Zander stepped between Hein and the major, not to protect the man, but to act as the last thin veil between fury and flame.
He turned, slow and deliberate, facing Major Ledor with a look so cold it cut deeper than any blade. “The next time you betray a rider like that…” his voice dropped, dangerous, “you are dead.”
A hush fell over the Ascension Grounds.
Major Ledor straightened, his mouth pressing into a tight line. “I did no such thing,” he snapped. “Her magic surged. I was unable to create a staircase. Check with Prian. I tried to help her.”
Hein growled behind Zander, his wings flaring slightly as the fire in his throat flared again.
Zander didn’t even flinch. He turned just enough to glance up toward the cliffs.
Prian, Ledor’s dragon, stood there like a statue, but the twitch of his tail gave him away. The way he backed from the edge, head lowering in silent admission.
Zander nodded once. “You did,” he said tightly. “Hein wasn’t aware Ashe’s magic could nullify yours.”
The major’s jaw ticked.
“It wasn’t nullified,” he bit out. “It just… couldn’t operate in her space.”
Zander arched a brow. “That’s what I said.”
Major Ledor didn’t respond.
With a simple motion of Zander’s head, Hein gave a snort and leaped back into the skies, his wings cutting the air like vengeance incarnate. Fire shimmered beneath his scales, fading as he climbed.
Zander turned back to me then, his face unreadable.
But the message was clear.
The rules were changing.
Major Ledor stepped forward, his voice measured but tight. “In light of current events,” he began, casting a pointed glance toward the sky where Hein still circled, “I believe it would be prudent to shift our focus to team-building exercises.”
A murmur spread across the grounds.
“We need to determine whether certain forms of magic are compatible or disruptive when working together. Some… combinations may cause unexpected results.”
Beside me, Riven grunted, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. “He wants to know if you can nullify all magic or just his,” she muttered under her breath.
She wasn’t wrong. But I kept my mouth shut, because truthfully? I had no idea what I’d done, let alone how to control it. The magic had surged when Kaelith’s instability rippled through the bond, and the bridge had reacted like it was made of glass and I’d brought a hammer.
The major raised his hands, and with a flick of his fingers, the floating shards of the Crescent Bridge crumbled into glimmering dust. The particles faded into the wind, like the trial had never existed.
Then he turned sharply. “Warborn. I want three of you. Now.”
The squad stiffened as a ripple of tension moved through their ranks.
“Lieutenant Saulter,” he added, voice cold and clipped. “You’re one of them.”
Remy stepped forward without hesitation. The light-green glint of his dragon, Katama, could already be seen circling higher overhead, a streak of power waiting for his command.
Two other Warborn members joined him—Tarell and Miya, both solid fighters with elevated magic. The kind that made good soldiers, not showoffs.
“Call your dragons,” Major Ledor ordered.
Remy’s eyes flicked once in my direction.
Just once.
