Page 32 of Ashes to Ashes

The room falls silent. My heart stutters, missing a beat before resuming with painful force.

“An interesting observation,” I reply, keeping my voice steady though my stomach knots with sudden nausea. “Combat evolution often develops parallel techniques across different traditions. Similar problems frequently yield similar solutions.”

She looks unconvinced.

A ripple of whispers spreads through the students. I catch fragments.

“...moved like Wild Court royalty...”

“...impossible for a human...”

One Unseelie boy studies me with narrowed eyes, leaning to whisper something to his companion that makes them both look at me with sudden, intense focus.

As Briar returns to his place, I notice movement at the arena entrance. Finnian has arrived, watching with obvious approval, his amber eyes catching the light with unnatural brightness. His lips curve into a smile that makes my chest tighten unexpectedly.

Beside him stands another observer, partially concealed in shadows but radiating a presence that fills the room like a physical pressure, a cold front before a storm.

Kieran Nightshade.

Our eyes meet across the distance, and the thorn patterns beneath my sleeve pulse painfully, a burn that shoots from wrist to shoulder like lightning through my veins. My breath catches, lungs momentarily forgetting how to function. The pendant around my neck turns ice-cold in response, as if fighting against my body’s reaction to him.

I break the contact first, turning my attention back to the class.

“Now, I’d like each of you to?—”

The doors burst open. A man strides in with the confident gait of someone who owns whatever space he occupies. Tall, powerfully built, with hair like living flame that flickers with internal light. He’s dressed for practical combat—leather vest, boots that make no sound.

His entrance doesn’t just change the air—it electrifies it. He brings with him the scent of woodsmoke and something wilder—lightning-struck earth, ozone, and pine sap.

Every student in the room straightens perceptibly. Two Seelie girls nervously smooth their hair. An Unseelie boy stops slumping and stands at attention.

“Professor Wildfire,” several murmur with obvious respect.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he announces, not sounding sorry at all. His voice carries the rough edge of someone more comfortable outdoors than in academic settings. “Heard we had combat demonstrations and couldn’t resist observing.”

His gaze lands on me with surprising intensity. His pupils shift from round to vertical when he looks at me. Hair flickers with actual flame. Not human anymore.

He looks me up and down, lips curving into a smile that’s pure sin.

“You must be our human combat specialist.” The way he says it makes it sound like a private joke between us, intimate and teasing. “Though you move like anything but human.”

Something about the way he sayshumancarries a subtle question mark. A test.

“Professor Morgan,” I confirm with a professional nod, ignoring the way my skin prickles in his presence, tiny hairs standing at attention along my arms.

“Orion Wildfire,” he replies, closing the distance between us. “Wild Court combat instructor.”

He glances around at the students, noting Briar’s still-surprised expression. His eyes return to mine, lingering like a physical caress.

“I see you’ve already made quite an impression.” The way he says it sounds like we’re sharing a private joke. “Pretty and dangerous.” His eyes rake over me with unabashed appreciation. “My favorite combination.”

“We were discussing adaptive techniques versus established forms,” I explain, maintaining a neutral tone despite the sudden tension in the room.

“Were we? Because I’m more interested in discussing what other... adaptations you might be hiding.” His smile turns predatory. “Care to demonstrate some private lessons, Professor?”

The dynamic has shifted with his arrival—students watching expectantly, Finnian looks concerned, and Kieran’s expression darkens to something dangerous, shadows around him deepening visibly.

“Perhaps a public demonstration would be more appropriate,” I counter.

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