Semua Bab THE AUREUM TRIAL: BLOOD OATH: Bab 1 - Bab 10

The forest was alive with whispers. A hush that wasn’t quite silence, as though the trees themselves were breathing, watching. Shadows slithered between the gnarled branches, twisting and stretching beneath the silver glow of the moon. My bare feet pounded against the earth, my breath ragged, sharp, burning.I was running. From what, I couldn’t say. But I knew, with every frantic beat of my heart, that if I stopped, if I stumbled, I would die.The growls came first, rolling through the night like a warning. Then, the snap of jaws, the thudding of heavy paws against the ground. They were close…too close.I pushed harder, and the cold air sliced through my lungs. My legs ached, my skin stung where brambles tore at me, but I didn’t stop, I couldn’t. But then my ankle twisted and I fell, and the ground was suddenly gone, a sheer drop beneath me. My scream caught in my throat as I tumbled, crashing through tangled vines and dead leaves before landing on my back, the impact knocking the bre

The impact knocked the breath from my lungs.My back slammed against the cold stone wall, the rough texture biting through the thin fabric of my shirt. A gasp wrenched from my throat, but before I could move, before I could even think, a powerful hand seized my wrist, pinning it beside my head. Another gripped my shoulder, pressing me in place with an effortless strength that made my pulse thunder in terror.I couldn’t see his face.The dim light barely reached us, which leaves his features cloaked in shadows. But his eyes…his eyes pierced through the darkness like twin blades of light.Hydrochromic blue and green.They flickered between the two colors, shifting like an ocean caught between storm and calm, like they couldn’t decide what shade they wanted to be. And for a single, breathless second, I swore I had seen those eyes before.The man in my dream… The one who had saved my life, but this wasn’t a dream, and he was not here to save me.He radiated power, an aura so intense, so s

The next thing I knew, I was standing in the middle of a massive assembly hall, surrounded by hundreds of students. The sheer grandeur of the place stole my breath away. Everything about it screamed wealth, power, and exclusivity. High-arched ceilings loomed above, adorned with intricate chandeliers that cast a golden glow over the space. Velvet banners in deep green and black hung from towering marble columns, each embroidered with the academy’s crest—a crescent moon. The scent of polished mahogany filled the air, grounding me in the reality that I was now a part of this world, whether I belonged here or not.The students filling the hall matched their surroundings, composed, powerful, exuding an effortless confidence that made it clear they were used to being at the top. They moved in tight circles, laughter and whispered secrets weaving through the air like an unspoken language I hadn’t yet learned. But it wasn’t just social. It was something deeper…hierarchy, politics, an unshakab

NEXT MORNINGThe sheets were yanked off my body with a suddenness that jolted me out of a dreamless, restless sleep and the cold air spilled over my skin like a slap.“Get up, Aubrey,” Ingrid’s voice broke through the fog of half-sleep, sharp and impatient. “We’re already late.”I groaned, dragging a pillow over my head. “Late for what?” My voice was hoarse, disoriented. For a fleeting second, I thought I was home—the familiar creak of the wooden floorboards beneath Ingrid’s steps felt like a sound I’d heard a thousand times before in another life. But the ceiling above me was too high, the air too cold, and the walls too silent. Then it hit me, the way a dream slips away and reality digs its claws in.I wasn’t home.Ashwood’s dormitory pressed in around me—strange, cold, and faintly smelling of lavender soap. The events of yesterday returned in fragments, heavy as stones. The assembly. The eyes. Atlas Blackwood.“Breakfast,” Ingrid said, emphasizing each syllable as if speaking to a

The envelope gleamed like it had no right to, resting in the hollow between Ingrid’s bed and mine—as if it had been dropped there by some unseen hand that knew exactly where to place a dagger when your guard was down.I stared at it, unmoving. The world outside our dormitory window was a blur of gray clouds and skeletal branches, but inside, everything seemed too quiet. The envelope, its gold filigree catching the dim light with a shimmer that felt almost smug.“Ingrid,” I said, my voice hoarse from disuse and the exhaustion that clung to me like a second skin. “Look.”She didn’t move at first. She was busy unlacing her boots with exaggerated effort, and muttering about her aching feet and the tyranny of staircase-heavy architecture. But the moment her gaze landed on the envelope, her entire demeanor shifted.“Oh my god,” she breathed, lunging for it with a grace that belied her fatigue. “Is that—”“It has our names,” I murmured, fingers brushing the front of the envelope as she held