CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Asher and I strolled into History class, and whispers coiled through the air like smoke, following us between the desks. I was certain the whole godsdamn Academy already knew.
Of course they did.
Blood oaths. Bond marks. Jeremy was likely still storming down the corridor, and Asher was smirking as if the shadows themselves were whispering secrets to him.
We made our way to our usual row. Ezra lounged next to Darcy, both pretending not to notice us but clearly dying to ask questions.
Sera sat stiffly beside them, glancing once at me and Asher before quickly looking away.
Ryven and Maddy were sharing a sweet pastry she'd smuggled in, while Ember practically bounced in her seat the moment she saw me.
I slid in next to her and gave her a warning look, but she just grinned harder.
And then—because of course he did—Asher sat right next to me.
"Why do you need to sit next to me?" I snapped, my jaw tight.
"Anything can happen," he responded smoothly.
"It's a history class, Maddox," I hissed. "The only thing that might attack me is boredom."
He flashed me a wide grin, obnoxiously pleased with himself
"And I'm your bonded. What if someone tries to assassinate you with a flying textbook?"
By the fire-eyed gaze of Ignis, I was going to murder him. And still, his shadows slithered up my calves, curling around my thighs like smoke—protective, possessive, and incredibly inconvenient. I shifted in my seat, glaring at him from the corner of my eye.
Damn these skirts.
Professor Thandros entered, tall and angular in his usual dark robes, and moved straight to the projector. "Good morning, everyone," he said in that dry, ancient tone of his. "Today's topic: Myths and Legends of the Forgotten Realms. Specifically... the Veyari."
A few students gasped. Others muttered under their breath. Thandros clicked to the next slide, and an old, crackled illustration flickered onto the wall—dark figures with glowing eyes, crouched beside monstrous winged beasts.
"The Veyari," he began, "are said to have been an ancient race of immortal shapeshifters—beings of void and shadow. Dangerous. Elusive. Hunted to extinction." He paused for dramatic effect.
"Their magic was powerful, yes. But what made them feared—truly feared—was a combination of traits no other fae race possessed. They were faster than lightning. Stronger than steel. They could shapeshift into other people, beasts, and even hybrid forms. They had red, feline-like eyes and fangs."
Several students murmured, and my heart thudded harder.
Not just decorative fangs, either,” he went on, pacing before the class. "Fangs they used to feed. They drank blood—not because they needed it to survive, but because it enhanced their connection to magic. Especially fae blood. Especially the blood of their fated mates."
He clicked the projector again. A massive wyvern appeared on the screen, dark wings spread, smoke curling from its nostrils. "These were their boundlings. The Vel'tara. Sacred wyverns. More dragon than beast—terrifying in scale, sentient, and said to be able to take on smaller animal forms."
The projector went black.
“But all of this,” Thandros said, turning back to us, “is history. The Veyari are extinct. They vanished from the known kingdoms centuries ago. The Astral Guard has explored beyond our borders and found no evidence of a surviving population. What remains of them now are fragments of old records, legends, and bedtime stories meant to scare children and excite young minds.”
A student in the back raised a hand lazily. “So what’s the difference between an Umbra student and a Veyari?”
A few chuckled. Thandros didn't smile
“A good question. Umbra students wield shadow magic, but their magic carries a distinct violet hue. It’s why violet has been associated with House Umbra for centuries. They can teleport through shadows, cloak themselves, manipulate darkness, and bend it to their will. Useful. Impressive.”
He held up a finger.
“But the Veyari were something else entirely.”
The room quieted.
“Their magic was said to be pure black. No violet. No light. Just darkness.”
Thandros began pacing slowly between the desks.
“And perhaps their most infamous ability was shapeshifting. A Veyari could alter their appearance, take another form, become someone you trusted. The old stories claimed one could walk into your home wearing your brother’s face, and you wouldn’t know the difference until it was too late.”
A few students shifted uneasily.
“They were stronger, faster, and far more dangerous than an ordinary shadow wielder. Some records even claimed they could tear a soul from a body with nothing more than a look.”
He stopped.
“The Veyari didn’t simply wield shadows.”
His voice lowered.
“They were shadows.”
A beat of silence.
“And they were immortal.”
Nervous laughter rippled through the room.
Thandros gave a dismissive shrug. “Or, at least, that’s what the surviving records would have us believe.”
A hush settled over the room. No one laughed now.
I knew about the Veyari. Of course we all did.
My father used to tell bedtime stories about them—tales of fanged, immortal shapeshifters with red, soulless eyes who drank your blood to drain your power.
