CHAPTER NINE
Darkness cradled me.
It wasn't the comforting sort; it was the heavy, choking kind that pressed in from every direction. My lungs burned, and my throat felt as if it had been raked with glass. Every breath I took clawed like raw fire up my windpipe.
I gasped awake.
Harsh, clinical light stabbed down from above. My head throbbed with every pulse of my heart, and it took a disorienting second to realize the arena was gone. No shouting. No roaring fire. No crashing weight of water.
"No—" My voice cracked, barely a whisper. "Aether—?"
"He's fine."
That voice. Smooth as silk and sharp as steel.
Asher.
I turned my head too fast and winced at the flare of pain. He was leaning against the far wall of the infirmary, arms crossed over his bare chest. Shadows flickered lazily around his boots like loyal, watchful creatures guarding the room.
"You passed out," he said, his eyes unreadable.
"Dropped like a stone after Zorian tried to drown you in front of the entire Academy."
I swallowed, my throat protesting the movement. "Did anyone—?"
"See?" His brow arched slightly. "Oh, Princess. The whole damn arena saw."
My stomach twisted into a cold knot.
"Your little water prince is in deep shit," he continued. "Using Heightened magic in a sanctioned duel? Against you? That's not just arrogance. That's stupidity."
My limbs ached, and my chest felt as if it had been torn open from the inside. I could still feel the phantom pressure of Zorian's water around my throat.
The memory of the end played back in flashes: the sudden darkness, the guards shouting, Zorian's panicked swearing...
And silver eyes.
Glowing in the void right before the world vanished.
Those eyes. They belonged to only one person. I looked at Asher, my gaze narrowing. "Was that... you?"
He didn't answer. Only the faintest, most infuriating smirk played on his lips.
Before I could push him for the truth, the infirmary doors burst open.
"Ava!"
Ember stormed in like a hurricane, Maddy right behind her, and Ryven trailing them with a look that suggested he was ready to punch a hole through a wall.
"Gods—what the fuck were they thinking letting him fight you like that?" Ember cried.
"You were insane," Maddy added, sliding into the chair beside my bed. "Like, actual firestorm energy. You had him right up until the throat thing. What even was that?"
"Illegal," Ryven muttered darkly, his arms crossed over his broad chest.
I pushed myself up straighter, ignoring the sharp throb in my ribs. "Where's Aether?"
"Sleeping off the worst of it in the stables," Ember said, her voice softening slightly. "He fought like hell, Ava."
He always did. And I’d nearly lost him.
Before another word could be said, the infirmary doors slammed open once more.
Jeremy.
He entered like a soldier walking into a skirmish—his earth energy heavy, grounded, and radiating protective fury. His gaze swept the room with clinical efficiency before landing squarely on Asher.
His jaw tightened.
"Asher," he said stiffly, giving a short, sharp nod.
Asher didn't move from his spot against the wall. "Jeremy," he replied, his tone perfectly smooth.
Jeremy dismissed him with a single, icy look and strode toward my bed. He took my hand, his grip firm yet careful. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," I muttered, the lingering exhaustion making my limbs feel heavy. "Just drowsy."
His brows furrowed in a deep, troubled line. He brushed his thumb along my cheek before pressing a lingering kiss to my forehead.
"They should've known better than to match you against him," he said, his voice vibrating with tight, controlled anger.
"Knowing his history. The bastard plays dirty. And you're the heir."
I huffed, forcing a small, defiant smile. "Just because I'm the heir doesn't mean I can't beat the shit out of him."
"You were close, Pyreson," Asher interjected from the doorway, his tone maddeningly casual.
Jeremy didn't turn. He didn't even acknowledge the shadow wielder's presence, but I felt the sharp tick in his jaw and the tension pulling down his arm like stone grinding under immense pressure.
"Yeah," Ryven added, letting out a low whistle. "Especially after the stunt he tried first. I'm surprised there aren't guards posted outside this room."
Jeremy froze. The air in the room seemed to drop several degrees as he spoke, his words slow and deliberate. "What stunt?"
I could've screamed. I shot Ryven a look of wide-eyed, silent pleading—don't you dare—but it was too late.
Asher chose that exact moment to push off the wall. He took a lazy, predatory step forward, his shadows stretching behind him as if they were enjoying the show.
"Oh," he drawled, his silver eyes gleaming with pure, calculated chaos. "She didn't tell you?"
The room went deathly still. Ember stopped breathing entirely, and Maddy looked ready to strangle Ryven where he stood. Jeremy's shoulders squared, his frame becoming a solid wall of earth and muscle.
"It doesn't matter," I cut in quickly, my voice firmer than I felt. "It's over."
