They know each other.
And they are not friends or strangers.
Something in between.
Professor River enters a beat later and shuts the door with a flick of his fingers.
“Change of plans,” he says, not even pretending this is a normal lesson. “We’ve had…security concerns. Miss Blake, Mr. Tsukino—you’re assigned to private instruction today.”
There’s a ripple of surprise. A few jealous stares.
“Kael will be assisting.”
More ripples.
Raiden looks like he just swallowed something jagged. “Since when do demons assist with training?”
Kael smiles without humor. “Since your little bond nearly got gutted last night.”
That shuts the room up fast. I freeze. My stomach twists. I didn’t think he’d tell anyone.
Which is ridiculous since he has shown me in the past that he will be loyal to the school.
But Professor River just nods. “Training Room Seven. Wards are already active. I suggest you don’t waste time.”
Training Room Seven is colder than the others. Not just in temperature, but in vibe. The stone walls hum with layered enchantments, the floor etched in sigils that glow faintly as we step inside.
Raiden brushes past me first, jaw clenched.
Kael strolls in last, calm as you please. No rush. No nerves. Just the quiet confidence of someone who knows every shadow in the room would listen if he told them to kneel.
The door seals behind us with a low thrum of magic.
“Remove your shoes,” Kael says, already shrugging off his jacket, and peeling off his gloves. “You’ll want bare feet for grounding.”
“I can handle her training,” Raiden cuts in.
Kael doesn’t even glance his way. “Clearly not. If the rumor mill from yesterday is anything to go by, you shouldn’t even be veilbound to her. You’re not strong enough.”
Raiden bristles. “You think because you showed up once, you suddenly know what she needs?”
“I think because someone tried to slit her throat and she didn’t defend herself, it’s time someone trained her like it mattered.”
My breath catches.
They’re both ignoring me now, posturing around me like I’m a chess piece instead of a person.
“I didn’t know how,” I snap. “I tried.”
That pulls both of their gazes.
Kael’s expression softens—just barely. “Which is why you’re here.”
Raiden looks at me, and something flickers behind his eyes. Guilt, maybe. Frustration.
Kael steps into the center of the room. “We’re going to start simple. Pressure responses. Defensive flow. Then we’ll move to reactive strikes.”
He turns to me. “You’ve felt the bond flare, yeah?”
