CHAPTER FORTY-ONE #2
“Like, I don't even know how we're going to get through the Trials at this rate,” I breathed out, my hands going slack as the round ended.
Ember grabbed two bottles of water from the bench and tossed one to me.
"Well, clearly the bond is stronger, which is good. It’ll make the Trials easier. You two always focus better when you're together; you work as a team. I wish I had that," she murmured, her gaze flickering toward Ezra with a shadow of frustration.
I unscrewed the cap, taking a long swig of the cold water, but my mind snagged on her tone. I stepped closer, lowering my voice.
"Okay, Ember, tell me. What the hell is going on with you two?"
Ember stared at the dirt, her shoulders slumping in a way I’d never seen before. Usually, she was all sharp edges and fire, but now she just looked hollow.
"Something happened between these two," I murmured, my worry bleeding into the bond.
“Yeah, he’s upset,” Asher sent back.
I glanced over and saw Ezra in a foul mood, his strikes against Asher coming far too fast and vicious for a standard drill.
Asher caught his fist, stopping him mid-swing, and seemed to scold him, his jaw set in that hard, commanding line.
"I will see you later. I’ve got to handle this," Asher sent, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I caught his gaze across the yard and nodded once. He gave me a tight, lingering smile before turning to follow Ezra out of the training grounds.
I turned back to Ember, who had clearly watched the exchange. I raised an eyebrow, giving her a pointed look.
"What?" she snapped, folding her arms across her chest and dropping onto the wooden bench.
"Ember." I sat down next to her, the wood creaking under our weight. "Stop deflecting. It’s me. Tell me."
I gave her the "pouty eyes"—the ones she usually claimed were my secret weapon against the world.
She rolled hers, a huff of breath escaping her, but I could see the genuine sadness swirling in the depths of her gaze.
“He just wants more, Ava. More of me,” she whispered, her voice so low I almost missed it over the sound of the other students’ training. She picked at a loose thread on her glove, refusing to look at me.
"He wants... he wants the kind of soul-deep certainty you and Asher have. But every time he gets close, every time he tries to peel back a layer, I freeze. I push him away before he can see the parts of me that are broken."
She finally looked up, her eyes swimming. "Last night, he told me he was tired of chasing a ghost. He said if I’m not all in by the time the Veylaith trial starts, he’s done. He won't be my partner in the Trials just to be a placeholder for a heart I won't give him."
My heart sank. The Trials required absolute trust, especially for the final phases. If they were fractured now, the Pit would eat them alive.
"Ember, you love him," I said softly, reaching out to cover her hand with mine. “You’re not a ghost, Em. You’re just fucking terrified of letting him have all of you.”
Ember’s hand shook under mine. She let out a sharp, jagged breath that sounded more like a sob she was trying to kill.
"I know I love him, Ava. That’s the fucking problem," she hissed, finally looking at me with eyes that were raw and red-rimmed.
"When I look at him, I don't just see Ezra. I see everything I could lose."
I squeezed her hand, feeling the tremors of her fear.
“And Ezra isn't a placeholder. But you’re treating him like one because it’s safer than admitting he’s your entire world.”
She looked away, watching the spot where Ezra and Asher had disappeared.
"He told me last night that if I can't look him in the eye and tell him I'm his—all in, no more walls—before we step into that Arena tomorrow... then we’re just two people fighting a war, not a team. And he’s right. I’m terrified, Ava.
I’m fucking terrified that if I say it, the universe will take him just to spite me. "
"The universe doesn't give a shit about our feelings, but Ezra does," I said firmly, standing up and pulling her with me.
"Go find him. Don't let him walk into the Trials thinking he’s fighting for someone who’s already halfway out the door."
She nodded slowly, wiping her face with the back of her glove.
"Yeah. Okay. I... I'll try."
Ember reached out, pulling me into a brief, tight hug. It was the only crack in her armor she allowed me to see.
"Thanks, Ava," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the wind. She stepped back, her expression hardening once more into the fierce warrior I knew, and turned to leave.
I watched her jog off toward the gates, hopefully toward the one person who made the fear worth facing.
I stood alone in the training yard for a moment, the setting sun casting long, jagged shadows across the stone.
The illness. The crown. The way the bond felt like it was evolving into something primal, something different.
I had plenty of secrets. And tomorrow, the Trials were going to start digging them up.
···
The sun finally dipped below the horizon, bleeding a bruised purple across the sky that matched the growing ache in my chest.
The training yard was nearly empty now, the rhythmic clack of wooden swords replaced by the haunting whistle of the winter wind through the stone arches.
I stood there alone, the sweat cooling on my skin, and felt the tether. It was a physical weight now, a golden-black cord that pulsed with every beat of Asher’s heart.
He was handling Ezra. He was being the leader, the soldier, the male who had survived Umbra and come back with silver in his eyes.
But as I looked down at my own hands,
I saw the faint, flickering embers of my magic—unsteady, beautiful, and dying.
The Trials weren't just a test of strength.
They were a countdown. I had to survive the different phases.
I had to survive the Veylaith, where the shadows spoke and the trees moved. And then, at the very end, I had to stand across from the only person who made my soul feel whole and fight him.
“Ava.” His voice didn't come through the bond this time. It was a low, rough vibration in the air behind me.
I turned to find him standing in the shadows of the gateway, his gear back on, his expression unreadable.
"Is he okay?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Asher walked toward me, his boots heavy on the stone.
He stopped and reached out, his thumb skimming my jaw, his eyes searching mine with a terrifying intensity.
"He’s as ready as he’s going to be," Asher murmured. He leaned down, his forehead resting against mine, and for a moment, the world stopped spinning.
"But forget about them. Look at me."
I met his silver gaze, the fire in my blood rising to meet his shadow.
"Tomorrow, the world tries to break us," he whispered, his hand sliding to the back of my neck, his grip possessive and firm.
"Let them try. We are the flame and the ruin, Ava. And by the time the Trials are over, they’ll realize we aren't just playing for the Guard."
He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear, sending a shiver of pure, cold heat through my entire body.
"We're playing to show them who the next queen will be."
He kissed me then—not with the hunger of the afternoon, but with
a solemn, bone-deep promise.
"We're playing to burn it all down."
I closed my eyes, leaning into him as the first snow of the season began to fall, dusting the arena floor where tomorrow, our war would truly begin.