CHAPTER 3

Seraphina’s POV

The morning air was crisp, almost too clean, as if the wind itself had been scoured of impurities. Mist swirled over the grassy plains where we now stood—an open field just beyond the academy’s towering walls. It looked deceptively serene, the tall golden grass waving in rhythm like some enchanted lullaby, but tension crackled beneath the surface.

We were all gathered here for our first assessment: The Trial of the Living Relic. A mystical name for something that felt more dangerous than ceremonial.

Above each of our heads hovered glowing colored bands—charms that shimmered faintly like miniature halos, indicating our assigned pairs. Mine flickered in a rich hue called Bloodstorm Red, a color as intense as it sounded. Unfortunately, it matched me with him.

The werewolf.

Or as I now knew his full name—Kael Thorne.

He hadn’t looked at me once since the professor announced our pairing. His chiseled face was fixed in a tight, annoyed grimace, his jaw ticking like a countdown. The crimson band over our heads seemed to only deepen his irritation, as if the universe had personally insulted him.

Students lined up by pairs, standing beneath flags bearing their band colors. Some laughed and chatted. Others—like me—nursed the dread coiling in their guts. Several male students had already offered their backs to their female partners, who climbed on with lighthearted shrieks and teasing comments. I saw a fae boy actually grow wings to lift his partner into the air with a flourish.

I wouldn’t dare ask Kael for such a courtesy.

He stood with his arms crossed, every inch of him carved from contempt.

Our professor appeared again, this time standing atop a rune-carved platform at the edge of the field. His voice echoed through the clearing as magical sigils lit up beneath our feet.

“Within the forest ahead lies the Aetherbound Grove, home to sentient relics known as the Elarion. You must retrieve one.” His eyes swept over the group. “The Elarion are ancient artifacts born of the forest’s will. They move, they resist, and they choose whom they allow near. Your task: bring back a living relic. The rarer, the better. Return empty-handed, or fail to return at all—and you forfeit your rank.”

A hush fell.

“And should you encounter the Mireling Crown—the forest’s rarest relic, known for its ability to manipulate shadow and time—you will earn not only high merit, but the Headmistress’s personal favor.” He paused. “But beware—it is sentient, elusive, and hostile.”

Great. So a homicidal crown.

With a wave of his hand, the sigils blazed—and the field rippled. The tall grass gave way to a dirt trail that led into the mouth of the forest, dense and swaying like it breathed.

Kael didn’t wait. The second the enchantments dropped, he was gone.

Running.

“Hey—wait!” I called, darting after him.

He didn’t look back.

I was barely able to keep up, my boots pounding against the cracked earth as trees began to blur past. The light dimmed as the canopy thickened. Roots twisted from the ground like hungry fingers. My breath burned my lungs, my vision tunneled—but Kael only pushed faster.

Then without warning—he shifted.

One second he was there, all broad shoulders and stubborn arrogance. The next, a hulking black wolf with streaks of silver down his back took his place, leaping over a fallen tree like a shadow slicing the wind.

I stumbled, nearly tripping.

He didn’t even glance back.

Of course not.

I kept running, deeper into the forest, the trees swallowing me in their green-gold gloom. But the ache started early—first in my calves, then my thighs, then my chest like a crushing weight. I wasn’t built for this. Not yet. Not like him.

After several agonizing minutes, I slowed to a stop, hands braced on my knees, gasping.

“Damn it…” I wheezed. “I can’t…”

A snapping sound.

Kael reappeared from behind a tree, fur receding as his form shifted back into human. Even now, half-dressed with his blazer slung over his shoulder, he looked like a predator annoyed that his prey was lagging.

“What the hell is your problem?” he snapped. “You planning to crawl the rest of the way?”

I winced. “I’m not as fast as you, okay? I’ve never run like this before. I—” I hesitated. “Maybe you could… I don’t know… back me like the other guys are doing?”

Silence.

Then, a sharp, humorless laugh.

“You think I’m going to stoop to that? Carry you around like some swooning damsel?” He took a step closer, voice low and mocking. “What next? You want a tiara and a throne too?”

I bristled. “I didn’t mean it like—”

“I don’t care how you meant it.” His eyes flashed with something darker. “This is my trial. I’ve topped this challenge three years running, and I won’t let some slow, pampered girl screw it up for me. So either keep up—or get out of my way.”

I opened my mouth—then froze.

A deep vibration shook the ground.

The trees groaned. Leaves rustled violently. Something massive stirred in the shadows.

A low hum thrummed through the forest like a warning.

Kael tensed. “Stay behind me.”

From the trees burst a blur of obsidian and violet light—whipping like smoke but with the weight of iron. A shape flickered in and out of visibility: a crown, hovering, spinning, thorns twisting like tendrils.

The Mireling Crown.

Even I knew what it was before Kael said it.

He launched after it without hesitation, shifting mid-leap into his wolf form again. I stumbled behind, forcing my body to move. Branches scratched my arms, the terrain slick and sloping. But Kael was gaining on it—leaping from fallen logs, zigzagging through thick brush like he’d been born in these woods.

He was so close.

Then it happened.

The ground gave way beneath me.

I cried out as I plunged—landing in a pit covered with spiked roots and thorny vines. They wrapped around my limbs like barbed ropes, slashing my arms, drawing blood.

“Kael!” I screamed.

He didn’t hear me at first. He was nearly on the Crown. His claws reached—but then he stopped. Mid-pounce. Something in him must’ve snapped.

He turned.

Our eyes met—and in that second, the Crown vanished into the trees.

He growled in frustration—but ran to me.

His claws slashed the vines away effortlessly. Then he shifted back, picked me up without a word, and bolted through the forest.

His body was warm. Strong. And furious.

I couldn’t tell what hurt more—my body or the fact that I’d cost him the win.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, barely able to keep my eyes open.

“Shut up,” he muttered.

We burst from the forest into the clearing.

Instructors stood waiting with glowing orbs that logged time and artifact value.

Kael stomped forward, still holding me, soaked in sweat and dirt and blood. Whispers broke out immediately.

“She’s bleeding—”

“Did they fail?”

“Thorne’s empty-handed?!”

But Kael didn’t explain. He just dropped to one knee as the magic circles activated again, sealing our time.

Then darkness swallowed me.

The last thing I saw was Kael’s jaw tight with something I couldn’t name.

Not rage.

Not regret.

Something… in between.