They were anything but soothing. He'd gather me, Jax, and Ember on stormy nights and spin yarns of predators with eyes like spilled blood and fangs that glistened red under the moonlight. It scared the shit out of me.
Jax? He loved them. He'd stay up reading ancient fables, whispering theories about how maybe—just maybe—they weren't really gone.
He believed they existed beyond the monoliths, traversing the night on their Vel'tara wyverns.
He used to swear he'd seen one once, a glimpse of vacant eyes glinting in the trees.
Ember and I would scream, and he'd laugh like it was the best thing in the world.
I pressed a hand to my chest. Thank the gods they weren't real. Thank the gods we were safe.
···
By the time the bell rang, I was more than ready to bolt. Unfortunately, next was Potions, which is where I accidentally turned Asher's skin a vibrant, sky blue.
He was not happy about it.
"I swear, if this doesn't come off in twenty minutes, I'm staging a rebellion," he growled, glaring at his hands as if he could shadow-blast the dye from his pores.
I was laughing so hard I nearly dropped a glass beaker. "You look like a cursed blueberry!"
He narrowed his silver eyes and muttered something under his breath—and suddenly, two enormous antlers popped out of my head like I was some sort of woodland beast.
"You look majestic," he said dryly. "Like a forest princess."
"I am going to murder you," I hissed, swatting at the velvet bone. "With the antlers."
By lunch, we'd both returned to our normal selves—mostly—and our usual table was already full. The group immediately pounced before we could even sit down.
"So…" Ezra began, dragging the word out until it snapped.
Sera arched a brow. "The bond?"
"Was it intimate?" Darcy asked, half-hiding behind her teacup but looking far too fascinated.
They were leaning so far over the table they were practically in my lap. Asher, ever the gentleman, offered only a charming, impenetrable smile.
"I'm afraid I can't speak of sacred rituals," he said. "Protector's code."
"And neither can we," Ember added primly, flipping her braid over her shoulder. "Witness confidentiality."
Maddy nodded with a sly grin. "Strictly classified."
"Ugh," Sera groaned, flopping back. "You're all insufferable."
Just then, a fae girl from House Terra waltzed by, handing out shimmering flyers. Her hair was braided in golden coils, and her wings sparkled with dust. "House Terra party tonight," she chirped, placing one in front of each of us. "Biggest one of the year."
"Yes!" Ember squealed before I could even blink. "We are totally going."
Gods help me. Jeremy would be there. Everyone turned to look at me—and then at Asher. He didn't say anything, just raised one brow with that lazy, predatory smile.
"What are we doing, Princess?" he asked, his voice dipped in amusement.
I groaned. "Fine. We're going. But you are not glued to my side like a leather-clad barnacle."
"Noted," he replied. "But I am your Protector. Can't let some drunk air-wielder spill a drink on your bond mark, can I?"
"Gods, it's like having a babysitter," I muttered.
Then Ryven—because of course it would be Ryven—blurted out, "Wait… so you guys didn't hook up?"
I choked so hard on my moonberry muffin I nearly saw stars. "RYVEN!"
Maddy slapped my back. "Gods, Ryv, do you want her to die before the Aegos Trials?"
I croaked, wiping my eyes and glaring at them all. They were still staring at me expectantly, like I was an exhibit in a scandal museum. "Gods, no," I snapped. "Guys, I'm betrothed, remember?"
They all burst out laughing.
"That's, like, in four years," Sera said dryly, sipping her juice.
"And the bond's kinda hard to ignore anyway," Ezra added, smirking as he glanced at Asher. Oh gods. He knew. Of course he knew about the bedroom incident.
"No," I said, lifting my chin. "We are not hooking up. Bummer for you guys."
The collective pout across the table was almost impressive.
"We're just friends," I added firmly. "There are boundaries in place to make sure this bond doesn't make me lose my mind."
Ember smirked into her goblet.
"Yes. Besties," Asher added with far too much smugness, casually taking one of my blueberries and popping it into his mouth. Then, he draped an arm over the back of my chair like he owned the place. Shadows coiled around my neck, lazy and possessive.
I elbowed him. "Stop."
And then—because the universe hates me—Ryven leaned forward again. "So… you wouldn't mind if he hooked up with someone else, right?"
My heart thundered. I felt the bond twist, something sharp and territorial slicing through my gut. The flames responded before I could think—curling up my arms like fire-kissed armor. Everyone froze. I exhaled, deep and controlled, forcing the fire back.