CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
It was the day before the Aegos Trials.
The air in the training yard was thick with the scent of impending violence.
But right now, I wasn't thinking about the Trials; I was looking at a male who could have given the God of War a run for his fucking coins.
Asher stared with a calculated malice, his shorts hanging low on his hips, shirtless and lethal.
Under that facade, I knew exactly how much he wanted to pin me to the dirt—he was insatiable.
Every day since his return had been a blur of either training until we bled or fucking until we couldn't breathe.
Without warning, he blasted a shadow tendril at my head.
I barely whipped to the side, the dark energy whistling past my ear.
My eyes hardened.
I ran at him, my palms igniting as I struck first with a fireball that grazed the shell of his ear.
The sharp smell of singed hair filled the air, and a wicked grin pulled at my lips.
A bead of blood bloomed at the tip of his ear—he’d heal, but gods, I loved the thrill of drawing it.
He wiped the blood away, his silver eyes flashing.
"Good one, firecracker," he murmured, licking the crimson from his fingers.
I was momentarily distracted by the sight of his tongue against his skin, and that was all the opening he needed.
He caught me with a kick to the stomach.
I hurled backward, gasping, but the impact was cushioned by a sudden wall of shadows that caught me before I hit the stone.
"Hey, don't do that," I seethed, trying to scramble up. "I can take a fucking fall."
"Oh, I know, darling," he murmured, his shadows suddenly snaking around my limbs and pinning me to the ground.
He walked over, standing with a foot on either side of my hips before crouching low.
He flicked my nose, a gesture so casual it made me huff in frustration.
"I just like seeing you squirm under me."
His voice was lethal, the kind of tone that made my heart stutter.
My gaze locked onto his, searching for a crack in his composure, but he just grinned.
He wiped more blood from his ear and shoved his thumb into my mouth.
I moaned around it, the metallic tang of him hitting my tongue like an aphrodisiac.
"There we go," he whispered. I arched my back against the dirt, wanting more, needing the friction.
He smiled with predatory satisfaction.
Suddenly, his shadows hoisted me up, slamming me against the nearest stone wall.
My back ached at the impact, but the heat between my legs was screaming louder.
He walked over, pinning me with his body, and used his feet to hook my ankles and push my legs wider.
"We can't—" I panted, my breath hitching as his heat radiated off him.
"And why is that?" he asked, his face inches from mine.
"It’s public. Someone could walk in at any time—" I wriggled in the shadows' grasp, my heart hammering.
He gripped my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.
"Does it look like I give a fuck?"
He definitely did not.
That absolute lack of restraint was what scared and thrilled me the most.
He took his bloodied thumb and trailed it slowly down my chest, over the curve of my breasts to the edge of my sports bra.
In one fluid, practiced motion, he unhooked the clasp.
His lips crushed onto mine, tasting of blood and salt and a hunger that promised to burn the whole Academy down before he let me go.
His hand gripped my waist, bruising the skin as he hauled me flush against him.
I just melted in his arms, the defiance draining out of me.
"Asher—" I pleaded through the bond, the word a shattered whisper in his mind.
"What do you want, princess?" he replied, his voice a jagged rasp as he ground his length against mine.
The absolute, starving need poured from him to me and back again.
I didn’t know what the fuck was happening to the bond lately, but it ached and roared with a new, feral intensity.
We were volatile and perfect all at once.
"I want you, but we cannot fuck here," I moaned, even as his hand slid into my tights to rub against my aching center.
"Yes, we can." He ground into me harder, and my head fell back against the stone. He didn't waste a second, burying his face in my neck.
"I just can’t keep my fucking hands off you," he murmured against my pulse.
I whimpered, my fingers tangling in his damp hair.
“Your scent, gods, Ava… it’s stronger. More potent. It’s fucking intoxicating.”
He bit my neck, and I groaned, the sensation bordering on pain. He was right—everything had changed.
His scent had shifted into something darker, stronger—like the smell of rain after a heavy storm mixed with a sharp, addictive spice.
It made every nerve ending scream. It had to be the bond.
Reality tried to resurface as he dragged my tights down, the cool air hitting my thighs. "Asher—"
He pressed a finger to my lips, silencing me as he freed his length.
I looked down, my mouth watering for him, but he caught my chin, forcing me to look at him.
"You can do that later, when we have time," he promised.
"But for now, I need to feel you clench around me."
I just nodded, my resolve snapping.
