CHAPTER FOURTEEN #2
He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against my back.
At the bottom of the stands, Maddy and Ryven sat side-by-side, stiff as statues. Even from here, the tension was a physical weight—whatever had gone down last night clearly hadn't been smoothed over. Ryven looked wretched; Maddy looked ready to commit a felony.
One by one, the girls were called. Zaria was incredible, flipping high into the air with water swirls spiraling around her like sapphire ribbons.
Maddy followed, her Ventus grace flawless as she looped glowing air-streams through the cheering crowd.
Then Ember strutted out, a literal firecracker, landing a backflip in a split as flames erupted behind her like a supernova.
And then—
"Ava Pyreson."
Gods damn it.
The crowd hushed. I stepped onto the field, my heart thundering like war drums against my ribs. Sweat beaded at my temples, but it wasn't from the heat—it was the bond. It was the magic. It was the absolute chaos screaming inside my veins.
I dipped into the well of flame at my core, reaching for the familiar spark—
And it roared back.
It wasn't a wave; it was a volcanic eruption. Violent. White-hot. Too much. For a heartbeat, I felt like I was being incinerated from the inside out.
My vision blurred, the world turning into a haze of amber and heat.
The music kicked in, and muscle memory took over.
I launched into a back handspring, landing with a punch of my fist that sent scarlet and molten orange spiraling around me.
But the air cracked too loudly against the flames.
It felt like the fire was thrashing, trying to tear its way out of my skin.
"Young one. You're pulling too deep," Aether's voice strained in my mind, sharp with warning.
I couldn't stop. I pushed harder. Twists. Kicks. A handspring into a split. Fire chased every move, but it wasn't dancing anymore—it was hunting. Pain bloomed beneath my ribs, a pressurized heat that made my skin sizzle.
My fingertips sparked white—blinding and terrifying.
When I flung my arms out for the finale, the flames burst across the field like massive, jagged wings. They were too bright, too big, slamming against the stadium's shimmering wards with a force that made the ground tremble.
The crowd erupted. The cheers were deafening.
But I was shaking, my breath coming in scorched hitches. The Core didn't settle when I tried to pull it back. It pulsed, surging against my chest like a trapped animal.
"Get off the field, now," Aether hissed, his panic finally bleeding through the bond. "You're not regulating it—your body cannot hold this much."
Damn this fucking illness. I turned and walked, every step burning from within as my vision swam. The heat wasn't fading—it was radiating outward from my chest like a furnace door left open.
And then—Asher was there.
He pushed through the crowd, reaching for me. "Ava—"
His hand caught my wrist, and he flinched. He hissed, letting go instantly. I looked down and saw his fingertips reddening where they'd touched my skin. My body was literally radiating heat, the air shimmering around my arms.
"What the hell—" he muttered, shaking out his hand, silver eyes blazing. "You're burning up. Your skin is like a godsdamn hearth."
"I'm fine," I said, my voice thin and hoarse. "I just—overdid it."
"You nearly combusted," he snapped, stepping into my space despite the heat. "You think I can't feel it? You're at the edge of burnout—your magic's trying to consume you."
I gulped down water, my hands trembling. "I just need rest."
His voice dropped low, furious. "No. You need control."
I staggered around the corner, my shoulder brushing his. This time he didn't flinch; he just walked beside me like a storm waiting to break. But all I could think about was how close I'd come to burning, to breaking, to losing myself completely.
Asher stopped and caught my wrist gently. I didn't pull away.
"What was that?" he asked, his tone calmer now but edged in concern. "That wasn't just exhaustion, Ava."
I swallowed hard. "I don't know," I said. "Maybe it's the anxiety. Or the bond. Or—everything."
"She's losing control because she has no training. You need to help her, Darkling."
Aether's voice slid into our thoughts before I could say more. Asher's brows rose. He went perfectly still.
"Did he just—did we both hear that?" Asher asked aloud, his eyes wide.
I blinked. "Aether?"
"You're not imagining things," the panther grumbled. "No idea how, but it felt like I could speak to both of you just now. Probably a side effect of your bond getting stronger—and your power being, well, all over the place."
And then—a new voice slithered into my mind. Silken. Dry. Amused.
"Your fire's got bite, princess."
I gasped. "Zya?" I turned toward Asher.
He nodded once, a crooked, stunned grin tugging at his mouth. "Looks like the cats are out of the bag. They're both in on this now."
