I was jolted awake by a shouting match that practically vibrated through the floorboards. I rubbed my eyes, my head throbbing. I'd stayed up way too late replaying the feeling of Nightshade's teeth on my skin—that cold, invasive hum of his magic. I was beyond pissed. I wanted to stay in bed until he somehow evaporated, but the yelling downstairs was only getting louder.
"WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU TELL US?" Lori's voice was like a thunderclap.
I dragged myself out of bed and crept into the hallway. Downstairs, the tension was thick enough to choke on. Lori was pacing, his face a mess of awe and total fury. Jasmia looked like she'd seen a ghost. Meanwhile, Nightshade was just sitting at the kitchen table, looking bored as he calmly sipped a glass of milk.
"You were in the Tasukai Association?" Lori barked. "Ranked eighth? You were on a team with Denra?"
"You never asked," Nightshade said with a casual shrug, his gray eyes tracking a stray dust mote.
"Denra is a legend, man!" Lori put his hands over his head, pacing even faster. "He's the top fire-user in the country. And you just... walked away?"
"I was going to suggest we register as a new group," Nightshade giggled—that light, mocking sound that always got under my skin. "With me included, obviously."
"But why?" Jasmia's voice was small. "You left a top-ten team for... us?"
Nightshade's gaze shifted to the corner of the hallway where I was hiding. A slow, predatory smirk spread across his face. "Not for 'us,' Jasmia. For her."
He was on me before I could retreat, draping a heavy arm around my shoulders. I went stiff, glaring at him, but he just patted my head like I was some prize hound. He smelled like rain and something sweet—like vanilla masking a metallic edge.
"How was your sleep, little disaster?" he whispered right into my ear.
"Don't touch me," I snapped, shaking his arm off. But the room was already moving. Lori, still looking pissed but way too intrigued to say no, started grabbing his gear.
"Fine," Lori muttered. "If we're doing this, we're doing it now. Everyone get ready."
The air in the basement smelled like burnt toast and ozone. While Lori and Jasmia scrambled to pack bandages and energy bars, I went to the corner to check my stuff. My hands were still a little shaky—not from being tired, but from that lingering "chill" Nightshade left behind.
I pulled on my black hooded jacket, the fabric feeling like a second skin. As I reached for my dual blades, a pale hand beat me to it.
Nightshade was leaning against the weapon rack, his fingers hovering just an inch above the obsidian hilts. He wasn't touching them, but I could see a faint shimmer of his Absolute Undo rippling around his fingertips like heat haze.
"I told you not to touch my things," I hissed, stepping into his space to snatch them back.
"I'm not touching," he murmured. He didn't move back as I approached; instead, he tilted his head, watching me with an intensity that made the hair on my arms stand up. "I'm observing. These blades... they aren't just steel, Tsukia. They're a tether. Without them, that 'leak' in your soul would have drowned you years ago."
"You don't know anything about my soul," I retorted, buckling the blades to my waist.
He stepped closer—way too close. I could smell that crisp winter air that seemed to follow him. He reached out, not for the swords, but for a stray lock of my hair, twirling it slowly between his fingers. His gray eyes went unreadable, losing that mocking glint for a second.
"I know what it tastes like, though," he whispered, his voice dangerously low. He leaned down, his lips nearly brushing my ear, sending a shudder straight down my spine. "You're dangerous, little disaster. But you're mine. Remember that when we get to the Association. Don't let anyone else... taste you."
"I don't belong to you," I said, though it came out as a breathless whisper. My heart was drumming a terrified, frantic rhythm.
"Hey! Are we going or what?" Lori's voice barked from the stairs, cutting through the heavy silence between us.
Nightshade's smirk came back instantly. The serious, possessive mask was gone. He patted my shoulder—a heavy, lingering touch—and strolled toward the exit.
"Coming, Captain!" he called out mockingly.
I stood there for a second, my skin still tingling. I hated how easily he could switch from predator to provocateur.
"Kia? You okay?" Jasmia asked, slinging a med-kit over her shoulder. She looked at me with a mix of worry and maybe a warning. "Don't let him get under your skin. He's... he's a lot."
"I know," I muttered, pulling my hood low. "Let's just get this over with."
At the Tasukai Association
The T.A. headquarters was a massive monolith of black glass that seemed to swallow the sunlight. Inside, the lobby was a chaotic hive of "Gifted" people. Posters of wanted criminals and monsters lined the walls. My anxiety flared—it felt like being in a room full of unsheathed knives.
Lori noticed me trembling and grabbed my hand, pulling me through the crowd. Nightshade led us straight to a guarded elevator.
"T.A.," Nightshade whispered to the guard.
The guard's eyes widened. He pressed an unmarked black button, and the elevator plunged downward with a violent shake.
When the doors opened, we were in a subterranean world of neon and shadows.
We were led into an office where a man named Darren was lounging. He saw Nightshade and grinned. "Is Denra okay with this? He was pretty attached to you, Ash."
"We're buddies," Nightshade chirped. "He'll live."
A professional-looking woman at the desk stood up. "Welcome. Since you're here for Combat registration, let me be clear: The Tasukai Association is a secret society. We handle the jobs the government won't touch—killing, spying, hunting. We pay for results, but we don't offer protection. If you die, you're just a statistic."
"We'll take Combat," Nightshade interrupted, his eyes flashing.
They took us to a room where a young girl with milk-white eyes sat. She looked no older than ten, but her presence felt ancient.
"This is Chief Sheira," our guide whispered. "Her Ability lets her see the 'core' of a person's power. The cost was her growth—she's trapped in that body forever."
Sheira's gaze landed on Jasmia. "A healer. Stable. Necessary." She moved to Lori. "Potential for immense growth. A flickering sun."
Then, she looked at me.
The room went cold. Sheira's brow furrowed, her white eyes glowing with a frustrated light. "That's strange," she whispered. "I see... a void. Are you sure you even have an Ability, girl?"
My heart hammered. I felt exposed, like a fraud about to be kicked out. But before I could say anything, Nightshade stepped in front of me. He took my hand, his thumb rubbing over my pulse point in a way that felt strangely grounding.
"Her Ability keeps people from seeing 'through' her," Nightshade lied smoothly, his voice dripping with confidence. "That's why I left Denra. Her power is... inscrutable. Even to eyes like yours."
Lori and Jasmia jumped in, nodding frantically. Sheira hesitated, then sighed. "I trust Nightshade's instinct. He's one of our best. You pass."
"Congratulations," the receptionist said a few minutes later, handing Lori a set of black ID tags. "Based on Nightshade's standing, your group is starting at Rank 16. To rise, you have to earn points. And remember: there are no rules against sabotage. Kill or be killed."
She leaned in with a devilish smirk. "Your first mission: Go to Jamana Mountain. Find the Dragon's Lair. Bring back the head."
As we walked out, Nightshade's arm found its way back around my shoulders. He was leaning in way too close again.
"Why did you lie?" I hissed under my breath. "She couldn't see my power because I have zero control, not because I'm 'blocking' her."
Nightshade stopped, looking down at me with those gunmetal-gray eyes. For a split second, the playfulness was gone, replaced by something dark and intensely serious.
"She didn't see a 'void' because of your control, Tsukia," he whispered, his lips nearly brushing my ear. "She saw a void because your power doesn't seem to belong to this generation. If I hadn't lied, she would've had you quarantined as a 'Level Five Disaster' before we even left the room."
He patted my cheek, the dimples returning. "You owe me, little disaster. And I'm a very patient debt collector."
Lori cleared his throat loudly, stepping between us and glaring at Nightshade's hand. "We have a dragon to hunt. Move it."