CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The Veylaith Woods waited.
There would be no humming drones, no roaring crowds, and no sanitized arena walls—just ancient trees older than the monoliths, their roots coiled in shadow, whispering gods-only-know-what.
Twenty competitors remained.
Twenty bands pulsed on our wrists with a ghostly, rhythmic glow, the only thread between life and oblivion. Each heartbeat marked who still breathed, who had fallen, and who the Academy still watched.
The final trial was simple, yet ruinous.
We had to survive the primordial hunger of the Woods, endure the tightening throat of the shrinking radius, and outlast every other team until only one remained. And then, the ultimate cruelty: turn on each other.
One champion.
One crown. One coveted seat in the Astral Guard.
I adjusted my leathers on the contestants’ mat, my fingers fumbling with the buckle.
My body ached—sore didn’t even touch it.
Bruises were layered over bruises, my muscles screaming from the last match, and the fresh stitches on my thigh burned with every shift of my weight.
My magic had clawed its way back from the brink, but it felt jagged and raw.
And beside me stood Asher. My beautiful, lethal undoing.
He bent to stretch, the black leathers molding to his frame like a second skin made of shadow.
His dark hair fell forward as he reached for his boots, looking every bit the apex predator even after days of relentless carnage.
He was unshakable, a steady pulse of silver-eyed steel in a world made of glass.
“You keep staring like that and I’ll forget there’s an audience watching.”
My stomach flipped, a traitorous thrill racing through me. Gods, this male.
Even now, after the steam and the desperation of our shower—after he’d tenderly rubbed the tension from my shoulders and playfully tickled me until I finally fell into a dreamless sleep—he still had the power to make me melt.
I tightened my grip on my dagger, looking toward the high wall that separated us from the unknown.
The Woods were hungry, but we weren't just prey. We were the storm.
"Let them watch," I sent back, my gaze hardening as the transport runes beneath our feet began to hum. "Let's give them a final act they'll never forget."
The horns sounded, deep and resonant, slicing through the buzz of conversation. The crowd fell still as the announcer strode to the platform at the arena’s edge, his armor gleaming beneath the light of the twin suns.
“Competitors, today marks the beginning of the final phase of the Aegos Trials.”
The crowd erupted—cheers, stomps, the crackle of magic flaring in the stands.
He lifted a hand, silencing them. “Each of you will wear a band that tracks your life signature for the Academy. It will flare if you or your team is eliminated, allowing us to monitor your safety and progress. There will be no drones, no healers, and no arena walls—only your heartbeat and your bond. The rest is up to you.”
The murmurs rippled through the crowd like wind through flame.
“The Veylaith Woods will not remain endless,” the announcer continued.
“Every hour, the radius will shrink, driving you closer and closer together until, by the third day, only a narrow circle remains. When the last team stands, partners will turn against one another—until a single champion claims the crown and a place in the Astral Guard.”
The stands erupted again—cheers, jeers, shouts of names and House banners flashing in the light.
He smiled then, sharp as a blade. “No killing. Injuries will be healed once you are eliminated. The goal, as always, is survival, skill, and cunning. Outlast. Outthink. Endure.”
He paused, the weight of the moment stretching taut as a bowstring.
“May the gods be in your favor.”
The crowd exploded—stomping, chanting, a feverish roar.
And then Asher’s hand closed around my waist, his palm settling over the bond mark and holding me there.
“Ava,” he said—low, rough, almost broken.
His forehead pressed to mine, eyes shut like he was trying to memorize the feel of me.
His grip tightened, dragging me fully against his chest.
Before I could even take a breath he was kissing me, hard, desperate, nothing gentle about it.
The world tilted as he pulled me in tighter, his mouth moving against mine like he was trying to brand the moment into both of us.
I gasped against him, and he groaned low, the sound vibrating down my spine.
“Gods, you’re my beginning and my end,” he sent through the bond, raw and rough. “My future wife.”
The words detonated inside me just as the warp took hold. The arena, the crowd, the chant, all of it ripped away in a rush of shadow and light as the Veylaith Woods swallowed us whole.
The transition from the roar of the arena to the absolute, crushing silence of the Veylaith Woods was enough to make my head spin. I could never get used to this feeling. Gods, it was the worst.
My eyes were shut tight, my braid whipping side to side. The only thing keeping me from hurling was the hands digging into my waist, strong and unyielding.
"Breathe," he murmured through the bond as the magic spun us, faster and faster, until the ground slammed under my boots.
