Chapter 10 Kieran
KIERAN
A few hours later, the question hadn’t left my mind.
When would they come?
We hadn’t come to any solid conclusion in the meeting, but our path was clear: give me space to face the prophecy and stay on the defensive for whatever chaos the upper triads would unleash for defying their so-called divine order.
Meanwhile we’d slowly begin to figure out how all of our separate factions could co-exist together. Trust would take a long time to build.
When Noah suggested training today, I agreed without hesitation, already knowing where we’d go. It was the perfect way to calm my mind and focus on what I could control.
The wind carried the scent of sun-warmed stone as we descended toward the Placement Hall—the same building where I’d failed test after test. Where so many had made me feel less than.
It looked smaller now, less like a threat.
The last time I’d flown down here, the world had felt cold and judgmental, ready to crush me beneath the weight of disappointment. My father had been waiting at the steps, eager to count every flaw, every breath and heartbeat measured and found lacking.
Sunlight poured through the marble archways, catching on the walls until they gleamed. The bronze doors still loomed, but I no longer feared what waited beyond them.
“Hasn’t been long since we were last here, Beauty,” Ronan rumbled as he landed beside me. “But it feels like a century.”
I huffed out a small laugh. “Yeah,” I sighed. “Long enough for everything to change.”
Niz landed a short distance away, the impact sending dust curling through the air.
A bundle of clothes hung from his jaws, clenched carefully between his teeth.
By the time he jogged back toward us, the shimmer of his shift had already faded—wings gone, scales replaced by skin.
He straightened and tugged the clothes on.
He smirked as he fastened the button on his pants. “Except this time I’m not stuck in my tiny wyvern form.”
A faint smile tugged at my mouth. “This is where I met you and you winked at me. Don’t think I forgot that moment.”
Niz’s grin turned wicked as he bounced his eyebrows up and down. “I couldn’t help myself from flirting with you even then, little flame.”
My heart squeezed at the easy affection in his voice, light and sincere all at once.
Ronan chuckled. “I think this is also when you implied I had a small dick.”
The memory rushed over me—the last placement test I’d ever taken, his devastatingly handsome grin and the way he’d made me smile when everything had felt too heavy. I laughed, caught off guard. “I suppose I should double-check that—”
A startled sound escaped me as Ronan tugged me close, stealing a deep, unhurried kiss.
The taste of him lingered even as he broke the kiss, quickly reminding me of the way his muscular body felt against mine, the tightness of his grip on my hips, the way he’d filled every part of me until breathing had felt impossible. I knew exactly how big Ronan was.
His breath brushed my ear, voice dropping to a low growl. “Anytime you want. Literally any time, Beauty.”
Something warm and unguarded loosened in my chest, the heated moment still humming between us, filled with a lightness I craved. For all the shadows we carried, moments like this reminded me there could still be a future worth fighting for.
“Let’s get started!” Noah called from the doorway.
It was strange seeing him anywhere other than his cottage in the woods. Still, it was a welcome change, replacing memories of failure with something steadier, almost familiar.
Steele, Gabe, and Bastian were already striding through the entrance, and Niz fell into step beside me and Ronan. His arm looped easily around my waist, and he pressed a silent kiss to the top of my head.
Inside, the space rose three stories high beneath a domed ceiling, white marble walls veined with gold catching the sunlight that streamed through tall windows.
Golden candles lined the upper ledges, their steady glow blending with the light pouring through the windows.
At the back of the hall, couches and lounge chairs framed a sweeping staircase that curved toward the secondary wing of the building.
We moved toward it, the faint echo of our footsteps carrying through the quiet.
“Everyone spread out,” Noah instructed, his voice carrying through the vast room. “We train in pairings today, but the goal is the same—prepare every power we have before either the stars fall or the upper triads makes their move.”
The triad.
The reminder made my chest tighten with anxiety. I wouldn’t discount Astor’s warning—we absolutely had a war looming in our future, but for now, all I could control was my role in the prophecy. My focus needed to remain there.
Beyond the staircase, the hall opened into the training yard.
It was a vast expanse crowned by a glass ceiling that stretched from wall to wall.
