Nyx was halfway through her second cup of coffee—because hell no, one wasn’t gonna cut it today—when she narrowed her eyes across the table at Noctis, tail twitching behind him like he was born to be a smug little shit.

  “Alright, demon boy,” she said, “spill. You’re the reason I got haunted last night?”

  Noctis gave her a grin so pretty it was probably illegal. “Guilty. Happens sometimes when I’m near someone… sensitive.”

  Milo flashed orange. Suspicious.

  Nyx side-eyed him. “What’s that supposed to mean? Like, spiritually sensitive or emotionally fragile?”

  He leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Why not both, sweetheart?”

  Ruby floated past very slowly and gave him a look that said you try anything and I’ll drag you to the Veil myself.

  Norian set his mug down with a sharp clink. “Stop antagonizing her, Noctis.”

  “I’m not antagonizing,” Noctis said, all innocent fangs and half-lidded charm. “I’m flirting. Subtle difference.”

  Nyx raised a brow. “You’re about as subtle as a kicked-in door.”

  “And yet you’re still talking to me,” he shot back.

  Norian let out a long sigh, like he regretted every life decision that led to this table.

  Once breakfast finally ended (and Norian practically threatened Noctis into stopping at three cups of coffee), the crew headed outside into the castle gardens. Ruby floated nearby like a very stylish, mute chaperone, while Milo drifted in lazy loops around the group.

  Nyx plopped down on a stone bench. “Alright. We’re doing this. Get-to-know-you circle, right now.”

  Norian blinked. “...What?”

  “Yeah. If demon boy’s gonna live here for nine months, I wanna know who’s sleeping under the same roof. Start talking.”

  Noctis was already sprawled on the grass. “I like sparring, sculpting, drinking good wine, and winning arguments.”

  Nyx snorted. “You lost one like, five minutes ago.”

  “That was flirting. Different sport.”

  Norian muttered something about needing more wine already.

  Ruby floated near Nyx’s side, arms crossed, clearly enjoying this way too much.

  Nyx looked over. “Okay, Norian. You’re up.”

  “Twenty-three. Make things. Prefer silence. Hate mornings.”

  “Wow, sounds like so much fun at parties.”

  He gave her a flat look. “I don’t go to parties.”

  “Exactly.”

  Nyx stretched, cracking her knuckles. “I’m seventeen. I write, read, love puzzles. Can’t decide if I wanna punch fate in the face or hug it. My birthday’s next month—January 10th.”

  Noctis perked up immediately. “Oh really? You’re a Capricorn. That tracks.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You into astrology too?”

  “Demon, remember? I’m into everything.”

  He flashed a wink so sharp it could’ve cut glass.

  Ruby shook her head behind him, miming a gag me gesture. Milo flickered orange again—so done.

  Eventually, Nyx stood up and clapped her hands. “Alright, fun’s over. Let’s go burn something.”

  “Training already?” Norian asked.

  “I just drank half a pot of coffee and survived a dream attack. I need to hit something. C’mon, boys.”

  Noctis stood and cracked his neck. “Ohhh, we’re doing combat therapy. I love combat therapy.”

  “You love chaos,” Norian muttered.

  “Same difference.”

  They walked toward the training grounds, Ruby floating behind them like an elegant but definitely concerned ghost nanny. Milo settled on Nyx’s shoulder, already glowing brighter in anticipation.

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  As they reached the wide open yard, Nyx rolled her shoulders and summoned a spark of flame in her palm.

  She smirked at the two men now stretching and warming up.

  “Let’s see who breaks a sweat first.”

  Noctis grinned. “You’re on, Veil Walker.”

  The castle training yard was wide, open, and already sizzling with the weight of energy. Literally.

  Nyx stood in the middle, hands glowing faint with elemental fire while Milo zipped in fast loops overhead, leaving tiny streaks of warm light like a floating sparkler.

  Norian crossed his arms, watching her with that annoyingly patient mentor face while Noctis stretched in an unnecessarily dramatic way nearby, his long tail flicking behind him like a smug cat who knew exactly how hot he looked.

  “Alright,” Norian said, handing her a wooden practice wand. “We’re focusing on Veil-based spell transitions. Elemental support only when necessary.”

  “Translation,” Noctis added, already grinning, “if you blow something up, make sure it’s not us.”

  Nyx smirked. “No promises.”

  First Spell Attempt – Wind Pulse

  She held the wand steady, focusing the energy in her chest. “Rafthera Ventus.”

  A blast of wind shot out, but instead of flying forward, it curved left and slammed into a tree—which groaned before splitting down the middle and crashing with a thunderous crack.

  “...Well shit,” she muttered.

  “Impressive,” Noctis said, clapping slow. “You just assassinated a tree. Nature will not forgive this.”

  Milo turned red. Yikes.

  Norian sighed, then walked over. “Your stance was off. You tilted slightly forward, shifted the current. Watch your angle.”

  He stepped behind her, adjusting her grip gently, his hands steady and warm. Nyx felt her breath catch for half a second.

