Novels by Celestia

Jason's POVThe thing that crashes through the window isn't the massive beast we saw in the forest. This one is smaller, more human-shaped, but that makes it worse somehow. Its limbs bend in directions that hurt to look at. Its face keeps shifting, features sliding around like they can't decide where they belong. When it moves, the air around it ripples like water.My shoulder burns where its claws caught me. The pain is sharp and hot, but it's nothing compared to the terror crawling up my throat. This isn't just some random monster. It's here for me. I can feel it pulling at something deep in my chest, trying to grab hold of the bond that connects me to the others and tear it apart."Banishment ritual," Kaelen shouts from somewhere to my left. His voice sounds far away, muffled like he's speaking through thick glass. "We need salt and iron and—"But I can barely hear him. The creature's attention is fixed on me, and under its gaze, everything else fades to background noise.Avalon mo

Ivan's POVI reach the archives just as the doors slam shut. The sound echoes across the courtyard like a death sentence. I don't hesitate – I slam my fist against the heavy wood, testing the locks. They don't budge. These aren't normal academy locks. Someone reinforced them. Someone who wanted to make sure whoever's inside stays inside."Shit," I breathe, stepping back. Through the narrow window beside the entrance, I can make out figures moving on the upper level. Jason's pale hair catches what little light filters through. He's up there with Kaelen and Avalon, and I'm stuck out here like a useless fool.The bond tears at my chest, demanding I get to them. To him. It's been like this for weeks now, this need to stay close to Jason, to touch him, to make sure he's safe. But it's worse tonight. The pull is so strong it makes my teeth ache.I force myself to think. Getting emotional won't help anyone.That thing in the forest is still moving. I can see it now, prowling along the treel

Avalon's POVThe practice sword feels good in my hands. Heavy. Real. I've been here for two hours, working through the same sequence over and over until my muscles burn and my mind goes quiet. The combat wing is empty this late. That's how I like it.I raise the sword, pivot, strike. The blade cuts through air with a clean whistle. Again. Pivot, strike. My breathing stays even. This is the only time my head doesn't feel like it's going to split open from all the noise inside.Then the howl starts.It's not like anything I've heard before. Not human, but not animal either. Something in between, something wrong. The sound crawls under my skin and makes every hair on my body stand up. My sword clatters to the floor before I realize I've dropped it.The howl goes on and on. Must be a full minute before it finally dies. When it stops, the silence that follows is worse. Too quiet. Like the whole world is holding its breath.I stand there for a second, heart hammering. Every instinct I have

Jason sits at his desk, the scent blocker still in his palm when the knock comes. It isn't tentative like Avalon's usual approach, or aggressive like Ivan when he's frustrated. Just firm, composed, deliberate. Three measured raps against the wood that somehow sound official. He expects one of the three—Kaelen with his calculated warnings, Avalon with his careful concern, or Ivan with his barely contained intensity. But the voice that follows doesn't belong to any of them. "Jason?" The voice is calm, unfamiliar, but carries the weight of someone who isn't used to being refused. There's an authority in it that makes Jason's stomach drop, professional and distant in a way that tells him this isn't a social visit. He doesn't open the door right away. His thoughts spiral about the inspection earlier, the near discovery, that drawer he's now checked three times in the last hour. The scent blocker grows slick with sweat in his palm as he stares at the door, heart hammering. *Who is th

Jason doesn't move.The shadow outside his door lingers, motionless, too still to be a passerby. For a heartbeat, he forgets how to breathe. His hand remains frozen on the door lock. The shape doesn't shift like someone walking past. It stays there, deliberate and patient. *They know I'm here.*Then, as if whoever it is senses he's on the other side, the shadow moves—but not away. It stays. Jason slowly retreats from the door, every instinct screaming at him that something is wrong. His bare feet make no sound on the cold floor. He backs toward his bed, never taking his eyes off that thin line of light at the bottom of the door.The shadow shifts slightly. A small movement, like someone adjusting their weight. Waiting.Jason's heart pounds so loud he's sure they can hear it through the door. His throat feels tight. The bond in his chest thrums with anxiety, making his skin crawl with restless energy.Minutes pass. Maybe five, maybe ten. Time stretches until Jason loses track of how l

Jason doesn't sleep that night.He lies still on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling where shadows shift with the wind outside his window. The weight of everything presses down on his chest like a physical thing. Ivan's touch still lingers on his skin, phantom warmth that shouldn't feel so real hours later. Avalon's words keep echoing in his head, cutting through any attempt at peace. And somewhere in the drawer across the room, the scent blocker sits hidden like a ticking bomb waiting to explode his carefully constructed world.His skin hums in strange places. Along his wrist where Ivan's fingers had brushed. At his shoulder where their contact had lasted a second too long. It's like a phantom memory of contact he shouldn't want, shouldn't crave, shouldn't be thinking about at all.The bond used to be just a whisper under his skin, easily ignored most days. Now it's a drumbeat. Constant, loud, impossible to silence. Every heartbeat seems to match its rhythm, and Jason presses his pal