CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ember had not stopped all gods-damned day.
The second she cornered me after the mop closet incident, I was done for.
She'd practically vibrated with protective fury and obsessive curiosity, telling me she'd been two seconds away from singeing Asher's dick off for humiliating me in the canteen.
Apparently, Ezra had to physically haul her back to keep her from committing high-tier assault on a shadow wielder.
Gods, I wished I'd seen that. But I'd cracked and confessed everything: what we'd done in that dark, cramped space and exactly what he'd said.
Ember had gone totally nuclear.
She hadn't stopped squealing or poking me since, her mind a whirlwind of "I knew it" and "Get it, girl."
He didn't even know that while I was in his arms last night, trying to find steady ground, I'd been thinking about Asher. About the thunder in his voice and the way he'd whispered that next time, no one would stop him.
Gods, what the fuck was wrong with me?
"You're a mess," Aether muttered dryly, padding beside me as we made our way toward the Tower of Archives.
"Yes," I hissed through clenched teeth, my hood pulled low to hide my flushed face. "My life is a literal gods-damned mess. I'm keeping secrets from my betrothed, lying to my bonded, and currently heading toward a forbidden basement. Iconic spiral, Aether. Truly."
I could still feel the bond, even from here. Asher was on the other side of the grounds for Riftball training. We'd grown skilled at pretending distance was protection, but the tether remained—a low, humming wire of awareness.
He thought I was spending the evening in a boring study session with Jules. Technically, I was. We were just studying things that could get us expelled. Or killed.
CI tugged my black hoodie down, my tights and boots making me feel like a shadow myself. Cloak and dagger. Perfect for a little late-night law-breaking.
As I rounded the back of the Tower of Archives, I found Jules already waiting near a cluster of ancient stone arches. Her wild orange curls were tucked beneath a heavy hood, her glasses fogging in the damp night air as she pulled her brown scholar’s robes tighter around herself.
"Jules," I whispered, checking the shadows for sentinels.
"Hey," she whispered back, her green eyes gleaming with a mixture of terror and excitement.
"What's the plan?"
She glanced around nervously, then shoved a bundle of heavy, shimmering cloth into my arms. "We're going around the Ignis Tower. There's a sealed entrance somewhere near the south wall, hidden behind old defensive vines. We'll have to look for the rune markings."
I unwrapped the bundle, feeling the strange, cool weight of the fabric. "What's this?"
"A cloaking robe," she said, a shit-eating grin breaking through her nerves. "Enchanted. Suppresses footsteps and dampens heat trails. Mostly used by upper-year scholars to sneak into the Restricted Section of the library."
I stared at her, impressed. "You've had this the whole time?"
“I have secrets, Pyreson,” she said, flipping her hood up and disappearing into the shadows beside the stone wall.
I grinned, pulling the enchanted robe over my shoulders and feeling the magic settle over me like a second, silent skin.
"Well… let's go break some rules."
We snuck through the Academy undetected. There was a Riftball friendly tonight, which meant half the student body was currently packed into the stadium or pre-gaming for the after-party.
It was the perfect window.
The shadows seemed to lean in, welcoming us as our cloaking robes hummed with a low, rhythmic magic.
We skirted the south wing of House Ignis, slipping toward the skeletal remains of the overgrown courtyard, where moonlight struggled to pierce the thick canopy.
"So," I whispered, my breath hitching, "what exactly are we looking for?"
Jules adjusted her hood, her eyes darting across the ivy-choked masonry like she was reading a map only she could see. "According to the human scholar archives, the entrance is rumored to be near the weeping vines… and a phoenix."
"A phoenix?" I echoed, a sharp pang of grief lancing through my chest.
Solas. My brother's boundling.
She had been a creature of living gold and eternal flame, a queen of the sky who had vanished the moment Jax did. Presumed dead. Grief twisted sharply beneath my ribs at the thought of her.
The bond flared instantly. High alert.
A cold, electric tingle shot up my spine, making my hair stand on end.
Shit.
“You fine?” Asher's voice purred through my mind, dark and smooth.
Gods, this male. He could feel my pulse skip from across the grounds.
"I'm fine," I sent back quickly, forcing my breathing to level out. "Just with Jules… talking girl stuff. Don't bother me for two hours. I need a break from your broody face."
Lying to him felt like swallowing glass. Don't feel guilty, I commanded myself. He'll feel the spike.
"Okay, firecracker." His mental voice was soft, laced with a rare, amused warmth. Then, his end of the bond shuttered off. For the first time in my life, I was actually grateful for those gods-damned walls of his. I desperately needed to learn how he did that.
