Chapter 27
Twenty-Seven
A laire dropped to her knees. Gravel and rough stone bit into her leathers, but she didn’t care. With shaking hands, she gently peeled Kaia’s arms from her face.
Please let this be a simulation .
Kaia’s breath came in ragged gasps, each one shallower and more brittle than the last. Her eyes were closed, lips tinged grey.
Alaire’s hands hovered, trembling as they ghosted across her torn leathers, searching for the source of the wound.
Kaia’s body convulsed, limbs thrashing like a broken marionette.
No. No. No.
“Don’t leave me,” Alaire begged, rolling her onto her side—the only thing she knew to do for seizures. “I can’t lose you too.”
Where was Hadrian?
As the convulsions subsided, Alaire drew back her hands—and froze. Something warm and sticky coated her fingers. Blood. So much blood.
Beneath the torn fabric, a deep gash split the vulnerable skin between Kaia’s ribs. Thin scrapes, like dozens of tiny blade slices, marred her neck and shoulders. These weren’t from the storm. This was deliberate. Someone—or something—had attacked her.
Alaire fumbled for the pin Professor Ross had given her for emergencies. She pricked her finger without hesitation, watching the bright bead of blood saturate the metal.
“Please. Hurry,” she whispered.
The pin stayed cold. The drop of blood dried. Kaia’s skin grew ashen. No shimmer of magic, no winged creatures riding to the rescue. No one came.
Kaia doesn’t have this kind of time.
Anger sizzled in Alaire’s chest, pushing back against the helplessness gnawing her bones. Another trickle of blood slid down Kaia’s leathers.
This was all wrong. Kaia—kind, wild, alive—lay so still.
Her breathing rattled like broken glass, wet and uneven. Blood welled beneath Alaire’s pressed hand while Kaia sagged limp.
“Please, please,” Alaire whispered. The gods had already abandoned her, but Kaia deserved a chance to live.
Focus. Breathe.
Now was not the time for her lungs to betray her. If she couldn’t slow the bleeding, Kaia wouldn’t make it.
Alaire ripped off her leathers, tearing her tunic into the thickest strip she could manage.
“This will hurt,” she murmured.
With trembling hands, she held the wound closed, mouthed sorry , then pressed the fabric tight. Blood seeped through almost instantly, slick against her fingers.
Why isn’t this working?
Tears of frustration blurred her vision.
Solflara shifted nearby, flames flaring as she watched Kaia fade.
Alaire whipped around, chest heaving. “ Solflara , do something !”
“ I wish I could , but I cannot , Alaire .”
The words struck like a slap.
“You’re a phoenix! You have magic! Help her!”
“ My magic doesn’t work that way ,” Solfara replied solemnly.
“ What’s the point of it then ?” Alaire spat. The color was leaching from Kaia’s face.
Despite all her training and new titles, she was hopeless. She needed to do more—anything.
Think. Think. Think .
“Solflara,” Alaire rasped, “your fire. Direct your flames at the wound. Cauterize it.”
“ It might do more harm than good .” Solflara hesitated, searching her haunted face.
Alaire swallowed down the nausea. What other choice did Kaia have? None.
“Just enough to seal it shut,” she snapped. “Now. She’s dying.”
Flames burned in Solflara’s eyes as they met Alaire’s. Whatever she saw there convinced her.
The phoenix extended her wing, releasing a single ember. It kissed the fabric, catching like kindling.
The smell of seared flesh made Alaire’s stomach lurch.
The flame burned hot and fast against the fabric, searing it into a barrier. Its edges curled into blackened ash before the fire guttered out, smoothed by pooling blood.
Kaia didn’t even twitch.
“Stay with me,” Alaire pleaded. The acrid scent of scorched cloth filled her nostrils as she pressed the charred strip harder against the wound.
Please let this work .
Her body quivered as she pulled Kaia closer.
“We need to move! She needs a soulwarden.”
The sound of wings cut through the storm’s fading echoes. Too dark to see who or what approached, Alaire tucked Kaia closer. Solflara lifted her head, flames rippling, a beacon in the night.
“ It’s Hadrian .”
The arcstorm’s angular wings, streaked in stormy blues and greys with lightning-yellow flecks, spread wide as he descended. Talons black as onyx scraped the earth, static prickling Alaire’s skin. His eyes found Kaia’s limp form, and his chest rumbled with a sound that vibrated through her bones.
Solflara trilled at Hadrian, then sent down the bond to Alaire, “ Kaia sent him to find help . She knew she wouldn’t make it far and didn’t want to risk him .”
Alaire felt his gaze bore into her, assessing where she cradled Kaia.
“ Of course she did .” That was Kaia—always thinking of others first.
