it as if it were already written in stone. But the Aegos Trials weren't about glory—they were a brutal gauntlet of strength, endurance, and strategy. Jax had told me his first year nearly broke him, and Jax never broke.
"I'll be lucky to make it past the first round," I muttered, stabbing a pastry.
"Don't undersell yourself," Aether said dryly.
"V, you're fast," Maddy insisted, leaning in. "And your potion work is insane."
"Best in our year," Ryven agreed. "You were raised by the Ignivar division. The King doesn't train soft."
"Yeah," I said, glancing at my hands. "But none of that matters if my fire decides to burn the arena down instead of my opponent."
Aether huffed. "A minor technical detail."
Despite myself, a small smile finally tugged at my mouth.
A voice slid over my skin, smooth and deliberate.
"Speaking of the Aegos Trials…"
I turned and nearly choked on a moon cherry.
"Asher," Ember said, far too pleased. "Come sit."
Gods help me. He looked carved from temptation. He wore his black leather that were trimmed in the deep violet hues of Umbra with the Umbra house crest—a half-moon and stars—and that infuriatingly lazy grin. He didn't hesitate, pulling out the chair right beside me.
Asher filled the space effortlessly, his presence heavy like thunder waiting to break.
Two of his friends joined us.
"Darcy," the girl said, her lips curving into a knowing smile. She was striking—black-and-violet pixie cut, violet eyes sharp with mischief, a metal lip ring and a matching one on her eyebrow.
Ink curled from her fingers up her exposed arms to her neck, intricate and deliberate. Beside her, an auburn-haired male leaned forward with a reckless grin. "Ezra." His molten orange-gold eyes gleamed with a chaos that felt barely leashed.
"Nice to meet you," I managed, my voice coming out softer than intended.
Ryven introduced the rest of us, including Jules, who looked seconds away from fainting.
Then his scent hit me—it crashed into me like a storm over scorched earth. Rain and something dark and electric. It filled my lungs before I could stop it.
I went still, my heart slamming hard against my ribs.
This wasn't just attraction—it was magic braided with instinct.
Jeremy smelled like pine forests and moss. Clean. Safe.
Asher smelled like midnight before battle.
Like smoke and thunder and something molten beneath stone.
It wrapped around me, curling through my blood and settling low in my stomach.
As the others debated brackets and trial speculation, I sat there unraveling in silence, every nerve awake.
Asher hadn't even touched me, but his scent dragged heat through my veins until I felt dangerously close to igniting.
I pressed my thighs together beneath the table, fighting for a control that was rapidly slipping away.
Then I heard it—a quiet, deliberate sniff.
My gaze snapped sideways.
Asher was watching me, a slow, wicked smirk tugging at his mouth. He knew.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
I looked away instantly, my cheeks burning. Get it together, Ava.
"Are you all right, darling?" His voice brushed my ear, low and velvet-smooth. The word darling slid straight down my spine, nearly making me combust.
His breath was warm, his presence crowding every sense. And gods help me, he could smell it—the shift in my scent, the traitorous signal my body had given before my mind could stop it.
I prayed to every god that Jeremy was far, far away.
Because Asher's mouth was too close, his tone too certain, and the heat pooling in my blood far too obvious.
Get out. Now.
The bell rang. Thank the fucking stars.
I shot to my feet so fast my chair shrieked across the stone, drawing half the hall's attention.
"Damn, Pyreson," Ryven called with a grin. "That excited for combat class?"
"Yes. Let's go," I squeaked—the pitch far too high—and grabbed Ember's arm like a lifeline, dragging her from the table.
We bolted toward the training grounds, our boots pounding the stone path as boundlings scattered in startled bursts of wings and flame.
I didn't look back, but I could still feel his silver-eyed gaze burning into my skin, trailing me like a shadow.
"Gods, Ava," Ember panted, nearly tripping behind me. "What in the blazing hells has gotten into you?"
I crashed through the archway and slammed our door shut, my cheeks hot enough to ignite the curtains.
"That male is doing something to me," I hissed, flinging open my wardrobe. "Unlocking some primal shit. I can barely function."
"Another embarrassment," Aether muttered through the bond, leaping onto the bed with regal disdain.
Ember dissolved into unrestrained cackling.
"This isn't funny," I groaned, stripping off the uniform with the grace of a startled squirrel and swapping it for my blessedly less-revealing combat leathers.
"Oh, it's hilarious," Ember said, still laughing as she changed. "You're in a full fae heat spiral over a male you've spoken—what, three sentences to?"
I spun on her, scandalized. "Ember. I'm betrothed."
"To a male who, let's be honest, barely knows how to work your buttons," she shot back, tugging on her boots, "let alone give you an orgasm."
"Ember!"
She shrugged. "What? I'm right. Maybe your sweet little fae flower is finally figuring out what it wants."
I stared at her, horrified.
"And what it wants," she added, wiggling her eyebrows, "is a male like Asher Maddox to properly water it."
"Gods," I groaned. "I am so fucked."
"Not yet," she said with a wicked wink.
Damn it, Ryven. Of course he had to be charming and inclusive. What a caring bastard.
"Aggggh!"
Ember just laughed, strapping on her belt and patting Luna's fiery head. "Come on, Princess Primal. Combat class awaits."
···
We moved to the combat field, the air thick with first-year adrenaline. It was a wide expanse of packed sand and worn grass, ringed by stone pillars etched with pulsing wards that shimmered like heat haze.
Stone benches rose in tiers beyond the perimeter, offering instructors a perfect view of the impending chaos.
We took our places near Ryven, Maddy, Darcy, and Ezra. Ember was practically vibrating beside me, her grin sharp.
Then Asher Maddox walked in.
The air shifted the moment his boots hit the sand. He was calm, collected, and lethal.
Even the wards seemed to hum lower, reacting to the power coiled beneath his skin. He didn't speak, merely folding his arms as his storm-silver eyes surveyed the field like a predator marking territory.
I ignored him flawlessly. Which is to say, I didn't ignore him at all.
"Welcome," a gravel-deep voice boomed.
The male at the front was broad-shouldered and scarred, wearing a vest that had clearly seen better decades.
"I am Professor Pyro. House Ignis. Your combat instructor." Of course. "Today, we assess you. Strength. Technique. Control. For this first round: no elemental magic. Discipline over destruction. Pair up."
My stomach dipped. Then Pyro's gaze shifted past us. "Ah. There he is."
I turned, and every god in existence laughed.
Jeremy.
He strode in with effortless confidence, his black training gear clinging to powerful muscle. His eyes found mine instantly.
"This is Prince Jeremy Eldrethine," Pyro announced. "He'll be assisting me in evaluating your progress."
Perfect. The snickering behind me was unmistakably Ember.
"Find your partners!" Pyro barked.
"Come on, Princess," Ember said, grabbing my arm before I could combust from humiliation. We stepped onto a mat while Maddy and Ryven claimed the one beside us.
Ember didn't hesitate.
She launched a strike straight for my face. I barely blocked, the force rattling my bones. She flashed a grin of approval, then swept my legs out from under me.
I hit the sand hard, the breath blasting from my lungs. "Okay," I croaked. "Ow."
"Pyreson—solid defense," Pyro called. "But you'll need faster recovery."
Before I could move, a familiar hand reached down and hauled me upright. Jeremy.
"Hey," he said, concern softening his eyes. "You good?"
"Yeah," I managed, brushing grit from my leathers. "I'm good."