CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE #3
"Sloppy? No." His shadows began to stir—alive, hungry, licking at the vines. "Merciful, maybe."
The vines shuddered. Darkness rippled outward like liquid night, slicing through the magical bindings in a single, sharp hiss.
We dropped—I hit the ground in a crouch, fire already flaring in my palms.
The Fire wielder lunged; I met him head-on. The Earth wielder threw a wave of stone spikes, but Asher was already moving—blade flashing, shadow splitting the air like smoke and steel entwined.
The Fire wielder swung wide, flame roaring toward me.
I ducked, rolled, came up with a spin, and slammed my elbow into his jaw. Bone cracked. He reeled back, and I drove a burst of fire into his chest that sent him sprawling.
He staggered upright, rage twisting his face, and hurled another wave of flame toward me. I caught it mid-air, twisting my own magic to meet it—fire against fire, heat crashing in a thunderclap of sparks.
“Asher has the Earth wielder pinned.” Aether rumbled through the bond.
"Ava Pyreson!" the Fire wielder spat, sweat running down his face as he struggled to stay upright.
"In the flesh," I purred, stepping through the haze of smoke and falling ash.
His grin turned feral, his eyes raking over me in a way that made my skin crawl. “You're even more fuckable up close.”
I froze, the flames in my hands flickering. "What?"
"You heard me," he said, his teeth flashing in the dim light. "You’re—fuckable."
Rage flared, sharp and instant.
"Watch your mouth," I snarled, fire licking up my arms until they were encased in a crimson glow.
He laughed—a low, ugly sound—and that was all it took.
In a blur, Asher was there.
Shadows surged like a localized storm, and the Fire wielder hit the ground hard with Asher’s arm locked around his throat in a crushing grip. The Earth wielder was already down, unconscious and pinned by Zya's weight beside him.
"Would you like to repeat that?" Asher growled, his face mere inches from the male’s.
His eyes were no longer silver; they were voids.
The Fire wielder choked, his hands scrabbling uselessly at Asher's iron forearm.
"Your teammate is down," Asher hissed, his voice a promise of death. "It’s over."
He released him with a violent shove, letting the male drop into the dirt, gasping for air.
"Run."
The wielder didn’t wait—he scrambled toward his fallen partner, hauling him up and vanishing into the dense trees.
Our bands flared again, the chime echoing through the Veylaith Woods. Fifteen left.
We walked for hours, my legs screaming and the forest air turning biting as night bled into the trees.
"Shelter," Asher murmured, his stamina infuriatingly intact.
“We found a cave,” Zya’s voice slid through the bond.
“Finally,” I panted.
Asher slowed, silver eyes glinting. “You okay, firecracker? Or is my stamina too much for you?”
I arched a brow. "Just don't have the same energy you males do."
He leaned in, his voice a low rumble against my ear.
"You seem to have plenty of energy when you’re riding me, darling."
I nearly tripped. "Asher—"
He just smirked, all smug shadow and sin. "Just stating facts."
The cave was a small stone hollow, smelling of old ash, but it felt like sanctuary. Aether and Zya took the entrance, their eyes glowing like sentinels.
I didn't wait for Asher to start a fire. I snapped my fingers, and a concentrated orb of crimson-orange flame ignited in the center of the floor, casting long, dancing shadows against the jagged walls.
"Better?" I murmured, pulling him down with me.
The heat from the fire was nothing compared to the look in his eyes. I turned in his arms, my hands sliding up his leather-clad chest to the heat of his neck.
The exhaustion was there, but the hunger was a physical weight. I leaned in, my lips brushing the shell of his ear.
"My husband-to-be," I whispered, the words vibrating against his skin.
The effect was instantaneous.
Asher came undone. A low, guttural growl ripped from his throat, and he lunged, pinning me flat against the mossy floor.
His hands were frantic, tearing at the buckles of my leathers, his mouth crashing into mine with a starved, desperate intensity.
He didn't play.
He didn't wait.
He stripped the gear from my hips and his own, his skin burning hot against mine.
When he entered me, it was a hard, raw claim that sent a shockwave through the bond, making my toes curl into the moss.
I arched my back, my fingers digging into the heavy muscles of his shoulders as he drove into me with a rhythmic, punishing force.
"Ava," he gasped, his forehead pressed to mine, his eyes entirely black.