I looked between our two boundlings, then back at him, stunned. "Is this normal?"
Aether made a noise like a grumble and a sigh had a baby. "With a blood oath? Rare. But it happened—thousands of years ago. Some bonded pairs had boundlings who could all share a mental channel. You two might've just unlocked that frequency."
And then he added, his voice low and grim. "Don't be surprised when the dark one starts slipping into your head too."
"What?" I blinked, horrified. "No. Please, no."
Beside me, Asher let out a slow, satisfied smirk like he'd just been crowned King of Lyr'n'dell.
"Gods, you're enjoying this," I muttered.
"I mean," he said, lifting a shoulder with maddening innocence, "sharing a mind-link? With you? All those spicy thoughts you try to hide? I can't wait, darling."
"I will hex your mouth shut."
Asher just kept smirking, the picture of smug satisfaction.
Gods help me.
"And I blame your unstable hormones," Aether muttered, his mental voice dripping with feline disdain.
"You love me," I shot back, though my voice was still a little thready.
Asher rubbed a hand over his face, muttering something about how this bond was going to be the death of him. But when our eyes met, the irritation was just a thin veil for what lay beneath.
Concern. Raw and jagged.
"Whatever this is," he said slowly, "we need to get ahead of it. You nearly combusted on the field, Ava."
"I know," I whispered, the memory of that white-hot void making my stomach churn.
"You weren't just throwing fire," he went on, his jaw tightening until the bone jumped. "You were pulling too much magic—too fast."
Too deep.
I looked down at my trembling fingers. Faint heat still shimmered just beneath the surface of my skin, making the air around my hands look like a desert mirage.
"It felt like the well I usually draw from cracked open too wide," I admitted, my voice barely audible over the distant roar of the stadium.
"Like it wasn't just flame. Like I hit the center of it. "
The Core.
The word pulsed quietly in my mind, heavy and ancient.
Asher's gaze sharpened instantly. His shadows shifted, tightening at his shoulders like a physical manifestation of his unease. "The bond's intensifying," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "And it's amplifying your channel. If you're not regulating the Core properly, it's going to flood you."
Flood. That's exactly what it had felt like. A tidal wave of fire that didn't care if I had a body to hold it.
Aether stepped closer, his golden eyes narrowed into slits. "You weren't drawing. You were ripping," he said grimly through the link. "The Core doesn't like that."
I swallowed hard, the copper taste of the illness still lingering on my tongue.
"You need training," Aether continued, his presence looming large in my mind. "Real training. Not dueling drills. Control training. Before you lose control again."
Lose control. The words sat heavy in the air between us. I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly, trying to steady the heat still humming in my chest. The Core hadn't fully settled; it was quieter now, tucked back into its cage, but it was watchful. Waiting.
"Fine," I said at last, opening my eyes to meet Asher's silver stare. "But not now."
Asher tilted his head slightly, his gaze raking over my pale face. "Where are you going?"
"To the library," I replied, straightening my spine despite the ache in my ribs. "I need answers." I hesitated, the sudden hollow feeling in my stomach reminding me I hadn't eaten since the moonberry muffin. "And I need food before I pass out."
His silver eyes softened just a fraction—just enough to undo me a little.
"Then I'll walk you there," he said. "And I'll bring the food."
I blinked, surprised by the lack of a snide comment. "You don't have to—"
"I'm your bonded," he cut in smoothly, his usual smirk returning like a shield. "Which apparently now includes dealing with your annoying panther and mine."
"We heard that," Aether and Zya said in perfect, terrifying unison.
We both winced at the double-layered mental shout.
"This," Asher muttered, falling into step beside me, his shadows brushing lightly against my heel like a dark, silent promise, "is going to be very interesting."
···
We stopped at the canteen before heading in.
"You get mean when you don't eat," he said, handing me a warm apricot pastry like it was some kind of truce offering.
"I'm always mean."
He grinned. "Exactly."
We left with a half-stolen breakfast and slipped into the edge of the human side of the Academy, where the Tower of Archives rose like a relic from another world.
The runes carved into its stone pulsed faintly with ancient energy, and the air around it felt colder, heavier—as if even time had to behave here.
Inside, the Archives were hushed. Lanterns floated like quiet stars above endless rows of scroll racks and hovering transcribing glyphs. Human scholars moved between tables, heads down, hands ink-stained.
"Jules!" I called softly.