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Silence settles around us, thick and heavy.

Ash lets out a dramatic sigh, breaking it first. “Well, that was unnecessarily dramatic.” He glances at me, his smirk half-hearted. “I will wager five coins that while he is off playing evil prince, we will be the ones cleaning up the mess.”

I ignore him, my gaze still fixed on the empty space where Oberon stood just seconds before. The warmth of his presence is already fading, replaced by the cold bite of the mountain air.

Zander shifts beside me. “We should get moving.” His voice is all business, but his sharp gaze flicks to me, assessing.

I nod, forcing my thoughts back to the task ahead. Whatever Oberon has gone to do, whatever danger he is stepping into, I can’t let it distract me. We still have a mission to complete. I square my shoulders and start walking. “Let’s go.”

Ash and Zander fall into step beside me, their silent presence steadying, even as a part of me remains tangled in the last words Oberon spoke, Trust in me.

Chapter twenty-seven

Ruthless

Zander is unusually ruthless during our next lesson. He isn’t holding anything back, and I can’t help but wonder if he is upset about Oberon’s absence. Or was he holding back because of him? Whatever the reason, I am getting my ass handed to me, barely able to keep up, despite the countless sparring sessions we have shared. Zander is a force of nature, stealth, speed, and raw determination run deep in his every move, his body honed into a weapon, every curve and edge a testament to his years of training.

My muscles scream for relief as he closes the distance, bringing his fist down with a strike that I can hardly deflect. I raise my hands in mock surrender, knowing I can’t take another blow.

Zander halts, his swift attack coming to a sudden stop. “What is it?” His tone is flat, unamused.

“I can’t keep up,” I admit, my voice barely above a whisper.

He studies me for a moment, arms crossed, his gaze unwavering as he takes in my exhaustion. “I have to push you,” he replies, his voice lacking any hint of sympathy.

“I know, but this is too far,” I protest, my breath ragged as I steady myself.

For a brief moment, his cold demeanor softens, as if something in me has reached him. His eyes flicker, and I see the glint of something buried beneath his hard exterior, a shadow of pain.

He takes a step back, his posture shifting as he seems to wrestle with the weight of unspoken thoughts. “You think I don’t know what it feels like?” Zander’s voice drops low, quieter now, but still edged with that same intensity. “When I was younger, I couldn’t protect the one person I cared about. My sister . . .” His voice cracks ever so slightly, but he quickly recovers. “She was taken and hurt. Worse than hurt.”

I can hear the rawness in his words, the hurt he has buried for so long. His face is taut with the memory, the pain that still grips him all these years later.

“I swore I would never be weak again,” he continues, his gaze hardening once more, but I see the flicker of something deeper. “I couldn’t save her, and it nearly destroyed me. That’s why I train like I do, why I push you like this. I wish I had someone who would have pushed me. Someone who would’ve been there, telling me it wasn’t enough. I didn’t have that . . . but now I do. And you do too.”

Zander’s voice grows more intense, the weight of his words sinking in. “I can’t protect everyone, but if you’re ever in a position where you’re alone, without anyone to rely on . . . then it’s my job to make sure you never feel the way I did. To make sure you don’t fail, not like I did.”

The last sentence hangs in the air between us, thick with the weight of his promise. I can see the quiet resolve in his eyes, and I realize that, for all his toughness, there is a vulnerability in him that runs deeper than any weapon. It is the part of him that will never let anyone he cares about fall, even if it means pushing them to the edge of their endurance.

I swallow, not knowing how to respond. Thank the gods for Ash, who has a talent for appearing out of nowhere. He must have sensed the tension between us and stepped in, like always.

“Come on, Zander, you’re killing the poor girl,” he teases with that familiar smirk. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” His green eyes gleaming, daring Zander to take the bait.

Zander lets out a dark chuckle, clearly amused by Ash’s challenge. “You think you can take me, Ash?” he asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm and amusement.

Ash’s grin widens. “For you, Zander, I won’t even use my magic,” his voice light, but the challenge in his tone unmistakable.

Zander’s smile curls into something sharper, more dangerous. “You’d better use everything in your arsenal if you think you can take me down,” he replies, something close to excitement filling his voice.

The two of them square up, the air between them fueled with anticipation. I take a few cautious steps back, giving them plenty of space.

My heart is racing, watching these two powerful males prepare for hand-to-hand combat. Ash trained me with my magic, but I have never seen him in a one-on-one fight like this.

Zander is a force to be reckoned with, with stealth, speed, and a lifetime of experience. But Ash, with his manipulation of gravity . . . how can Zander stand a chance?

The fight erupts in an instant, a blur of movement. Zander is a trained killer, his every step calculated, his strikes lethal and precise. His fists come at Ash with the speed of a striking viper, each punch a deadly promise. Zander moves like a wraith, never still and always on the attack. His agility is unmatched, and the raw power in his movements shakes the air around them.

Ash, on the other hand, is calm, almost too calm. His green eyes never leave Zander’s, a playful smirk still tugging at the corner of his lips, even as he dodges and parries. He is quick, but his movements are less about strength and more about evasion. The way he moves is fluid, graceful, almost effortless.