Chapter 79

Chapter 79: Chapter 79

Nyra woke to the warmth of sunlight on her face and the steady rhythm of a heartbeat beneath her ear.

For a long, disoriented moment, she didn’t know where she was. The ceiling above her was not the familiar stone of the Undercroft dorm. The sheets beneath her were silk, not rough cotton. And the warmth surrounding her was not a thin blanket but a pair of strong arms wrapped securely around her waist.

Then she felt Soren’s lips press against her forehead, and she remembered everything.

"Good morning," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep.

"Morning." She tilted her head up to look at him. His dark hair was tousled, his eyes still heavy-lidded, his bare chest rising and falling beneath her cheek. He looked younger like this—softer, less guarded. "How long have you been awake?"

"Not long. I was watching you sleep."

"That’s not creepy at all."

"I prefer ’attentive.’"

"You would." She smiled and pressed a kiss to his jaw. "What time is it?"

"Early. The sun’s barely up. You have time before anyone notices you’re not in your dorm."

The reminder of reality was like cold water. Nyra sat up, the silk sheets pooling around her waist, and began scanning the room for her clothes. "I need to get back before Finn wakes up. He’ll ask questions. He always asks questions."

"He cares about you."

"I know. That’s the problem." She found her trousers draped over the chair near the window and began pulling them on. "He’ll take one look at me and know something happened. He has this expression—this insufferable grin—"

"The one he does when he’s about to tease you mercilessly?"

"Yes. That one."

Soren sat up, the sheets falling away from his chest. "I know that expression well. Ragnar does the same thing."

"Ragnar grinned at you?"

"Ragnar has been grinning at me since the day you arrived at this academy. He knew before I did." Soren paused. "Well. He knew before I admitted it."

Nyra pulled her nightshirt over her head and began the familiar work of binding her chest. Soren watched her in silence, and when she glanced at him, there was something in his eyes—tenderness, maybe, or regret.

"I’m sorry," he said quietly. "For making you hide. For making you bind yourself and pretend to be someone you’re not. You shouldn’t have to do this."

"I’ve been doing it my whole life. A few more weeks won’t kill me." She finished the binding and pulled on her tunic. "Besides, it’s not just for you. It’s for me. For my pack. For Thorne’s memory. When I reveal myself, it will be on my terms. Not Selene’s. Not your father’s. Mine."

"And I’ll be there when you do. Whatever happens."

She crossed to the bed and leaned down to kiss him—soft and warm, a promise for the day ahead. "I know. Now get dressed. You have a Sword Sovereign reputation to maintain."

"I don’t care about my reputation."

"Liar."

"Terrible liar," he agreed.

She slipped out of his suite a few minutes later, her footsteps silent on the cold stone. The corridors were still mostly empty, the early morning light just beginning to filter through the high windows. She made it back to the Undercroft dorm without encountering anyone and eased the door open with agonizing slowness.

Finn was sitting on his bunk, wide awake and grinning.

"Well, well, well," he said. "Look who’s sneaking back in at dawn. Wearing the same clothes as last night. With a very interesting glow about him."

"Finn—"

"I’m not judging. I’m just observing. Did you have a good night? You look like you had a good night. You have that look. The look of someone who—"

"Finn." Marek’s voice cut through the teasing, quiet but firm. "Leave him alone."

"I’m just asking questions!"

"You’re prying."

"It’s what I do."

Jasper looked up from his book—he was always reading, even at dawn—and fixed Nyra with his sharp eyes. "You seem better than yesterday. Calmer. More centered."

"I am."

"Good. Then whatever happened, it was the right thing."

Nyra smiled at him. "It was."

Finn opened his mouth to say something else, but Marek threw a pillow at his face. "Let him breathe."

"I’m breathing! I’m just also curious!"

"Be curious quietly."

"I don’t know how to do that."

"Then learn."

Nyra laughed—a real laugh, bright and warm—and for the first time in days, the Undercroft dorm felt like home again.

The joint training session that morning was the largest yet.

