Amara woke to the faint light of dawn spilling through the heavy drapes of her dormitory. She groaned, rolling over and burying her face in her pillow. Monday, the first day of classes. She had barely slept, her mind restless with thoughts of what this year might bring. Finally, she forced herself out of bed, her bare feet touching the cool hardwood floor.

  Her uniform for Aethermoor Academy hung neatly on the wardrobe door, a smooth long sleeve black dress that hit above the knees, knee high crisp white socks, black Mary Janes, and her Falcrest pin. She dressed quickly, pulling her long wavy black hair into a loose half up half down style. She paused briefly at the mirror, smoothing out a wrinkle in her dress, and sighed. “Here we go,” she muttered to herself.

  The next challenge was waking up Lyra. Amara crossed the room to her roommate’s bed and yanked the soft red knitted cover off with practiced efficiency. “Get up,” she said sharply, but Lyra only groaned, swatting blindly in Amara’s direction.

  “Just five more minutes,” Lyra mumbled, her voice muffled by her pillow.

  “Nope. You’ve said that every morning for the past 12 years, I know better.” Amara grabbed a pillow and smacked her friend squarely on the head.

  Lyra finally sat up, her golden braid already a mess. “Fine! I’m up,” she grumbled, rubbing her eyes. “Why are mornings so awful?”

  Amara smirked. “Because you make them that way.”

  Despite Lyra’s protests, they eventually made their way to the Elemental Hall, where breakfast was already in full swing. The hall was massive, with high, arched ceilings and enchanted windows that displayed a serene morning sky. Students clustered at long tables according to their Order, the air buzzing with energy as Ocearis students conjured small droplets to cool their drinks and Lunaris students sprouted tiny flowers from their table decorations.

  Amara and Lyra claimed their usual spot at the Falcrest table, where the warm glow of enchanted braziers kept the atmosphere cozy. Lyra piled her plate with fruit and pastries while Amara nibbled on toast, her appetite dulled by the ever-present anxiety that came with a new school year.

  “Lighten up,” Lyra said, watching her pick at her food. “You’re going to burn yourself out before we even start.”

  Amara shot her a look. “If you knew the kind of year I’m expecting, you’d be nervous too.”

  “Stop catastrophizing. It’s just school. What’s the worst that could happen?” Lyra grinned, but Amara couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that this year would be anything but normal.

  Amara Ashford had forgotten how much she hated Mondays at Aethermoor Academy.

  The halls buzzed with energy, elemental auras shimmering faintly around the returning students as they adjusted to their schedules. Noctis students hurried past with gusts of wind carrying their books. Amara dodged a group of Falcrest students laughing a little too loudly, her fingers curling into fists as an accidental spark hit her sleeve.

  “Watch it!” she snapped, glaring at the offenders. They muttered half-hearted apologies before disappearing down the corridor.

  “First day and already ready to murder someone?” Lyra teased, falling into step beside her. Lyra’s sun-bleached hair was swept into her trademark loose braid, her rosy aura flickering lazily like a garden of astilbe being swept in a light breeze. She glanced at Amara’s expression and winced. “Yikes. What’s got you looking so stormy?”

  “Just… everything,” Amara muttered, clutching her books tighter. “New year, same chaos. Let’s just get through it.”

  Lyra raised a brow but didn’t push, instead accompanying Amara to their first class: Arcanum Studies.

  The classroom was as imposing as ever, with rows of ancient tomes lining the walls and the faint hum of contained arcane power vibrating in the air. Professor Arabeth Nicholson, known for her sharp tongue and sharper wit, stood at the front of the room, her long emerald dress billowing dramatically.

  Amara’s stomach twisted as she scanned the seats for an empty spot. Most of the prime spaces were already taken, leaving her little choice but to settle near the back.

  That’s when she saw him.

  Theo Beaufort leaned lazily against his chair, dressed in the Aethermoor issued all black suit with not a wrinkle in sight, his Lunaris pin impeccably straight, his green eyes gleaming with mischief and his lips curved into a smirk that could rival a Cheshire cat.

  Amara froze, her pulse quickening in irritation. Of all the people she could have encountered in her first class of the year, it had to be him.

  “Amara,” Theo drawled, his voice low enough not to draw the professor’s attention but loud enough to make her skin crawl. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t show up. Thought maybe you’d transferred to a less competitive academy.”

  Her jaw tightened as she slid into the seat farthest from him, pretending he didn’t exist.

  Unfortunately, Professor Nicholson had other plans.

  “As some of you may know,” Nicholson began, her sharp gaze sweeping over the class, “this year’s focus is on preparing for the Arcane Relay. It’s the most prestigious event of our studies and an opportunity to showcase your mastery of the elements and teamwork.”

  Amara, overcome with the same anxiety as the night before. . The Arcane Relay was a year-long challenge involving duels, enchantments, and cooperative tasks, with the final task just a month before schools end. Teamwork wasn’t her strong suit, especially if Theo Beaufort was anywhere nearby. Amara liked to think of herself as “exceptionally gifted at being independently managed.”

  “To ensure maximum success,” Nicholson continued, “you’ll be paired with a partner for the entire year. These pairs have been carefully selected to complement your strengths and address your weaknesses.”

  Amara’s heart sank.

  “Please don’t let it be him,” she whispered under her breath.