"Fuck it," I breathed, pulling him into a searing kiss.
A jolt of dark approval shot through the bond, but then the sound of voices hit the air.
My eyes widened.
“Asher,” I sent frantically through our link.
He just smiled wickedly. No—
"Shh," he whispered aloud. In one fluid motion, he slammed me against the side wall, spinning me around until my chest hit the rough stone.
He braced his arm across my mouth to muffle the impact and silence any stray cries as his length shot straight into me.
I cried out into his skin, a mix of sharp pain and overwhelming pleasure as he filled me to the brim.
Shadows suddenly erupted around us, thick and impenetrable, encasing us in a private world of darkness just as students began to swarm into the training ground.
I could hear the clank of wooden swords and the chatter of my classmates only feet away, but all I could focus on was the way he pounded into me.
The thrill of being so close to being found, of being watched by eyes that couldn't see us, was electric.
"You're a dirty little thing," he murmured through the bond, his hot breath ghosting over my ear.
Through the veil of his shadows, we could see everyone—Ezra laughing,
Darcy stretching—but to them, we were just a flicker of moonlight against a wall.
I felt the heavy hum of a silence spell settling over us, cloaking the sounds of our bodies colliding and my muffled gasps.
He didn't slow down, his hands anchoring my hips as he claimed me right in the middle of the crowded yard.
He was relentless, his rhythm fueled by the risk of the crowd only feet away.
I could see Maddy and Zaria laughing near the weapon racks, and the sight of them—so oblivious to the raw, carnal display happening right beside them—sent a fresh wave of heat through my core.
My nails clawed at the rough stone of the wall, my magic flickering in desperate, low-burning embers that his shadows instantly smothered.
"Look at them, Ava," he whispered, his voice a dark thread in my mind. "They have no idea what I’m doing to you."
He pulled back nearly all the way before slamming home again, his hips hitting mine with a wet, heavy thud that I felt in my teeth.
I choked back a scream against his forearm, my body arching into his as the pressure built to a breaking point.
The bond was screaming now, a discordant, beautiful symphony of our combined lust and the dark, jagged edge of his power.
"I can't—" I gasped into the bond, my vision starting to swim with gray spots.
"Yes, you can," he growled.
He reached around, his hand finding my center and grinding his palm against me with punishing force.
"Take it for me. Right here. With them watching."
The irony was delicious. The "perfect" princess of House Ignis, being broken and rebuilt by the shadow of Umbra in the middle of a public training yard.
The sheer wrongness of it was what finally pushed me over the edge. I came with a muffled, high-pitched keen that died against his skin, my muscles clamping around him in a desperate, rhythmic pulse.
Asher let out a low, guttural sound, his head dropping to the crook of my neck as he followed me into the abyss.
He shuddered against me, his shadows flaring briefly in a wild, uncontrolled burst before settling back into a calm, impenetrable veil.
We stayed there for a heartbeat, heaving for air in the silent, dark pocket he’d created.
Outside the shadows, the sounds of practice continued—the clashing of wooden blades and the barked orders of the instructors—completely unaware of the wreckage we’d just made of each other.
He slowly withdrew, his hands lingering on my hips as he leaned down to kiss the mark he’d left on my shoulder.
"Now," he murmured, his voice returning to that lazy, lethal rasp as he started to help me pull my clothes back together.
"Let's go show them why they should be fucking terrified of the Trials."
···
The rest of the session was a blur of sweat and high-intensity drills.
We cycled through the other drills, and by some miracle, no one seemed to notice a thing—except for Ember.
She was holding the pads for me now, her eyes sharp as she absorbed the impact of my punches.
"So you guys fucked right over there, didn't you?" she breathed, a huff of a laugh escaping her as I landed a solid right hook.
"Yeah... fuck, I don't know what's going on." We swapped places, my turn to hold the pads as she stepped into her stance.
"Well, I mean, two weeks is a long time for Fae," she murmured, her left glove connecting with a sharp crack against my palm.
"I know, but this is way different than before," I said, adjusting my grip as she came at me again.
"I don't know how to explain it, but gods, it's feral."
I couldn't help it—my gaze drifted over to Asher.
He was doing the same drill with Ezra, his movements fluid and lethal. He felt my eyes on him instantly and flashed a grin that was nothing but pure, unadulterated heat.
It poured through the bond like molten lead, settling deep in my gut. Fuck. Again.
I swallowed hard and forced myself to look back at Ember.