We kept moving, Aether padding beside me with his tail stiff and his nose twitching at every stray scent.
He stopped near a cluster of thick, thorny hedges at the courtyard's edge. I followed his lead, parting the heavy vines with trembling hands.
And there she was.
A phoenix wrought in tarnished bronze perched atop a crumbling stone bench.
Her wings were folded in a gesture of eternal mourning, her head bowed low.
The edges of her metallic feathers shimmered with an ancient enchantment that prickled across my tongue.
"Jules," I hissed, my voice barely audible. "Here."
Jules rushed over, her glasses reflecting the bronze sheen. "This is it. This has to be it."
"There's no door," I muttered, scanning the solid stone base. "It's just a bench, Jules."
She looked at me and flashed a grin that was equal parts feral and brilliant.
"What?" I deadpanned.
"Give me your hand."
Before I could protest, she grabbed my wrist and guided my hand toward the phoenix's sharp, hooked beak. She pressed my index finger against the metal tip—hard.
"Jules!" I whisper-yelled as a bead of crimson blood welled and smeared across the bronze.
The bond snapped to life like a lightning strike behind my ribs.
"Ava?"
Asher's voice was sharp this time—dangerous. Too fast, too much heat pouring through the link. He'd felt the pain, no matter how small.
Godsdamnit.
"Don't worry," I sent frantically, trying to mask the surge of adrenaline. "I just nicked myself on a thorn. I'm fine. Go back to your game."
There was a long, heavy pause. I could almost see him scowling in the stadium.
"Can't even leave you alone for one night without you bleeding out," he muttered through the link, his tone a mix of exasperation and raw concern.
"It's nothing. I swear."
I felt his shadows twitch across the bond, restless and irritated, but finally, he pulled away again.
The wall slid back into place, though I could tell he was keeping it thin. That was way too close.
Then the sound started. Grinding stone. Cogs turning deep within the earth.
The bench trembled, stone groaning against stone as it swung upward to reveal a narrow spiral staircase carved directly into the earth.
“You're an Ignis heir. I figured if anything was going to open an ancient Ignis passage, it'd be royal blood.”
“You figured?”
She shrugged. “I guessed.”
I summoned a flame to each palm, lighting our path in flickering orange. The ancient stone glowed gold beneath us. As we descended deeper, faint fae-lights blinked to life along the walls one by one, casting a ghostly blue glow across carvings older than my bloodline.
"Wow," Jules breathed beside me, her voice echoing in the hollow space.
"That's creepy," I muttered, the hair on my arms standing up.
She didn't disagree. Her eyes widened as she took in the architecture.
"These catacombs are ancient magic, Ava," she whispered. "They were used during the Second War. Queen Alayna herself had this level commissioned."
I turned, the firelight from my hands dancing across her glasses. "Wait—this was hers?"
Jules nodded, her boots making a soft, rhythmic scuff on the stone. "Not many people know this, but the Academy? It was built over the foundations of her primary war fortress. “This whole place is sitting on sacred, blood-soaked ground.”
My jaw dropped. "You're telling me I've been sleeping on top of a royal stronghold this entire time?!"
“Basically,” she said casually as we rounded another turn of the staircase.
We reached the bottom, facing a massive, blackened metal door reinforced with age-worn runes and bolts the size of my forearm.
"Now what?" I asked, eyeing the threshold suspiciously.
"If this requires more blood, Asher is going to sense the spike and show up pissed as hell. I can't explain away two 'accidents' in twenty minutes."
Jules giggled, her nerves finally giving way to scholar-fueled excitement. “Relax. No bloodshed this time. It's a dual-lock mechanism.”
She pointed to a heavy, rusted lever on the side. “We have to pull it together to trip the internal counterweights.”
"Of course it is," I sighed, wiping my sweaty palms on my robe. "Gods, this thing looks like it weighs more than Aether's ego."
We both gripped the cold iron.
"One… two… three!"
We pulled with everything we had. The entire catacomb rumbled as the ancient lock groaned, grinding like the world itself was shifting on its axis.
Dust rained down from the ceiling, and somewhere behind the masonry, a heavy mechanism clicked into place.
The door creaked open, revealing a yawn of utter blackness.
The moment the seal was broken, more fae-lights flickered to life—cold and sapphire-blue. They illuminated a narrow stone corridor lined with alcoves.
And skulls.
Dozens of them, some stacked neatly, others half-cracked and forgotten in the dirt.
"Gods," I muttered, hugging my arms tightly to my chest. "Maybe we should just... not?"