Sunlight fractured through its panes, scattering gold across the floors and the etched circles that marked each sparring ring.
The air carried the faint tang of metal, and heavy testing equipment lined the edges of the field, silent and waiting.
Each surface hummed with power that remembered every test ever held here.
Ronan and Niz crossed to the far west side of the room, where I watched as Noah ordered them to conjure shadow beasts and test how long they could hold against Niz in his human form first and then against his wyvern form.
Then Noah turned to Gabe and Bastian, pairing them together.
“Gabe, no shapeshifting unless you feel up to it. I know it still causes immense pain. Instead, help Bastian channel his magic into creating weapons that you decide on, and test how they hold up against your fighting. Think of unusual weapons to expand his inventory in case we need something out of the ordinary.”
Noah shifted his attention to Steele and me.
“And you two,” he said as his eyes wrinkled slightly at the corners and his lips pursed momentarily, “need to figure out what working together actually means for your affinities.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Steele’s brow furrowed, and though his hand brushed lightly across my lower back, he didn’t speak.
We both watched as Noah pulled a thick, weathered book from the satchel slung across his shoulder.
When he flipped it open, the pages were crowded with notes and half-faded symbols, the ink smudged with age.
“As we’ve discussed,” Noah began as his eyes drifted across the pages, “Rune Makers and Star Keepers were meant to function as one. The Maker crafts a rune that connects to the Keeper’s personal star.
That rune becomes a bridge—something that can be etched onto a weapon, armor, even the skin—to channel celestial power without burning through the Keeper. ”
He nodded to himself once before his expression tightened.
“Most of the records were destroyed, but what remains—like the tome you and Gabe stole from the archives before falling—suggests the rune stabilizes the Keeper’s magic.
It draws the power from their star and filters it through the Maker’s rune.
Without that tether, the Keeper is unable to control the vast energy. ”
Steele’s gaze met mine. “And what if a Star Keeper has more than one star?”
“Or thousands,” I murmured quietly. “Hundreds of thousands, actually.”
Noah grimaced. “Exactly the problem at hand. A Rune Maker can only sustain so many runes at a time before the connection fractures, since each one draws directly from their own power. Creating one for every star you need to connect to would kill Steele before he finished—if it didn’t destroy you first.”
“Encouraging,” Steele muttered, making me huff out a laugh.
My head shook at the insurmountable odds stacking against us. Nothing could ever be simple or easy.
I exhaled, glancing toward the glass overhead as I did. “Then before we do anything else, let me try reaching them. If I can find the stronger stars, maybe Steele can anchor to those first in a test.”
Noah hesitated, frowning. “It’s possible,” he said after a moment before adding, “and it would give us somewhere to start.”
I closed my eyes and reached inward. “I’m going to tether.”
The pull came instantly—a chain unfurling from somewhere deep behind my ribs, links of light threading upward through the dark. It climbed higher and higher, until the weight of my body felt impossibly far away.
Above, the world opened into a vast, silent expanse. Thousands of stars stretched in every direction, so bright and close it felt like I could reach out and touch them. The power behind the shimmering light filled me with a fierce, trembling awe.
But not all of them burned the same. Some flickered weakly, their glow thinning at the edges. Others hung dim, barely visible, as if they were fading into eternity itself.
And unlike the times I’d traveled to the stars before—back when I hadn’t yet carried the Star Keepers’ power—I couldn’t help but notice that even the brightest stars had no runes now, no sigils, no markings.
Only raw starlight scattered across the dark, beautiful expanse.
The sight hollowed the air from my lungs.
My eyes snapped open, my stomach dropping as the truth hit me. “The stars are there—but the runes are gone.”
Steele's shoulders tightened with tension, his frown deepening. “Gone how?”
“They’re not around the stars anymore,” I said quietly, looking between the two of them. “If I had to guess, they’re inside me. When the Star Keepers gave me their power, the runes didn’t disappear, they became part of me.”
The silence that followed was thick, alive with the weight of what that meant.
Noah rubbed the back of his neck, the book in his hand shifting as he seemed lost in thought for a few moments before nodding to himself. “Then we’ll have to make something new.”