Theron said nothing. But his hand dropped from his sword hilt.
And he took a single step back.
ChapterForty-Two
Theron spun on his heel, his regal cloak snapping behind him like a final insult. The moment he disappeared into the castle, I stepped closer to Zander, brushing my fingers gently against his wrist.
His skin was hot—searing, and black tendrils of Dark Fire curled lazily over the backs of his hands and along his forearms like living smoke. His eyes, twin voids of night, locked on where Theron had stood only moments before.
“Zander,” I whispered.
His gaze dropped to me, and something shifted. The storm behind his eyes began to ease, Dark Fire retreating into his skin like it had never been there. He exhaled, long and slow, like he’d been holding his breath since the confrontation began.
“Thanks,” he murmured, the tension bleeding from his shoulders.
Around us, Hein was still growling, the sound low and furious like distant thunder. My eyes swept the field, and I noticed the palace guards had all but disappeared, having retreated to the outer edge of the Ascension Grounds. Most of them looked anywhere but at the still-glowing piles of ash, brooms and buckets untouched in their hands.
Zander turned to Hein and nodded once.
With a beat of those massive wings, the silver dragon launched into the air, cutting a spiral into the sky as he rose to join Kaelith. The two dragons circled each other above, silent but ever-watchful.
Zander turned back to the major, his tone dry. “So, what did you have planned before all this unpleasantness?”
Major Ledor looked rattled, like he’d aged a few years in the last hour. His lips pressed into a thin line before he cleared his throat. “A new trial,” he admitted. “We were going to begin today.”
Zander arched a brow. “Let’s hope it’s not as dramatic as the last one.”
The major didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. His eyes lifted to the sky, and I got the distinct feeling that whatever was coming next… would be worse.
The major raised one hand and whistled—short and commanding. The sound pierced the thick air, cutting through the lingering tension like a blade. The remaining guards finally moved from the edges of the Ascension Grounds, stepping forward in formation. They weren’t here to clean.
They were here for us.
“This trial,” Major Ledor called, his voice projecting to every corner of the grounds, “will focus on your ability to defend against multiple enemies in unpredictable combat scenarios.”
Zander’s arms crossed as his eyes narrowed. “Unpredictable?”
The major smirked, not answering directly. “You will face mock attacks from our most elite palace guards. Blunted weapons. No killing. But I expect you to defend yourselves without your dragons.”
Kaelith sent a wave of irritation through the bond.Mock battles? They wouldn’t survive a real one.
Stay where you are,I warned her silently.This is our fight.
The guards moved into position with military precision, splitting into smaller strike teams and surrounding our squads. I could already see Crownwatch Squad’s apprehension across the field, and Jax cracking his knuckles with barely restrained eagerness. Ferrula spun one of her short blades with a grin like she’d just been handed a challenge worthy of her boredom.
“Begin,” the major barked.
They came fast.
A group of three rushed me from the left. I dropped low, wind rising around me in a swirling vortex. My hand sliced upward, and the vortex shot forward, knocking two of them off their feet before they reached me. The third lunged, only to be yanked backward by a tendril of power—Jax’s doing.
Tae’s laugh rang out from the other side of the field. “Try harder!” he yelled, just before one of the guards dropped to his knees, clutching his head. Tae’s power of influence shimmered through the air like heat waves.
Naia pulsed with kinetic energy, her fingertips glowing as she absorbed the force of an incoming strike. She spun and released it, sending the soldier flying with amplified force. Cordelle had his palms flat against the ground, vines and thorned tendrils erupting from the dirt to trip and bind guards who moved too fast.
Zander was a storm on his own. Dark Fire coiled from his arms, his movements sleek and efficient. He didn’t attack to hurt—just to control. Disarming. Disabling. Dominating.
Remy moved like a ghost, blurring from one side of the field to the other. His blades were unsheathed, but never cut deeper than they had to. His magic left streaks of fog and shadow in his wake, unsettling the guards who couldn’t predict where he’d strike next.
