CHAPTER 40: A CHALLENGE

Few minutes ago...

The banquet hall shimmered under layers of emberlight and wealth. Laughter bubbled from wine soaked lips, conversations hummed like wind through a forge, and beasts rested lazily at the edges of the room, watched by well paid handlers.

Near the far wall, a young man in a crimson trimmed cloak leaned against a carved basalt pillar, swirling a glass of firefruit wine. His green eyes moved lazily across the dance floor until they stopped. His grip stilled.

There she was.

Tall, poised, dressed in clean cut travel formalwear that didn’t try to impress but still did. Her auburn braid shimmered under the chandeliers, and her curves weren’t hidden behind gold or silk like the others. No... she was a warrior. A rough gem. Her voice when she laughed he caught just a flicker of it, it sounded like it could cut glass.

"Who’s that?" Ayan Vaelor murmured, tilting his glass slightly.

A fellow Cinderguard tamer beside him shrugged. "No idea. She’s with the Hollowback kid who won that undercard fight earlier."

"Hollowback?" Ayan scoffed. "That scrawny feeder?"

The other man nodded. "Yeah. The one with the flashy baby beast. Today he became very famous."

Ayan’s lip curled. He followed Fenna’s movements with calculated eyes. The way she moved with confident, alertness. She didn’t smile for everyone. But she smiled for him

, the farmer boy. The tamer who had stolen more spotlight than he deserved.

Ayan’s mind turned cold. "That girl... should be on my arm. Not dancing with some nameless ember rat."

He downed the rest of his wine and rolled his shoulders, the scaled tattoos on his arms shifting like a snake coiled under skin. At his side, the floor handler of his Emberhide Basilisk gave a slight bow, recognizing his expression. He didn’t need to speak.

Ayan stepped off the wall, eyes never leaving Fenna. He didn’t care if they were dancing. He didn’t care who saw. He wanted her.

And in Emberfall, wanting was often enough. He pushed Zephyr in mid dance.

Zephyr blinked as a system window flashed across his vision:

[Hostile Mana Detected: Ayan Vaelor. Rank D

A Wealthy Young Master

Beast Partner: Emberhide Basilisk (Rank D – Scale Type)

Status: Provocative Intent: Dominance / Interference Detected]

Fenna immediately backed away from Ayan and rushed to Zephyr’s side, her expression flickering between concern and rage.

Ayan’s smile oozed confidence. "Didn’t see you there, little feeder. Dance floor’s a dangerous place."

Zephyr’s jaw clenched. He opened his mouth to speak, but Fenna cut in. "How dare you," she hissed. "This is my boyfriend."

Ayan raised his brows lazily, unimpressed. "Is that right?"

Fenna stepped forward, face red with fury. "You don’t get to shove him aside like some stable boy!"

Her hand moved to her waist, reaching for her dagger but before she could draw, a new voice sliced through the tension.

"What is going on here?"

The Phoenix emissary stood between them, flame embroidered sleeves swaying slightly, her presence enough to still nearby conversations. Her eyes glinted like burning steel.

Ayan backed off half a step and bowed. "Apologies, Flamekeeper. It was an accident. The music... I lost my balance."

Zephyr said nothing, watching with narrowed eyes.

The emissary looked from Zephyr to Fenna, then to Ayan. "Let’s not stain the banquet hall with petty quarrels. Shake hands and part ways."

Ayan extended his hand toward Zephyr with mock sincerity. "No hard feelings, right?"

Zephyr took it slowly, reluctantly. And that’s when Ayan leaned in. His voice dropped to a whisper, too low for anyone else to hear.

"If you ever show your face in the arena again, I’ll break every bone in your body," he hissed. "And if you want to live, you’ll offer Fenna to my bed. Otherwise, I will make your life a crawling hell. Be an obedient farmer boy and do what say."

The grip on Zephyr’s hand turned vice-like, just for a breath then released.

Ayan stepped back, smirking. "Pleasure meeting you both."

He vanished into the crowd, the hum of music and laughter rising again around them like a curtain of mockery. Zephyr stood frozen. His body still. But every nerve underneath was lit with fury.

Star stirred on his shoulder, letting out a low growl, sensing the tension. Fenna looked up at him. "Zeph? What did he say?"

Zephyr exhaled slowly through his nose. "Nothing worth repeating."

His hands were still clenched at his sides, veins popping, jaw tight. But he didn’t move. Not yet. Not here. The fire in him would keep burning, for now.

They left the dance floor in silence, the magic of the dance now poisoned with bitter ash. But Fenna stayed close, her arm brushing his. As if she knew.

She didn’t ask again. She didn’t need to. He’d tell her soon. But first, he had to survive long enough to end Ayan’s threat with power, not words.

They left before the last toast.

The walk back to Arlen’s dyehouse. It was quiet, the city’s heat reduced to cooling ash. Emberfall’s upper ring glowed like a necklace of forge gems, but the alleys below were darker, shadows clinging between shuttered shops and cobbled gutters.

Fenna walked close, the night’s silence stretching comfortably between them. Star had fallen asleep by the time they reached the wooden stairwell behind Arlen’s shop.

Arlen had left the attic candle burning, and a note beside a bowl of stew. "Didn’t want to wait up. Good or bad, glad you’re back."

Zephyr read it and smiled faintly. Fenna peeled off her boots and stretched out on the cot, rubbing her shoulders.

Zephyr sat by the window again, staring out into the dark, the bronze token spinning slowly between his fingers. "They really think they can buy everything," he murmured.

"They almost can," Fenna replied from the mattress. "But not you."

He didn’t answer. The token caught the candle light and shimmered like a tiny sun. For a moment, it felt warm again.

He clenched his fist and tucked it beneath his pack. "I will refuse her," he said. "But carefully. We’ll need allies. Just... not chains."