We hit solid earth tangled together, his arms locked around me. For a second, neither of us moved.
My lungs burned; the world tilted. I let go first, stumbling forward and dropping to my knees.
My palms pressed into damp moss as I tried to steady my breathing. The air was thick and cool, smelling of pine and something ancient.
Behind me, I could hear Asher’s breathing—fast, heavy, uneven. His heartbeat thudded hard enough for me to feel it through the bond.
"Turn around," Aether said, his voice low and rough in my head.
"What?" I rasped.
"Just turn around, flame one,"
I pushed the hair from my face and turned. Asher was on one knee.
My breath caught. "Asher… what are you doing?"
Aether padded closer, his massive black paws silent on the moss, the flame-tipped fur of his tail flicking like a living torch in the gloom.
"The male is trying to ask you," he said dryly.
Zya slunk from the shadows, sleek and massive, her silver eyes bright as she settled beside him.
"Darling," Asher said, grinning now—that dangerous, beautiful grin that always made my pulse trip.
He held out a ring that shimmered faintly, the metal catching the light like liquid moonfire.
Its band was etched with delicate runes that shimmered silver, the unmistakable work of fae starlight.
"I meant it," he said, his voice rough but steady. "You are my everything. I can’t breathe without you. I’d drown the realms in darkness before I let them take you from me.
I know I asked before, but I wanted to do it right this time.
" He swallowed hard, his eyes bright. "So, firecracker… will you marry me?"
A tear slid down his cheek, and gods, that undid me. This male—the brooding, impossible bastard who always kept the world at arm’s length—was mine. My heart stuttered. Tears blurred my vision as I dropped to my knees in front of him, hands cradling his face.
"Yes," I whispered.
For a heartbeat, the Veylaith Woods disappeared.
There was only us, the mist curling around our knees, and the faint shimmer of starlight between our hands.
In an instant, his lips crashed into mine—and gods, I turned molten. The bond purred, hungry and wild.
I wanted to climb him, take him right there against the nearest tree.
He pulled back, grinning, and I couldn’t stop the pout that slipped out.
"Firecracker," he murmured, his eyes gone black with hunger.
I could feel his restraint fraying, the thin thread holding him back. "Gods, I want to fuck you against this tree."
My thighs clenched, a helpless whimper catching in my throat.
"Fuck," he groaned, tilting his head back to the sky—like the gods could save him from what he wanted to do to me.
Then he stood, hauling me up with him, his hand firm at my waist. His voice dropped, low and rough enough to burn.
"After this damn trial… darling, I will devour you."
I looked down at the ring, starlight shimmering across the etched metal.
"Gods, it's beautiful. Where did you get it?"
"Umbra," he murmured, kissing my knuckles. "I went to great lengths to get it when I went back.” It was my mother's. Queen Selene gave it to me."
I remembered seeing her at the festival, regal and distant.
“Gods, you were there before you came to find me?” My eyes widened.
"Yeah." He scratched his neck, looking almost sheepish. "I had to be there to ask your father properly."
My jaw dropped.
He'd asked my father. The fucking king.
My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest.
And then—our wristbands flared.
A sharp, piercing chime echoed through the trees. Nineteen left.
"We need to move," he gritted out, his eyes flashing back to silver—full predator mode.
I nodded as the gravity of the trial settled back over us.
He slipped the ring into the inner pocket of my jacket, then pressed a firm kiss to my forehead.
The smallest touch, but gods, it grounded me. He smiled, that rare, unguarded one that hit harder than any kiss.
"You ready?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.
"Yes," I said, baring my teeth in a grin. "Let’s fucking win."
His answering smile was wicked—pure Asher. "That’s my firecracker."
The forest swallowed us whole.
We reached the edge of the protected starting zone minutes later. Crossing the containment ring was like stepping out of one nightmare and into another. The shimmering barrier rippled over us, a cold reminder that while the Woods were wild, they were still a cage.
We were beyond the protected zone now, deep in the hunting grounds controlled by the Academy’s shrinking radius, where the only company was other desperate teammates, the ancient creatures of the forest, and the invisible, unblinking eyes of the Astral Guard.
Asher fell into step beside me, every movement deliberate and controlled.
Muscles coiled beneath his leathers as he scanned the trees, his silver eyes catching every flicker of movement in the brush.
"This place feels wrong," I whispered, the damp air sticking to my lungs.