Students from both academies filled the main training hall, their voices a low roar of anticipation. The Silvermoon girls stood in their pristine white uniforms on one side of the hall. The Shadowmoon students clustered on the other. The tension from the cafeteria brawl still lingered in the air like smoke, but it was tempered now by the shared exhaustion of training and the looming pressure of the showcase.

Soren stood at the front of the hall with the other instructors, his arms crossed, his expression the cold mask of the Sword Sovereign. But when his eyes found Nyra across the room, something softened in them—just for a moment, just for her.

She smiled at him. He didn’t smile back, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

Finn noticed. Of course he noticed.

"Did you see that?" he whispered to Marek. "The Sword Sovereign almost smiled. At Thorne. That’s practically a declaration of love."

"Focus on your training," Marek said.

"I am focused. I’m just also observant."

"You’re going to get hit if you don’t pay attention."

"I always get hit. It’s part of my charm."

Across the hall, Ragnar sidled up to Soren during a break in the drills. "You’re in a good mood this morning," he observed. "Less brooding than usual. Almost... pleasant."

"I’m never pleasant."

"You’re right. That was an exaggeration. But you’re less brooding." Ragnar’s scarred face split into a grin. "Did something happen last night? Something involving a certain silver-haired prince?"

"None of your business."

"That’s a yes."

"It’s not a yes. It’s a ’stay out of my personal life.’"

"Which is definitely a yes." Ragnar clapped him on the shoulder. "Good for you. It’s about time you two figured things out."

"We didn’t ’figure things out.’ We... talked."

"Talked. Right. Is that what we’re calling it now?"

"Ragnar."

"I’m just saying. You look less like someone killed your puppy. It’s an improvement."

Soren shook his head, but the corner of his mouth twitched again. "Focus on the training."

"Fine, fine. But I’m happy for you, brother. Truly."

Corvin was not in the training hall.

He had been up since dawn in his private laboratory, surrounded by ancient texts and bubbling vials and the faint, acrid smell of experimental potions. The research on the Moonblood lineage had consumed him for weeks, but since the Mistwood—since Nyra’s seal had broken and her power had awakened—he had become almost obsessive.

Lucian found him there around midday, his nose buried in a crumbling manuscript.

"You missed training," Lucian said, leaning against the doorframe. "Again."

"I was researching."

"You’re always researching. What are you looking for this time?"

Corvin didn’t look up. "Answers. About the bond. About what Nyra is becoming. About what it means for all of us."

"And have you found any?"

"Some." Corvin set the manuscript down and rubbed his tired eyes. "The Dual Bond is more complex than I thought. It’s not just about balance. It’s about amplification. The two mates don’t just stabilize the vessel’s power, they amplify it. Make it stronger. If Nyra fully awakens if she embraces the full extent of the Moonblood magic she could be the most powerful being in the Seven Packs."

Lucian’s eyes widened. "More powerful than the King?"

"Potentially." Corvin’s voice was flat. "Which is why we need to be careful. If the King finds out what she is—if he realizes she’s a threat to his power—he won’t just try to separate her from Soren. He’ll try to eliminate her entirely."

"Then we make sure he doesn’t find out."

"That’s the plan. But plans have a way of falling apart." Corvin stood and began organizing his vials. "How was training?"

"Same as always. Soren and Thorne are clearly back together. They were making eyes at each other across the hall. It was almost sweet."

Corvin’s hands paused for just a moment over a vial of moonflower extract. Then he resumed his work. "Good. She deserves to be happy."

"And you?"

"I’m fine."

"Corvin—"

"I said I’m fine." His voice was cool but not harsh. "I knew what I was getting into when I told her about the bond. I knew she loved Soren. I knew that wouldn’t change overnight. And it hasn’t." He turned to face Lucian. "But I meant what I told her. I’m not going anywhere. Whatever she needs—whatever role I play in her life—I’ll be there."

Lucian studied his friend for a long moment. "You really love her, don’t you?"

"I don’t know what I feel. But it’s something. Something I’ve never felt before."

"That’s love, you idiot."

"Then yes. I suppose I do." Corvin almost smiled. "Now help me with these vials. The showcase is a week away, and I need to have protective potions ready for all of us."