My core reserves are knotted up tight, still can't access them, so I’ve let my Threads build as much as I can this week, just in case I need them, to fight against Ryven, or Elijah. But Beth? I don’t have enough for Beth.
I have a few days worth at best, and they’re rattled as hell, unpredictable from the last weeks’ emotions that nearly cracked me. And today,now, they’re a full-blown fucking mess. Pressure with no direction. Power with no leash.
The crowd’s gone quiet. So quiet I can hear a cough from the back row, the silence before the storm.
“Why?” I breathe as my pulse starts to rise in a fast uneven rhythm. “I don’t understand….”
Then—
The bell cracks.
Beth moves first. Fingers flick. Threads catch the room like a net—and the candles along the wall gutter hard, flames pulling towards her. Then she drops her hands, fast, and the fire hurls towards me a second later
I throw mine up to block—pulling forward a layer of air that holds for half a second before splintering. I stagger under the pressure, barely dodging the flame that singes inches from my shoulder.
My pulse jumps, fast and thin. Fire—she’sfuckingusing fire now? Since when?
It lands hot, fast, but not full force. She’s holding back, measuring me. Not fighting. Playing.
The crowd leans forward, chairs creak, someone gasps.
“You’re so slow.” Beth calls, circling me. Her voice is casual, like she’s commenting on the weather. “You still don’t get it.”
I grit my teeth and dig deep, pulling magic from the pit of my gut, dragging it like a weight through mud. Threads snap to my hands, gathering the air around me, messy and unstable. Still, I grit my teeth and hurl it towards her with everything I have.
Beth ducks before it’s even left my fingers. Effortless. Predictable, then she moves, and another flare whips toward me, sharp and blinding.
I throw myself back, lungs seizing as I drag up another shield again, hopeless, messy. A jagged wall of water vapour slams into place. Beth keeps driving forward, pressure slamming into me like a wave, and my vision flickers—just for a second—as I try and hold on. Bracing my feet, locking my arms. Force the shield to stay up even as my muscles scream.
But it’s not enough. The shield’s already breaking. Chest rising too fast, arms tingling, and my Threads start to slip again. They hum against my skin, crackling with too much power and no direction.
I was ready, I was ready for Ryven, for Elijah. But I wasn't ready for this, forher. I can’t think—can’t breathe past the pressure building in my throat, the beating in my chest, but I need to calm down.Focus. Get the magic under control before it turns on me.
I try to pull them back, force them into line, but my Threads surge sideways, sparking against my ribs like they’re ready to tear out of me.
And then Beth steps in. Clean, Surgical. Her elbow hooks around mine in a lockItaught her.
I feel the pop before I hear it.
A collective exhale from the audience, abrupt and involuntary, like the whole room flinched with me.
“You taught me that one,” she whispers against my ear, warm.
Pain streaks down my arm, blinding. My legs buckle, breath tearing through clenched teeth. But I don’t drop. I twist, shoulder grinding, spine screaming, and wrench myself out of the hold.
Beth staggers back a step.
I meet her eyes. “I didn’t show youthatone.”
Magic builds at my fingers as I lunge to draw again, but she’s already moving. She sees it coming, of course she does; she fucking trained me. A sharp flick of her fingers and power slams toward me—fast, brutal. It hits like a brutal wave. My feet leave the ground and then I’m down, slammed on to my back, air punched from my lungs as I skid across the floor. The ceiling spins. My ears ring.
Gasps scatter through the crowd, but no one dares speak. The sounds feel distant now. Blurred.
I suck for breath and get nothing, chest rising too fast, too shallow now. Just heat, fear. The weight of every mistake I’ve made since I came back here.
Across the mat, Beth stands still. Perfectly still. Arms at her sides. Power humming soft and steady around her fingers.
Oh god.
