The morning before their day off, Elle and Nova headed down to the arena for a training session with Professor Draven.
"There's a new place," Elle said, leaning closer as Draven launched into yet another speech about footwork, precision, and not embarrassing oneself. "Hidden bar. Supposed to be enchanted."
Nova lifted a brow. "Enchanted how? The last 'enchanted' place you took me to had Captain Ryker inside."
Elle laughed. "This one is different. Properly enchanted. Spells woven into the walls. Drinks that change flavors mid-sip. And music that changes in every room."
Nova huffed a laugh. "So, gambling? But with music."
"And dancing," Elle said, pleased with herself.
Nova glanced up and noticed Jax and Cael far across the courtyard, too far away to hear anything and clearly occupied with their own business. Jax stood with a map spread across a low stone bench, marking it with focused attention. Cael stood behind him, arms crossed, surveying the grounds in the opposite direction from where she stood.
It did not occur to Nova that they were, of course, watching with the single-minded intensity of two wolves pretending very hard to be occupied.
Nova and Elle entered the arena, not giving it a second thought.
Professor Draven's patience had already begun to fray, and the class hadn't even finished warm-ups. The students stood in pairs around the sparring ring, each looking like they had been handed a weapon made of responsibility and poor decisions.
"Hand to hand combat," Draven barked, pacing before them. "Simple. Direct. You use your hands. And occasionally your brain, though let's not get ambitious."
Milo and Ash squared off. Ash immediately tried to twirl his fists the same way he twirled his dagger.
Draven wheeled on him. "Greyborne, what in the gods' names are you doing? Are you...spinning your hands? This is a fight, not a festival dance."
"Just warming up," Ash muttered.
"You look like you're trying to charm a snake. Stop it."
On the other side of the ring, Rael Kaelith stood perfectly still, arms folded, nose tilted high.
"Kaelith," Draven thundered. "You are not a decorative statue. Move before moss starts growing on you."
"I am observing my opponent," Rael replied coolly.
"Observation is pointless when it's mutual. One of you throw a punch before I scream."
Rael sighed, extended one elegant hand, and flicked his fingers in a gesture that was supposed to be a strike but looked more like shooing away a fly.
Draven put a hand over his eyes. "That wasn't a punch. That wasn't even an attempt at a punch. That was… I don't know what that was."
Meanwhile, Milo finally lunged at Ash with all the grace of a man tripping over a rug. Ash yelped and ducked, and Milo sailed directly over him, face-planting into the dirt with a thud that echoed.
Draven stared at the crater Milo had left in snow. "…I don't even know who to yell at first."
Millie Vexlyn, to her credit, attacked with enthusiasm. Unfortunately, her enthusiasm was aimed in entirely the wrong direction.
"Millie!" Draven roared. "Your opponent is in front of you!"
She stopped mid-swing and blinked. "Oh. Thought he moved."
"He did not. He has not moved at all. He is currently frozen in fear."
Across the ring, Kylan Emberfang attempted to grapple Brantley Whitlow. Brantley shrieked, twisted, and somehow elbowed himself in the face.
"Kylan, good form," Draven called. "Whitlow… how. How did you do that? How did you strike your own face? Was that intentional? Are you rebelling against me in a very strange way?"
Brantley groaned on the floor.
Draven stopped pacing. He inhaled slowly, nostrils flaring like a dragon trying not to torch the entire class.
"Listen carefully," he said. "The goal is to disable your opponent. Not yourself. Not the air. Not your dignity."
He clapped his hands. "Again!"
Groans echoed around the ring.
"Louder!" Draven snapped. "I feed on your suffering!"
The training went on for another hour when Draven finally lost it. With a sound that could only be described as a strangled scream of despair, he hurled his clipboard into the dirt so hard it puffed up like a smoke signal. Then he threw his hands in the air in the universal gesture of I cannot do this anymore.
"Laps. All of you. Rest of the day. Around the castle walls," he barked, voice cracking like his sanity had finally evacuated.
A collective groan rose from the students.
Draven jabbed a finger at them. "Good. I want it louder. I want the entire kingdom to hear how deeply you've disappointed me today!"
Nova and Elle sighed the resigned sigh of two women who had very much seen this coming. Without protest, they headed toward the gate.
They ran.
Behind them, Draven yelled, "And if any of you collapse, do it with proper form!"
Nova and Elle were exhausted by the end of the day, and quickly hurried to their chambers to clean up. Elle took charge the moment they were rinsed off. She tugged Nova toward their vanity with the bossy confidence of someone who had already decided exactly how the night would go.
She worked through Nova's hair with deft fingers, coaxing it into loose, thick, soft curls that framed her face with effortless elegance.
Nova got dressed while Elle circled her like a tailor with opinions. The skin-tight black pants hugged clean lines down her legs, tucked neatly into boots that rose to her knees with a sharp, confident edge.
The sheer silk camisole she pulled over her head caught the light when she moved, showing lace beneath only if someone looked long enough. It was bold, elegant, but carried a streak of seductiveness. A little sharper. A little more daring. More edge than Nova usually reached for.
Elle stepped back, hands on her hips. "Now that," she said, "is a woman prepared for trouble."
Nova opened her mouth to protest but Elle cut her off before an words came out.
"You're wearing that. No arguing," Elle said, pointing at her with the authority of a general issuing orders before battle.
Elle wore a similar outfit, though hers dipped lower here, shimmered more there, and her boots had slightly taller heels. Tall enough to imply she intended to be trouble. Her makeup was heavier too, smokey and dramatic, the kind that announced she had no intention of blending into any crowd.
She was utterly unashamed of being herself, owning every inch of her look with the confidence of a woman who had never once apologized for existing exactly as she pleased, and Nova loved that about her.