Every thrust was a silent vow, the firelight reflecting off the sweat on his back as he moved with a feral, unyielding power.
The bond roared between us until the world shattered into white heat and jagged shadows.
Afterward, as the fire I created settled into low, pulsing embers, he pulled me against his chest, his heartbeat a steady thud against my back.
“I love you, Ava,” he whispered through the bond, his breath warm against my neck. Safe in his arms, I finally let the darkness take me.
···
Light filtered through the cracks in the cave wall—soft, golden, and far too gentle for what we’d just survived.
I blinked awake, still nestled against Asher’s chest, his arm heavy around my waist, his breathing slow and even.
For a moment, it was peaceful—just the warmth of him, the steady rhythm of his heart, and the faint crackle of the embers I’d ignited the night before.
"Wake up, love," I murmured, brushing a kiss against his cheek.
He stirred, lashes fluttering before he cracked one eye open, then the other. A lazy grin spread across his face.
"Good morning, beautiful," he drawled, his voice thick with sleep and those infuriating dimples flashing.
Before I could answer, our wristbands flared bright gold.
The numbers shimmered. Ten competitors left.
The sound followed—a deep, metallic shriek as the radius began to close in, echoing faintly through the canyon walls.
Asher sighed, rolling his shoulders and standing, his hand finding mine. "Looks like playtime’s over," he muttered, amusement tugging at his lips.
I smirked, grabbing my gear. "Then let’s give them something to fear."
He chuckled lowly, pulling me close just long enough for his breath to graze my ear. "Let’s go, princess."
And with that, Day 2 began.
We walked for what felt like hours. The sun was sinking low, bleeding through the trees in streaks of amber and gold. We hadn’t come across another team since morning, but our bands had flared once.
Maddy and Zaria were out. Sera and Darcy, and Ezra and Ember were still somewhere within the radius, along with whoever else had survived this long.
And we still had a long fucking way to go.
Our bodies ached. The air was thick with heat and the kind of silence that pressed too close.
The circle kept tightening, forcing us deeper into the Woods. I wasn’t even sure how far we’d gone anymore.
The trees opened into a clearing bathed in copper light.
The sky burned copper, the shadows long and soft.
We stopped by a stream cutting through the moss, its surface shimmering gold.
"Gods, it’s hot," I muttered, pulling off my jacket and tying it at my waist. I undid my braid, scraped my hair into a high ponytail, and wiped the sweat from my brow.
Asher crouched by the water, filling our canteen.
Then came the crack.
My pulse jumped. Asher’s head snapped up. He met my eyes and pressed a finger to his lips before standing, silent and alert.
Aether and Zya slipped into the tall grass, little more than shadows at the edge of my vision.
Probably another team. But the forest was too still.
I crept closer to the trees.
Asher angled right, scanning the dark.
A low growl rolled from somewhere ahead—deep, guttural, wrong.
“What the fuck,” I whispered.
A hand shot from the shadows and clamped onto my arm.
“Get off me!” I jerked back hard, dragging it into the fading light.
Yellow eyes stared back, veins black and crawling beneath pale skin.
Oh. My. Gods. It couldn’t be. This was the last thing I thought I’d see on this godsdamn continent.
“Forsaken,” I breathed.
It lunged and sank its teeth into my arm.
Pain lit up my nerves. I screamed.
“Flame one!” Aether’s voice tore through the bond.
Asher was there in a blink.
One heartbeat he was at the stream, the next he was on the creature, wrenching it off me with a snarl that didn’t sound like him.
The Forsaken thrashed and hissed. He slammed it into a tree, shadows coiling around him like smoke.
Then he bit it.
I froze. The sound was awful—flesh and bone and darkness twisting together.
The Forsaken convulsed once, then went limp.
Asher stayed crouched over the body, his shoulders heaving, his hands slick with black blood. The last light of sunset poured over him, staining everything red.
I stumbled back, clutching my arm, my heart hammering.
He turned.
His eyes were glowing red, not silver. Fangs caught the dying light. Blood traced down his chin.
The world went silent.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. My brain couldn’t catch up with what I was seeing.
“No… no.” The word tore out of me. I shook my head hard, clutching my wrist, blood still slick between my fingers.
His eyes flickered, red fading slowly back to silver.
“Ava,” he said, stepping toward me.
I stumbled back.