Hadrian stepped closer, lightning curling faintly around his legs until smoke spiraled from the ground.
“ He wants to carry her out of here ,” Solflara explained.
Alaire shook her head violently. “ No . It’s too dangerous . The wound needs constant pressure . If she flies with me , I can keep it closed until we reach help. ”
Hadrian lowered a wing to brush Kaia’s limp arm. His cry of anguish tore through her chest. She couldn’t imagine his pain, seeing his bonded so close to Umbra’s door.
“I know,” Alaire whispered, “but this is the best way to keep her alive . ”
Hadrian pulled back, wings rustling. Sparks flashed in the dirt before he tucked them against his sides.
“ He agrees ,” Solflara said. “ We need to go . She doesn’t have long .”
“We’re going to get you out of here,” Alaire murmured, forcing steadiness into her voice. “We won’t let you die.”
Blood bubbled at the corner of Kaia’s mouth.
Alaire brushed damp curls from her face as Hadrian extended his wings above them. Carefully, she guided Kaia’s limp body into his talons, her heart hammering.
Fuck, she was so still .
Scrambling onto Solflara, Alaire settled into position as Hadrian lowered Kaia gently into her lap. She adjusted her grip: one arm cradling Kaia, the other keeping pressure on the wound.
The creased map rested awkwardly across Kaia’s hips, edges stained red. She’d been so close. The silver willow and its fluttering flag waited just ahead—yet they felt a world away.
The night around them was unnervingly quiet after the chaos of the storm. Distant thunder rumbled for the next novice completing the crucible. Here, the plains looked untouched.
Solflara coasted on a careful breeze, her movements deliberate and steady. Hadrian swept overhead in protective arcs. Every heartbeat felt like another thread slipping from the tether holding Kaia to life.
Kaia’s skin was clammy against Alaire’s arm. “We’re almost there. You wouldn’t believe what happened to us…” She kept talking, spilling every detail of their journey. Even if Kaia couldn’t answer, she would know she wasn’t alone.
Hadrian dipped lower, his silhouette casting long shadows over the silver willow ahead. The Consortium’s sigil glowed faintly on its massive trunk, the final flag humming with magic sharp enough to set Alaire’s teeth on edge.
None of it mattered anymore. Not the finish line, not the promise of glory.
All that mattered was Kaia.
Alaire held her breath as they touched down on the grassy knoll. Carefully, she laid Kaia within Solflara’s flames, then slid down, scanning the silent clearing.
“Where is everyone?” she murmured.
“ Something about that crest is radiating strong magic ,” Solflara answered.
Alaire approached, brushing her fingers over the sigil. The ground rumbled beneath her boots. Silver leaves shivered loose, catching in her hair. A blinding arch of light spilled from the Consortium’s mark as the willow’s bark swung inward.
She raised her arm against the glare. “ Here we go .” She glanced back to confirm Kaia was safe in Solflara’s embrace.
Solflara held her gaze and gave a firm nod.
A tugging sensation hooked Alaire’s stomach, yanking her forward.
When reality snapped back into focus, her ears rang and the ground still swayed beneath her feet. Alaire stumbled, but Solflara’s beak caught the back of the thin shirt that now skimmed her belly button.
“ What was that ?”
“ A portal ,” Solflara clarified.
Once again, she stood in the sand of the Aeriel Coliseum—but this time, no novices were waiting to take their turn.
In the stands sat her peers, all looking just as disheveled as she was.
The administration and Professor Ross shot to their feet at the sight of Kaia’s limp body draped across Solflara’s back.
They had made it. They’d survived the trial. Barely.
Alaire stepped away from Solflara. “We need a soulwarden now!” she bellowed.
“What happened?” Professor Ross rushed across the coliseum.
“On my way toward the finish line, we spotted Kaia on the ground, bleeding. She was attacked.”
Professor Ross’s gaze swept over her. “That’s a heavy accusation.”
“It’s not one I make lightly. She has several abrasions on her neck and a raw wound along her ribs.
” She rubbed the semicircle of skin between her index and middle fingers.
“We used the pin. I waited and waited, but no one came. Thought you should know.” Alaire eyed him suspiciously.
He’d warned her that her life was in danger if she didn’t win.
Had he orchestrated this? Or had Kaia simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time?
“She’s lucky you got to her when you did.”
Fury curdled in Alaire’s gut. If Professor Ross had been honest from the beginning, maybe this all could’ve been prevented. Her helplessness at Kaia’s condition, everything out of her control, thrashed inside her, begging to break free. But exploding now wouldn’t help Kaia.
She swallowed the rage, forcing a mask of calm.
Turning her back on him, she focused on the pair of soulwardens in their flowing green garments trimmed with silver thread.