---
He didn’t speak.
She paused, taking a sip of wine, "Inside the city no one will dare to harm you. But outside... It’s a different story. You can’t raise your beast without finding resources. Think about it."
She leaned forward now, the illusion of politeness thinning. "We’re offering you legitimacy, Zephyr. Training. Protection. Rare beast contracts. Elite mission access. Enough cores reach higher rank and land to build a small city (for growing beast food), if you stay loyal. If not..."
She tapped the contract. "That’s your choice. But if you leave this hall with the token unreturned, we will expect an answer soon."
Zephyr’s lips thinned. Fenna slammed her palm on the table. "He’s not signing this."
Zephyr looked at her and saw fire in her eyes. She was seething. "Fenna—"
"No. They want to bind you, Zeph. You’ll spend fifty years leashed to orders, missions, and farming. No freedom. No family. Just gilded chains."
Zephyr looked back to the Flamekeeper. "I won’t sign tonight. I’ll... think about it."
A flicker of irritation passed over the woman’s face but she concealed it with a tilt of her head.
"You have three days," she said. "After that, the offer burns."
He bowed slightly. "Understood."
Then, turning his back on the table, Zephyr led Fenna back toward the banquet floor. Star clung to his shoulder silently, his warm breath brushing Zephyr’s neck.
Fenna hissed low, "You can’t be considering it."
"I’m not," he replied quietly. "But I can’t afford to make an enemy this early. Not before we’re stronger. I’ll find a way to refuse them. Gracefully."
Fenna eyed him sideways. "You’d better."
Zephyr forced a small grin, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "Let’s just enjoy the party."
The banquet rolled on like molten glass. It was slow, hot, and full of polished masks.
Gilded chandeliers pulsed with emberlight above the crowd. Musicians played soft strings woven with fire whistles that gave each note a hint of a spark. The dining hall transformed into a spectacle of dancing shadows and gleaming laughter, but beneath the surface, everything felt like a negotiation.
Zephyr and Fenna moved through it slowly, Star resting curled around his neck, his tail flicking now and then as the scent of roasted meats and spice wine tempted his instincts. The crowd thinned briefly as a group of elite trainers took the floor for a demonstration of synchronized beast formations. A twin tailed (Rank E) obsidian hound leapt through hoops of flame while a feathered serpent (Rank E) coiled through a harmony of whistled commands.
Zephyr leaned close to Fenna, voice low. "This is nothing like Lowmoor academy’s or our village feasts."
Fenna snorted. "Yeah! It’s different from what I imagined."
Still, she followed him when he took two glasses from a passing tray. The drink was heavy with heatroot, but smooth, warming Zephyr’s chest more than his throat. Fenna sipped hers without comment, eyes roving the room like a bodyguard. He couldn’t blame her.
"Do you regret coming?" he asked.
She paused, then shook her head. "No. I wanted to see it for myself. And I wanted that old lady to see me with you. Whatever future you’re building, Zeph... I want to be part of it."
He looked at her. Really looked at her. The way her braid caught the firelight. The soft way her fingers curled around the base of her cup. How her eyes held so much concern, shielded behind strength.
"I’m glad you’re here," he said, and meant it.
A voice interrupted them. It was a slim girl in a cloak of woven flame thread, one or two younger than Fenna, but with a ring of steel beast fangs around her neck.
"You’re the Hollowback boy, right?" she asked.
Zephyr’s smile was cautious. "That’s me."
"Your Beast fought like a myth. I lost ten silver beast coins betting against you. Thanks for the lesson." Then she winked. "Next time, I’ll bet on your Hollowback. Don’t lose!"
As she sauntered off, Fenna rolled her eyes. "You’re already turning heads."
Zephyr scratched Star behind the neck, the dragonling purring faintly. "Let them look. We won’t be here long."
Suddenly, The music shifted to something slow, smoldering, like coals rolling beneath silk. A gentle harmony of ember flutes and string chords drifted across the banquet floor, wrapping the hall in warmth and velvet shadows.
Zephyr glanced toward Fenna, his heart still beating from the weight of Fenna’s beauty. He extended a hand.
"May I have this dance?" he asked, voice soft.
Fenna blinked, caught off guard. For a heartbeat, she simply stared at him, the words hanging between them like starlight. Then a faint flush touched her cheeks, rising from her collar to the tips of her ears.
"You’re serious?" she asked, lips curving just slightly.
"I am," he said.
She hesitated at first because there were so many people. It’s her first dance, then slowly placed her hand in his. "Then yes."
The music carried them into motion. Zephyr led her into the circle of dancers beneath the hanging ember lights. They moved together in measured steps, his hand light on her waist, her palm resting on his shoulder. They swayed between the glimmering lights like two pieces of a puzzle, not perfect but fitting. The rest of the world, guild lords, politics, pressure all faded beyond the soft glow of their circle.
Fenna’s eyes met his, and for the first time in days, she smiled fully. Not smirking. Not scowling. Just... smiling. Her body relaxed into the rhythm, her breath syncing with his.
"I never expected you to dance," she whispered.
"Neither did I," he replied. "But right now... I can’t imagine doing anything else."
Their steps slowed, closer now, closer than expected.
And then... out of nowhere, A hard shoulder rammed into Zephyr’s side.
He stumbled back, barely catching himself before he hit another couple.
"Watch it!" Fenna snapped.
The man who’d crashed into them stood tall, with styled coal black hair, rings on every finger, and a robe sleeveless enough to show off tattooed arms that glinted with scale like marks. His eyes were a lazy green, sharp with arrogance.