The training hall smelled of sweat, torches, and something sharper—anticipation. I stepped in cautiously, aware that the three of them were already waiting. Kael leaned against the wall, arms crossed, jaw tight. Riven paced slowly, every step measured, eyes flicking to me and then away. Solen stood still, hands clasped behind his back, expression unreadable—but I could feel it in the threads between us: simmering tension, barely contained.
Astraea pulsed beneath my ribs, warm and steady. Tonight is different, she warned. The bond will test more than patience.
I swallowed. Then I'll meet it.
Lyris was already there, leaning casually against the far wall, smirk faint but sharp, her eyes gleaming like a predator sizing up prey. Every instinct screamed caution. She won't just watch, Astraea murmured. She'll interfere if given a chance.
I ignored her. I had bigger problems. The bond thrummed violently, uneven, reactive to every thought, every emotion in the room.
"Start with projection," Kael said abruptly, his voice rough with something between frustration and fear. "Show me you can manage it."
I narrowed my eyes. "And if I refuse?"
"You won't," Riven said, voice low. "You can't."
The three of them spoke at once—intention, emotion, doubt—all twisting into the bond. Pain shot through my chest. My knees shook. I stumbled backward, but I caught myself, teeth gritted.
Anchor, Astraea commanded. Draw the threads into your core. Do not let them bend you.
I inhaled, letting the bond flow through me like water, pulling heat and sharp edges into rhythm. Slowly… almost imperceptibly… it began to settle.
Then it snapped.
A sudden flare of energy ripped through the threads, shocking all four of us. Kael staggered, clutching his chest. Riven's knees nearly buckled. Solen's jaw clenched so hard it looked like it might break. And me—I gasped, barely staying upright, feeling as though my heart itself had exploded in heat and pressure.
"Focus!" I shouted, pain and frustration lancing through me. "Anchor or it will destroy you!"
Kael growled, the thread thrumming violently as his control slipped. Riven cursed under his breath, and Solen exhaled sharply, jaw unclenching only slightly. The energy was relentless. Every thought, every suppressed emotion, every flicker of jealousy or desire in their hearts now burned inside me.
I stumbled, gripping the stone floor. "Enough! You are not controlling me! The bond is not your weapon!"
From the shadows, Lyris stepped forward, faintly, deliberately. She let her fingers brush the air near the threads, subtle, almost invisible. See? See the instability? she whispered in my mind—not to me, but to the air, to herself. I felt it—a tiny jolt, faint but deliberate. The bond flared again, reacting to her interference.
"You're…" Kael's voice trailed, caught in shock and fear.
"Dangerous," Riven said softly, more to himself than to me.
Solen's hand twitched, a reflexive gesture as if he could hold the threads tighter, control better. But the flare had shocked even him, and he could only watch, stunned.
The room went quiet, but the air felt electric, buzzing with tension, pain, and power barely restrained. I swallowed hard. "This is the consequence of honesty," I said, voice steady despite the burn in my chest. "When you lie to yourself or each other, the bond bites back. It doesn't forgive."
Kael's chest heaved. "We didn't—"
"No," I interrupted, glare sharp. "You didn't understand. That is different."
Riven's shoulders slumped slightly. "Then teach us."
Solen finally spoke. "If the bond reacts like this, we need guidance. Not control."
I nodded once, short, firm. "Then we start again. Step by step. But you follow my rules."
All three hesitated—Kael flinching, Riven uncertain, Solen unreadable—but they nodded, just slightly. Enough.
Astraea hummed beneath my ribs, satisfaction soft but clear. Good. They're learning. Even if slowly.
And Lyris? She melted back into the shadows, smirk never leaving her face. She hadn't touched the threads this time—at least not directly—but the faint disruption she caused was enough. Enough to remind me she was still a threat, still waiting for the moment to exploit weakness.
I exhaled, muscles aching, body trembling from the feedback of the bond. "This is not weakness," I whispered to the empty room. "This is awareness. Control earned, not taken."
Kael, Riven, and Solen each exhaled in their own way. Frustration mixed with newfound respect, tension tempered by understanding.
I took a step back, letting the bond relax slightly. It wasn't fully stable, but it was mine now, at least for the moment.
And as the torches flickered shadows against the stone walls, I realized something crucial: the bond didn't just test strength.
It tested honesty.
It tested limits.
And it was already showing me who could survive—and who would break first.