  “Try again,” he murmured.

  Second Spell – Shadow Bind

  She nodded, focus red-hot now. “Tenebris Vincula.”

  Dark threads of shadow sprang up from the ground like ropes—but this time, too fast. They wrapped around her legs before she could step back and dragged her down flat on her ass.

  Milo shrieked in horror-panic-orange.

  Noctis howled with laughter. “Well damn. You just tied yourself up. Didn’t know we were into that kind of training.”

  “Fuck you,” Nyx muttered from the dirt.

  “Later, maybe,” he winked.

  Norian grumbled something like “This is why I work alone” as he snapped his fingers, unraveling the spell.

  Third Spell – Fire Wall (Success!)

  Now properly pissed, Nyx stood, brushed herself off, and glared at both of them.

  She summoned flame, weaving it through her fingers like thread. “Ignis Murus.”

  The fire burst from her wand and held, forming a perfect wall of flame between her and her opponents. Milo chirped—glowing bright pink—and zipped down to hug her head like an overly emotional fuzzy hat.

  “Fuck yeah,” Nyx breathed. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

  Norian’s eyes flickered, clearly impressed. He didn't say anything, but the nod of approval? Oh, that said plenty.

  Noctis walked through the smoke like a goddamn model on a runway, fangs glinting in the firelight.

  “Hot,” he said. “And not just the spell.”

  Nyx didn’t blush. She absolutely didn’t. “Shut up.”

  “Make me.”

  Norian fake-coughed loudly. “That’s enough. We’re not burning the yard down today.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Nyx muttered.

  ° ° °

  After about an hour more of spells, sparring, and sweat (and only one accidental tail yank—Noctis, again, too close for comfort), they finally called it.

  Nyx slumped against a tree that wasn’t on fire, fanning herself with a magic-scorched sleeve. “Holy hells… That was brutal.”

  “You did better,” Norian said, tossing her a water skin.

  She caught it. “Still messed up half of it.”

  “Progress is messy. And you’re improving.”

  Her head tilted. “You actually admit I’m improving?”

  “I’m not blind,” he muttered, looking away.

  Milo cooed in agreement, flopping across her lap like a sleepy spirit fox plush.

  Then Norian glanced toward her, serious. “There’s something you need to understand about your powers. Veil Magic isn’t like elemental or shadow. It’s… living. It changes depending on your emotions, your focus. It listens to your instincts more than your thoughts.”

  “So if I’m scared, or pissed off…”

  “It reacts. Sometimes violently. Sometimes protectively.”

  Nyx swallowed. “That explains a lot.”

  “You’ll need control. And trust. In yourself. In Milo. In us.”

  She nodded slowly. “That’s scary.”

  “Power usually is.”

  Too wiped to do anything else, Nyx dragged herself inside, ignoring the ache in her shoulders. She showered, threw on clean clothes, scarfed down a sandwich at lightning speed, and collapsed into bed without even saying goodnight to Ruby or Milo.

  ° ° °

  This time, she stood in a field of ash.

  The sky was black. No stars.

  A shape walked through the haze—glowing eyes, long limbs. A voice that wasn’t a voice whispered in her head:

  “Find me. Before they do.”

  And then, from behind, shadowy arms reached up like waves—consuming everything.

  Even her.

  She woke up with a gasp, heart thundering like war drums.

  ° ° °

  After training, Nyx was dragging ass, sore from every spell misfire and overly dramatic spar Noctis had turned into a damn theatrical performance.

  By the time she got to her room, Ruby and Milo were already knocked out—Ruby curled up like a silent statue under a blanket, and Milo sprawled on a pillow puffed up like a glowing cotton ball.

  Nyx grabbed her clothes and padded to the bathroom. Hot water hit her skin like a blessing. She let it wash over her, forehead resting against the tile, letting herself breathe.

  Just as she reached for the soap—

  Click.

  The door cracked open.

  Nyx jolted. “What the fuck—!?”

  And there he was.

  Noctis. Fully dressed in dark silk and sin, blinking like oh no, how could this happen? But there wasn’t an ounce of actual guilt in those red eyes.

  “...Oops?” he said, smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now!?” she shouted, yanking the shower curtain halfway in front of her. Not like it did much, but her pride demanded the attempt.

  “I swear,” he raised both hands like a sinner at confession, “I was looking for the tea pantry.”

  “In the bathroom?!”

  “I don’t know this castle yet! Everything smells like herbs and wet stone!”

  “Get out!” she snapped, face burning hotter than the shower.

  “I mean, for what it’s worth—” he paused, and oh gods, he was still staring, “—you look... powerful.”

  “I will throw this damn soap at your face.”

  “Oh no, not the soap,” he said with zero concern.

  She launched it. He dodged. Grinned wider.

  “I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” he laughed, stepping backward into the hallway. “But next time, lock the door, sweetheart.”

  She slammed it shut with magic and muttered every curse word she knew under her breath.

  Outside, Noctis leaned against the doorframe for a second, grinning to himself before strolling off—whistling like a bastard who just had his best day ever.