CHAPTER FIVE #2
I shot Ember a glare, but she just grinned and tossed me a water bottle. Jeremy gave me one of those infuriatingly perfect smiles.
"See you later," he said, winking before stepping back to rejoin Pyro.
"He is a golden retriever in fae form," Aether rumbled through the bond. "But the shadow is still watching you, little one. And he does not look amused."
I glanced toward the edge of the mat.
Asher stood perfectly still, his silver gaze fixed on the spot where Jeremy's hand had touched my arm.
At his feet, the shadows weren't merely flickering; they were agitated, snapping against the sand like whipcord.
The arena fell into a sudden, charged silence as Asher reached for a water skin.
With a slow, deliberate motion, he gripped the hem of his damp training shirt and pulled it over his head. Sunlight caught the hard, symmetrical lines of his abs and the powerful breadth of his chest, highlighting every scar, every tattoo and every ripple of muscle.
He didn't look away. Not once.
He tilted his head back, his silver eyes locked on mine with a predatory intensity that made my pulse stutter.
Then, he uncapped the skin and began to pour the water.
It cascaded over his face, soaking his dark hair and trailing in glistening rivulets down his throat, over his collarbones, and across the expanse of his bare chest.
It wasn't a cooldown; it was a challenge.
The water shimmered against his skin, catching the light as it pooled in the hollow of his throat before disappearing beneath the waistband of his leathers.
He watched me through the droplets, his expression unreadable but his intent vibrating through the air like a physical weight.
"If you stare any harder, you'll catch fire without the magic," Aether's voice drawled in my mind, dripping with feline sarcasm.
I couldn't even snap back.
I was too busy trying to remember how to breathe while the heat in my stomach turned into a full-blown roar.
Asher lowered the water skin, his mouth curving into that devastatingly slow smirk.
He knew. He knew the exact effect he was having, and he was enjoying every second of my undoing.
Splash.
A wall of cold water hit me square in the face.
"Ember, what the fuck?" I sputtered, wiping dripping hair from my face.
She looked entirely too smug. "You needed a cooldown."
"You did that on purpose."
"Obviously."
Before I could so much as reach for my own water bottle, Pyro's voice thundered across the field. "New partners. Ember Pyreson, Ezra Valeor—you're up."
Ember's grin turned feral as she stalked forward, sunlight catching the auburn fire in her hair. Ezra, shirtless and stretching, gave her a mocking bow.
They circled, heat shimmering between them, until Pyro barked the command to begin.
Ember struck first—a brutal right hook. Crack.
Ezra's head snapped to the side, blood blooming at his lip. Instead of anger, he smiled. "Didn't expect that, love."
He lunged, his kick slamming into her stomach, but Ember didn't break. With a snarl, she swept his legs and drove him into the sand, rolling in a blur until her thighs locked firmly around his neck.
Ezra grunted once and tapped the ground.
The arena exploded in whistles. Even Pyro's mouth twitched. "Well done, Pyreson. Valeor—ice and humility."
Ember rose like she'd been forged in the mat, eyes burning with triumph. Ezra wandered back, pressing a towel to his lip.
"How does it feel," Asher murmured, his voice a low vibration, "to be beaten by a fire wielder?"
The sound sent a shiver down my spine.
Ezra dropped onto the grass, still grinning. "Honestly? Worth it. Wouldn't mind being between her legs again."
I choked on my water while Ryven snorted liquid out of his nose. Ember didn't miss a beat. She took a slow sip of her drink, met Ezra's gaze, and said calmly, "Maybe."
Gods, I loved my friends. I also feared them.
"Your circle is chaotic," Aether rumbled, pacing at my feet. "But at least they aren't boring. Now, stop staring at the shadow male's back. It's pathetic."
"I'm not staring," I snapped, even as my eyes traced Asher's spine one last time.
The pace quickened as more pairs were called. Ryven dismantled Zorian with merciless precision, leaving him barely conscious. "Deserved," I muttered.
Darcy followed, dismantling an Earth wielder with terrifying elegance. No wasted motion. Just pure control.
Maddy went next, moving like silk over steel.
With a feint and a spinning kick, she sent her opponent into the sand with a crack that echoed across the field. Naturally, Ryven rewarded her with an exaggerated tongue wag.
"Gods," I muttered. "Disgusting."
"Ava Pyreson. Asher Maddox. You're up."
The arena went dead silent.
I stood slowly, every gaze in the amphitheater burning into my skin. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jeremy—his jaw clenched so tight it looked ready to fracture, his eyes flashing as he took a step toward Pyro. Fury rolled off him in visible waves.
"Don't," I whispered, barely moving my lips. "Don't make this worse."
Ember smacked my ass as I passed. "Get in there, Princess."
Asher was already moving toward the center of the ring, barefoot and unhurried.
The sunlight turned his sweat-slicked back into a map of shifting muscle and dark, intricate tattoos.
"Gods," I breathed, the heat of the sand rising through my boots. "He's going to destroy me."
"And not in the way you're hoping," Aether snorted through the bond, sounding far too pleased with my misery.
I ignored him and stepped onto the mat.
My pulse thundered in my ears, drowning out the crowd until all I could hear was the rasp of my own breath. Breathe. Focus. Fight. I am Ava Pyreson.
"And he's the darkling," Aether countered. "But sure. Confidence is a strategy."
Asher stood before me, performing one slow, deliberate stretch. His expression was unreadable, his power perfectly contained. Jeremy's glare burned into my back, but I locked it out. This wasn't about him.
"Ready?" Pyro's voice thundered.
Asher gave a small, lazy nod, that lethal smirk returning to his lips. We began to circle.
No magic, no tricks—just instinct. His stormy eyes tracked every shift of my weight, every tightening of my muscle, as if he were already three moves ahead.
"Please don't let me die," I muttered.
I struck first, a sharp jab toward his ribs. He blocked it effortlessly, his skin feeling like warm stone.
We reset, boots grinding over sand, the air between us charging until it felt ready to snap.
He feinted right, then his fist drove into my gut.
Pain exploded, tearing the air from my lungs. I folded for a fraction of a second, then forced myself to pivot.
My leg snapped upward, my boot catching the sharp line of his jaw.
Blood bloomed along his lower lip. For one heartbeat, I smiled.
Asher wiped the blood with his thumb, his eyes darkening to a dangerous silver. "Hmm," he murmured, his voice a low vibration. "Fiery."
Then he moved—too fast for me to track. He hooked my leg and flipped me hard onto my back. The impact drove the breath from me in a brutal rush. The sky spun, blue and merciless.
I rolled, scrambling upright before he could press the advantage. Fury roared through me, hot and sharp.