Nova snagged her navy cloak while Elle grabbed her green one, the two of them still laughing as they headed for the door. Nova reached for the handle and pulled it open without looking.
They nearly collided head-on with Jax and Cael.
Both men were planted in the doorway like fixtures, shoulders braced against the frame, arms crossed, expressions so carefully innocent they were incriminating all on their own.
They had the frozen look of people who had been listening just long enough to get caught and were now scrambling to pretend they hadn't.
Cael cleared his throat and looked at the ceiling, which only made it more obvious.
Jax didn't even bother pretending.
"Where are you going, Nova?" he asked with a grin that said he had definitely heard everything.
He stepped forward, slipping past Elle with practiced ease, and wrapped his arms around Nova's hips, pulling her against him before she could form a single syllable of protest.
He kissed her, slow and sure, like he'd earned the right to do it by waiting outside her door like a suspiciously handsome gargoyle.
"You look beautiful," he murmured, his grip tightening in a way that left no room for misunderstanding. He had absolutely no intention of letting her go anywhere without him.
"We have to run an errand tonight, but we'll be back in a few hours," Elle said, aiming for casual.
Cael hooked an arm around her waist and lifted her clean off the ground. She burst into laughter.
"You two are the worst liars in Shadowclaw," he said, shaking his head with a grin.
Jax looked at Nova and, for a second, she forgot how to breathe. Just one look was all it took.
"We're going to a speakeasy," she admitted.
Both Cael and Jax looked surprised. Impressively so, considering they'd absolutely known already.
"You two need protection," Cael said, putting Elle down. His expression shifted from teasing to knight-on-duty in the space of a heartbeat.
"We're the Beta and Gamma," Jax added, straightening as if reciting a sacred oath, "It's part of our duty to monitor the nightlife of Shadowclaw."
This was a lie. A bold, shameless, spectacular lie.
Elle snorted. "This is not an official escort mission, boys."
"No," Jax said, eyes sliding to Nova with a look that made her pulse skip. "It's personal."
They cracked enough jokes, made enough half-hearted threats about how Elle and Nova would get into trouble without them, that it turned into a full-blown bickering circle in the middle of their chamber.
Cael crossed his arms. "If we let you two out unsupervised, the kingdom will be on fire by sunrise."
Elle scoffed.
Jax turned to Nova, shaking his head with a grin. "And you… you attract problems. Even when you're not moving."
Nova bristled, arms crossed. "I absolutely do not."
"Yes you do. Both of you." Cael said immediately.
Elle rolled her eyes, also crossing her arms. "We are perfectly capable of going to a speakeasy by ourselves."
Cael leaned in, the brave, knightly tone gone entirely now, replaced with something annoyingly sincere. "Just let us come with you."
Nova and Elle exchanged a look. Nova had already caved the moment Jax stepped into their chamber, so this was never really about convincing her.
Elle sighed, thoroughly defeated.
"You wear cloaks," she said, yanking hers on and pointing at them like a commander addressing two particularly problematic soldiers. "Both of you. If you're tagging along, we're hiding those faces."
She fixed them with a look. "The Beta and Gamma of Shadowclaw can't even breathe in public without half the city recognizing them."
Jax and Cael both fought the urge to grin.
Mission accomplished.
The bar was hidden in the roots of an enormous silverwood tree in the southeast quarter — one Nova had walked past a dozen times without ever knowing what was beneath it.
Elle knocked three times on the bark, and the outline of a door shimmered into view. She spoke a phrase in Elvish — soft and musical — and the door creaked open, revealing a winding staircase descending into pulsing light and sound.
At the bottom, the space opened into a massive underground chamber lit with glowing vines and orbs of enchanted color. Music pulsed through the air, loud and fast.
It was packed.
They moved through the crowd, grabbing drinks that smoked with pink mist and glittered under the floating lights. Laughter came easily.
Jax kept close to Nova, his hand at her back. His posture was protective and possessive.
After the tenth time he caught someone looking at her too long, he pulled her hood farther over her head and tucked a strand of silver-blonde hair away from view.
Cael leaned toward Elle. "If we get caught, it's her fault."
"Noted," Elle said, sipping her drink. "I'll tell the elders it was Nova's wild, rebellious influence."
Nova coughed, almost choking on her drink.
"It's always the quiet ones," Cael teased.
"I don't see any golden combs in here for her to steal and cause a ruckus with," Jax said playfully, pulling her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her.
Elle and Nova both burst into laughter at once. Cael completely lost it, having already heard the story from Elle and clearly enjoying it far too much.
Jax smiled and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Nova's hood, right where her head rested against him.
Later, the music shifted into something darker, slower. The kind of song that melted into your bones.
Jax tugged Nova gently by the hand toward the dance floor, and she followed without hesitation.
Bodies swayed around them, lost to the rhythm, swallowed by smoke and pulsing color that shifted like living magic. Jax drew her close, and they moved together as if no one else existed, perfectly in sync. Breath and motion blended until the rest of the room melted away.
He kissed her, unable to hold back any longer.
She kissed him back just as fiercely.
The hood of her cloak slid back. Her silver-blonde hair spilled free, catching the enchanted lights overhead. And that was all it took.
Gasps.
Whispers.
Heads turning.
At least one hundred pairs of eyes locking onto her.
People recognized her. She was known at this point. But they couldn't see who she was with. They didn't know the man holding her, the one pulling her closer, the one whose hood stayed just low enough to guard his identity.
She froze upon realizing this, not wanting to pull Jax down with the rumors around her.
Jax felt her emotions through the matebond and understood. He dipped his head, lips brushing her ear as the music swelled around them.
"I don't care who sees, Nova," he whispered, voice low enough to send heat skimming down her spine. "I want them to know you're mine."