Nyx's POV
"Dead," he said simply. "What went wrong?"
"Everything." I was breathing hard. "You're too fast. I can't…"
"You can. You're just panicking." He stepped back. "When someone moves faster than you can track, you don't try to match their speed. You predict where they'll be and put obstacles in their path before oothey get there."
"How am I supposed to predict…"
"Watch." He moved into a combat stance. "I'm going to attack the same way I just did. Exactly the same sequence. Watch my body language. Watch where my weight shifts. Then tell me where I'm going to strike."
He moved through the sequence in slow motion. I watched his shoulders, his hips, the way his weight transferred.
"Right side, high," I said. "Then left side, low. Then…"
"Good. That's the pattern. Every fighter has patterns, even when they try to vary them. You learn to read them, you learn to counter them." He reset to the starting position. "Now defend. Don't try to block every strike. Just disrupt my pattern."
He attacked at full speed again.
This time, I didn't try to track his blade. I watched his body and threw up ice where I predicted he'd be.
The barrier caught him mid-strike. He pulled back, adjusted, and came at me from a different angle.
I created another barrier. And another.
"Better!" He was grinning now, even as he worked to get past my defenses. "You're thinking ahead instead of just reacting!"
We went three full minutes before he finally got past my ice walls and tapped my ribs with his blade.
"Much better," he said. "You're learning to use your magic strategically instead of desperately."
I was breathing hard, sweat soaking through my tunic, but I couldn't help smiling. "I didn't die instantly."
"Progress." His grin matched mine. Then his expression shifted and became more serious. "Now comes the hard part. We go full intensity. I'm not holding back, you defend with everything you have. This is as close to real combat as we can get without actual danger."
"How long?"
"Until one of us yields or can't continue." He moved back to the starting position. "Remember everything you've learned. Patterns, prediction, strategic magic use. And Nyx?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't hold back either. If you see an opening, take it. I can handle whatever ice you throw at me."
Through the bond, I felt his certainty. He believed I could do this.
"Alright." I raised my sword and felt Frost's power humming under my skin, ready. "Come at me."
He did.
The next ten minutes were the most intense of my life.
Kael moved like water—fluid, fast, constantly shifting. Every time I thought I'd found his pattern, he changed it. Every barrier I erected, he found a way around or through. He didn't give me time to think, only to react.
But I was learning.
After five minutes, I started to see it—the tiny tells in his movement, the split-second warnings before he changed direction. I started putting ice barriers not where he was, but where he was going to be.
It was working. Slowly, but working.
Until Kael decided to change tactics entirely.
Instead of trying to get past my barriers, he started shattering them with enhanced strength strikes. Ice exploded into shards with each blow, forcing me to constantly create new defenses.
My magical reserves were draining fast. I could feel the exhaustion setting in, the pull on my life force that came from using too much power too quickly.
'Use the bond,' Frost suggested suddenly. 'He's connected to you. Use that connection.'
I didn't understand what she meant.
Until I did.
Through the life-bond, I could feel Kael's intentions a split second before he acted. Not his thoughts—not exactly—but his emotional intent. The decision to strike, the shift in focus, the commitment to a direction.
I stopped watching his body.
I started feeling his intent.
The next barrier I created appeared exactly where he'd planned to strike before he'd even begun the movement.
He pulled up short, eyes widening. "How did you…"
I didn't answer. Just felt for his next move through the bond and created ice accordingly.
For thirty seconds, I was ahead of him. Predicting perfectly. Defending without effort.
Then I felt it—his realization through the bond. His understanding of what I was doing.
I thought he'd call me a cheater but instead, he smiled. I should have seen that as a red flag.
The ice appeared in the wrong place.
His practice blade caught my side hard enough to knock the wind out of me. I went down on one knee, gasping.
"Yield?" he asked, sword at my throat.
"Yield," I managed.
He lowered the blade immediately and offered his hand. I took it, letting him pull me to my feet.
"That was clever," he said. "Using the bond to read my intentions. I didn't expect that."
"Neither did I." I rubbed my side where he'd struck. "Until you figured out how to lie through it."
"Combat is adaptation." But his grin was genuine. "You learned something in the middle of a fight and immediately applied it. That's an excellent instinct."
"The Council demonstration," I said, still catching my breath. "Is that what they'll expect? Full combat with weapons and magic?"
"Probably. Maybe worse." He was stretching now, working out the tension from the fight. "They'll want to see how you handle pressure. How you think on your feet. Whether you can survive real combat."
"Do you think I can?"
He looked at me.
"Five days ago? No." He said it bluntly. "Today? Maybe. If you're smart and use your advantages. In three more days?" He paused. "Yes. I think you'll surprise them. Assuming we use the time wisely."
"More sparring?"
"More everything. We increase intensity across the board—combat, magic, conditioning, strategy. You've got the basics down. Now we refine them and build your endurance so you can execute when you're exhausted."
He moved toward the cottage. "But first, break. Food, rest, then we resume in an hour. Your body needs recovery time or you'll hurt yourself."
I followed, acutely aware of every ache, every bruise forming, every muscle screaming.
"Kael?"
He stopped, looked back.
"Thank you. For pushing me. For not holding back." I gestured at my various sore spots. "Even though I'm going to be covered in bruises."
"Bruises heal. Bad habits in combat get you killed." But through the bond, I felt his warmth at the thanks. "You did well today, Nyx. Better than I expected."
The way he said my name made me feel warm and hot. I couldn't hold back the grin.
We'd been living together for five days now, training together every waking hour. The life-bond forced constant awareness of each other's presence, emotions, state of being.
And somehow, impossibly, it was starting to feel less like a prison and more like… partnership.