Page 76 of Shadows of Change

Before I can process his words, he's behind me, one hand on my waist, the other adjusting my shoulder. The sudden heat of his touch sends a jolt through me, scattering my thoughts. My shadows stutter in their movements, caught between defensiveness and intrigue, mirroring the conflict in my chest.

"Like this," he murmurs, his breath hot against my ear. "Feel the difference?"

My shadows flicker erratically, betraying my flustered state. "I—"

But Torric is already moving again. Everything intensifies as we find our rhythm. He's showing off now, each burst of flame more elaborate than the last, his golden eyes alight with challenge.

"Come on, Sunshine," he taunts, sending a spiral of fire my way. "Show me what you've got."

My shadows surge forward, meeting his flames in a hiss of magic. The collision sends more sparks raining around us, and I can't help but grin at the display.

"That all you've got?"

His answering laugh is rich and deep. He moves like a predator, all coiled grace and barely contained power. When he catches my wrist to adjust my form again, his touch burns in the best way.

"Your magic responds to your emotions," he says, voice dropping low. "So stop holding back."

"I'm not—" I start to protest, but he's already moving, his fire racing toward me in a wave.

My shadows react instinctively, rising up to meet the flames. For a moment, we're locked in perfect balance, fire and shadow dancing together. I feel alive, electric, powerful.

Then Torric grins, and suddenly he's behind me again, one arm around my waist. "Better," he murmurs. "But your balance is still off."

This time when he adjusts my stance, his hands linger. One slides down my arm, guiding my movement, while the other stays firm at my hip. I'm hyper-aware of every point of contact, of the heat radiating from his chest against my back.

"Breathe," he reminds me, and I realize I've been holding my breath. When I inhale, I catch his scent—smoke and spice and something uniquely him.

My shadows flicker and swirl around us both, seemingly drawn to his warmth. One curls around his wrist where he holds me, and I swear I feel him shiver.

"Interesting," he murmurs, but before I can ask what he means, Thorne calls for the switch.

51. Kaia

Training with Aspen is like stepping from fire into cool water. His movements are deliberate, every strike and parry executed with an almost meditative precision. Where Torric's energy is overwhelming, Aspen's is steady, his presence radiating calm assurance that makes it easier to focus and breathe. He moves with fluid grace, each strike precise and measured. When he corrects my form, his touch is gentle but sure.

"You're still tense from sparring with my brother," he observes, demonstrating a defensive move. "Here, like this."

He guides me through the sequence slowly, his chest barely brushing my back as he shows me the proper stance. Where Torric burns, Aspen soothes. His presence is calming, grounding.

"Better," he says softly, and his approval sends an unexpected warmth through me. "Now try it again, but trust your instincts this time."

We fall into a smooth rhythm, blades dancing between us. Aspen moves like he's reading my intentions before I make them, always exactly where he needs to be. When our blades lock, bringing us face to face, I notice flecks of darker blue in his eyes.

"You're holding back," he says quietly, his gaze searching mine. "Why?"

The question catches me off guard. "I'm not—"

"You are." His free hand touches my chin briefly, tilting my face up. "You're afraid of your own power."

His voice drops lower, rougher, sending a shiver down my spine that has nothing to do with magic. Before I can respond, he steps back, twirling his blade in a defensive pattern. "Again," he says. "But this time, trust yourself."

“Next!” Thorne’s voice hammers through the noise of the students sparring.

When Finn becomes my partner, the energy shifts completely. He bounces on his feet, grinning that infectious grin that always makes me want to smile back.

"Ready to see some real magic, Trouble?" he asks, summoning his chaos magic in swirling patterns.

"Is that what you're calling it now?" I tease, but I'm already moving, shadows ready.

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