Asher's gaze flicked to me, a faint, knowing smile playing on his lips.
Ember cleared her throat, trying to break the suffocating tension. "Yeah. Over. Dead. Buried."
Maddy elbowed Ryven hard in the ribs. "Really? You couldn't keep your mouth shut for five minutes?"
Ryven raised his hands defensively. "What? It was relevant!"
"I really need to see Aether," I said, pushing the blankets back. I was desperate for air, for distance, and for significantly less testosterone in such a confined space.
"We'll take you," Ember said instantly, moving to help me sit up.
Jeremy straightened, his gaze lingering on me. "I can't come," he said quietly, his voice softening. "But I'll see you tonight?"
The weight of the question made my cheeks flush—not with embarrassment, but with a sudden, grounding certainty. "Yeah," I said. "Tonight."
He leaned down to kiss my forehead, but before he could pull away, I caught his collar. He paused, surprise flickering in his brown eyes. I rose just enough, ignoring the sharp ache in my ribs, and pressed my lips to his.
His hand slid to the back of my neck, steadying me as he kissed me back—slow, sure, and possessive, as if he were reminding everyone in the room exactly where we stood. When I finally pulled back, his thumb brushed lightly over my skin.
"Rest," he murmured.
He straightened, gave me one last searching look, and turned toward the door.
He nearly collided with Asher on his way out. They stopped inches apart, neither yielding an inch. Jeremy held his ground, a mountain of earth magic; Asher met him with the unyielding chill of the void. No words were exchanged, only a silence so thick it felt like a physical weight.
Jeremy stepped past him without breaking eye contact. Asher didn't move until the door clicked shut. The shadows at his boots coiled once in a restless spiral, then stilled.
After I was finally discharged from the healers' wing, the five of us made our way toward the stables.
"You should've seen it, Ava," Ryven started as we reached the hitching posts, his voice practically vibrating with residual adrenaline. "The whole arena went pitch-black the second you dropped. Not dim. Not shadowy. I mean—void. Nothing."
I slowed my pace, the weight of his words sinking in.
"One second," Ryven continued, gesturing wildly with his hands, "Asher was right next to me. Calm. Broody. Pretending he wasn't about to commit murder. And the next—he was gone. Just—gone. Teleported, melted, dissolved—whatever the hell shadow dudes do."
I blinked, trying to reconcile that image with the arrogant male who had been teasing me only minutes before the duel.
"And then he was just there in the arena," Ryven said, eyes gleaming. "Inside the shield. He pulled Zorian off you with these—these shadow things. Like claws made of smoke. Ripped him back like a damn god."
My stomach tightened. "And Zya?" I asked quietly.
"Oh, she didn't wait for an invitation," Ryven said.
"She took a massive bite out of that sea freak—Styx—and the thing screamed like a dying kraken before curling right back into the fountain.
Zya dragged Aether away by the leg—no finesse, just brute force.
When the other boundlings tried to help, she snarled and nearly tore into them, too. "
"It was like she was…" Ryven trailed off, searching for the word.
"Primal," Asher finished quietly from behind us.
I made the mistake of looking up. His silver eyes were already anchored on mine, dark and unreadable.
"Yeah," Ryven said, snapping his fingers. "Exactly."
Silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable.
Then Ryven exhaled sharply. "And then Asher just—lost it. Full berserker mode. Shadows everywhere. Zorian barely got a spell up before Asher was on him. I mean—he messed him up. Guards had to physically pull him off. Even other first-years had to jump in to stop the slaughter."
"Well," Ember muttered darkly, "fucking deserved."
"Seconded," Maddy scoffed, tightening her golden braid. "Heightening against the heir? The psycho deserved worse."
"By Veyros' twisted coin," Ryven muttered, "it was the most unhinged thing I've ever seen."
The sharp, earthy scent of sun-warmed hay hit me as we stepped fully into the stables. I turned on Asher, anger flashing through me like a match striking dry air.
"You could've—"
"—Saved you?" he interrupted smoothly, his voice pure smoke and shadow. "Yes. I did."
My jaw ticked. "You didn't have to—"
"Don't," he cut in softly, his silver eyes sharpening until they looked like whetted blades. "Don't give me that look." A beat of silence passed. "A thank you would suffice, darling."
His wicked grin flashed—infuriating, deliberate, and entirely too confident. I opened my mouth to snap back, but the bond pulsed.
Hot. Alive. Angry.
My head snapped toward the far stalls. Aether.
My feet moved before I even registered the command. I sprinted down the aisle, boots pounding against the straw, the voices of the others fading behind me as they called my name.