LOGINZenith’s POV
The morning sun peeks over the ridges of Lake Tahoe, spilling gold across the villa and the greenhouse at plot 13. I breathe it in, letting the crisp mountain air fill my lungs, while Darian, Lysander, and Elysia are already at work among the rows of herbs.They are surprisingly efficient, though I can see the occasional clumsy twitch, new hands still learning the delicate dance of pruning, weeding, and tending plants that hold more magic than most mortals could imagine. “Careful with the silverleaf,” I say, kneeling beside them to inspect a particularly wilting patch. “If you pull too hard, you’ll lose the entire stem. It’s rare for a reason.”Darian nods, biting back a grin, while Lysander smirks at me, clearly trying to show off his technique. Elysia, meanwhile, hums quietly as she trims, her focus precise, almost meditative. Watching them, I feel a warmth spreading through my chest. Barely two months in the villa, and already thAlejandro’s POV Eldric did not summon a ring. He did not clear space or draw a boundary or warn anyone to step back. That should have terrified me. Instead, it focused me. The others watched from a distance, Valerius silent as a carved monument, Cassian restless and sharp-eyed, Seraphine unreadable, Zenith standing where she always did now: close enough to anchor me without interfering. Inferno stirred low and steady, no longer coiled for combat but alert and observant. Eldric planted his staff into the earth once. The sound was dull. Unremarkable but reality locked. I felt it immediately, not pressure, not weight, but finality. The air no longer bent. Time did not stretch. Distance became absolute. Every instinct that relied on momentum, speed, or improvisation simply… failed to activate. I tried to step forward. My body refused. Not paralysis. Authorization denied. “You feel it,” Eldric said calmly. His voice carried no malice, no triumph. “Good. Most never do. They mistake ine
Alejandro’s POV Cassian left bruises. Seraphine left questions. By the time she stepped into the ring, my body had mostly recovered. Inferno had knitted muscle and bone with impatient efficiency, but the deeper fatigue lingered, the kind that settled behind the eyes, where instincts had been dragged out into the open and examined under harsh light. Seraphine did not look at me like prey. That alone unsettled me. She rose from the platform with unhurried grace, silver rings chiming softly as she descended into the circle. No surge of power announced her. No pressure bent the air. The wards Eldric had placed remained passive, as if unsure whether they were needed. “Do you know why witches terrify warriors?” she asked gently. I shook my head. “Because we don’t fight you,” she said. “We decide who you are when the fight begins.” Zenith shifted at the edge of the clearing. Inferno stirred, wary now, not of violence, but of influence. Seraphine smiled faintly. “This will not hurt,”
Alejandro’s POVValerius left me with silence. Cassian gave me none. “Stand up,” he said cheerfully, the word carrying like a thrown blade across the training grounds.I had barely stepped out of the ring when his voice followed me, bright with anticipation. My muscles were still trembling from Valerius’s lesson, my bones intact, my pride less so. Inferno remained coiled beneath my ribs, watchful now in a different way. Less wary of attack. More wary of corruption.Cassian had not moved from his pillar. He didn’t need to. “You look like a man who thinks he’s learned something,” he continued. “That’s dangerous.”I straightened anyway, rolling my shoulders, testing the aches Valerius had left behind. Nothing broken. Nothing spared. “What do you teach?” I asked. Cassian’s grin widened, sharp and unapologetic. “Honesty.”He pushed off the pillar and walked into the ring with the lazy confidence of a predator who had never known urgency. Where Valerius had felt like inevitability, Cassian
Alejandro’s POVNow that the bloodcraft had stabilized, there was nowhere left to hide. Inferno was quiet in a way that told me everything had changed. Not withdrawn. Not sleeping. Simply… watching. The old wolf was no longer braced against the world on Zenith’s behalf. The threat had shifted inward, and he knew it. So did I.Dawn found me in the lower training grounds, the stone ring still cold from the night, the air sharp with pine and lake mist drifting up from Tahoe below. My breath fogged as I exhaled, steady, measured. Muscles loose. Spine aligned. Every habit drilled into me by years of discipline checked and rechecked.My body had been reforged by thunder tribulation, hammered until weakness burned away. I had mastered human combat systems, ancient and modern, angles, leverage, economy of motion. Against humans, I was lethal. Against most supernaturals, I was competent. That illusion lasted exactly three heartbeats.Valerius Drakos stood at the edge of the circle, arms folded
Zenith’s POVAs dawn struck, I was already at Plot Thirteen. The mist still lingered, clinging to the basin and the freshly aligned vessels, their sigils faintly glowing with the residual pulse of the previous night. I stepped carefully, Alejandro at my side, his presence grounding me in the quiet hum of anticipation. I felt Inferno stir through our mate bond, not urgent, not impatient, just watching, steady and warm, like a heartbeat threaded through my spine.Seraphine arrived silently, as though she had grown from the forest itself. Eldric followed, methodical, his eyes scanning the vessels with that same piercing calculation he always wore. I could feel the land itself leaning closer, attentive to our intentions, waiting for the next step.“This is the phase that will define the bloodcraft,” I murmured, more to myself than anyone else. “If we falter here, it will echo in everything that follows.”Seraphine crouche
Zenith’s POVThe early morning mist still clung to Plot Thirteen when we returned to the vessels. The barrels glimmered faintly in the rising sun, runes alive with the memory of blood, lineage, and consent. I felt the land beneath my feet hum, patient but alert, as though it, too, wanted to witness what would come next.Alejandro’s hand found mine again, grounding me. “They trust you,” he whispered. “Now we see if it will trust them.”Lucien stepped forward first, calm and deliberate. He had been the foundation, the volunteer whose willingness had anchored everything. I had watched him transform from the man bracing against hunger into someone lighter, freer. Now, he would show the first test of our work.Seraphine and Eldric flanked the vessels, their presence quiet but vigilant. I knelt beside the first barrel, inhaling the faint scent of iron, ley ash, and herbs a scent that was becoming familiar, almost comforting. “Remember,” I