  Professor Nicholson waved her hand, and the names of the pairs appeared in glowing letters on the board. Amara’s eyes darted to hers.

  Amara Ashford & Theo Beaufort

  She felt the blood drain from her face.

  “Oh, this is going to be fun,” Theo murmured from across the row, his smirk widening as he caught her eye.

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  Amara gritted her teeth, moving to the seat next to Beaufort, her mind racing. What cosmic force had cursed her with this fate? She barely heard the rest of Nicholson’s explanation, too focused on her rising indignation.

  The class dragged on, with Theo taking every opportunity to lean over and make quiet, antagonizing remarks.

  “Try not to set me on fire during the tasks, Ashford,” he whispered, his breath brushing her ear. “I know you’ve got a temper, but we’ll need teamwork for this.”

  Amara’s pen snapped under the pressure of her grip.

  “Careful,” he teased. “That’s your fourth pen. What will you write with if you keep breaking them?”

  “Would you shut up?” she hissed, her voice low but laced with venom.

  “Now, now,” he said with a mockingly gentle tone. “Is that any way to talk to your partner?”

  Amara’s fists clenched so tightly her knuckles turned white, her onyx hair crackling with crimson sparks. She was seconds away from a full-blown outburst when Professor Nicholson dismissed the class.

  Theo stood, stretching lazily, before flashing her another grin. “Meet me in the library after dinner. We’ll discuss our study plan.”

  She stared at him, incredulous. “Excuse me?”

  “I’ll be there at eight,” he continued, ignoring her protests. “Don’t be late, bookworm.”

  Without another word, he sauntered out, leaving Amara fuming in his wake. Amara infuriatingly put her books and broken pens in her bag, then made her way to Magical Beastology. The rest of the day carried on peacefully without Beauforts presence. Amara then raced to the Elemental Hall to meet Lyra for dinner.

  Amara spent most of dinner ranting to Lyra, her frustration bubbling over as she pushed her food around her plate.

  “He’s insufferable,” she said, stabbing a piece of roasted chicken with unnecessary force. “Who does he think he is, deciding when and where we meet without even asking me?”

  Lyra, clearly entertained, leaned her chin on her hand. “You’re really letting him get under your skin, huh? I don’t think I’ve seen you this worked up since Professor Grimward made you pair with that Noctis, Cassian Lennox who never showed up to practice.”

  “This is worse,” Amara snapped, her fork clattering against her plate. “At least that guy didn’t actively try to ruin my life!”

  Lyra laughed. “Come on, it’s not like Theo’s plotting your downfall. He probably just thinks it’s funny.”

  Amara scowled. “Oh, he thinks everything’s funny. The smug comments, the smirks, the way he called me a—what was it? Bookworm? Ugh!” She picked up her goblet of water and took a long sip, as if that could wash away her irritation.

  “Well, you are a bookworm,” Lyra teased, grinning. “I mean, you spend half your life in the library. He’s not wrong.”

  “That’s not the point,” Amara huffed. “It’s the way he says it, like it’s some kind of insult. And then he just assumes I’ll drop everything to meet him on his terms? I’m not going.”

  Lyra raised an eyebrow. “You’re not?”

  “No.”

  “Really?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  Lyra leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “So you’re just going to let him think you’re afraid of him? Or worse, that you’re not serious about the relay?”

  Amara froze, her fork halfway to her mouth. “I’m not afraid of him.”

  “Then go. Prove it. Besides,” Lyra added with a sly smile, “this could be your chance to outsmart him. You’re a better strategist than he is, right?”

  Amara hesitated, hating that Lyra was right. “I don’t want to give him the satisfaction,” she muttered.

  “Or,” Lyra said with exaggerated patience, “you could think of it as giving yourself the satisfaction of showing him he doesn’t intimidate you. Isn’t that what you really want?”

  Amara sighed, poking at her food. “I still hate him.”

  Lyra grinned. “Good. That means this partnership will be very entertaining for me.”

  Amara glared at her friend but couldn’t stop a reluctant smile from tugging at her lips. “You’re the worst.”

  “I know.”

  The halls of Aethermoor Academy were quiet as Amara made her way from the Elemental Hall toward the library. Dinner had ended not long ago, and the remnants of student chatter still echoed faintly in the stone corridors. The grand, arched ceilings and flickering lanterns cast elongated shadows across the polished marble floors, the faint hum of residual magic in the walls adding to the ever present sense of enchantment within the academy.

  Amara’s footsteps were brisk, her cloak swishing behind her as she clutched her notebook tightly. She hadn’t eaten much at dinner, her irritation had stolen her appetite, but Lyra’s teasing words still echoed in her mind.

  “You don’t want him to think you’re afraid, do you?”

  I’m not afraid, she told herself firmly. I’m annoyed. There’s a difference.

  Despite her determination, Amara couldn’t help but dwell on the absurdity of the situation. Being paired with Theo Beaufort, of all people, felt like some cruel cosmic joke. The universe had a twisted sense of humor.

  As she passed the staircase that spiraled up to Professor Nicholson’s classroom, her thoughts drifted back to their earlier exchange in Arcanum Studies. His smirk, his unrelenting quips, the way he seemed to enjoy provoking her.

  Why does he always have to make everything a game? she thought, her grip tightening on her notebook. And why do I let him get under my skin?

  The hall leading to the library stretched ahead, lined with portraits of legendary mages of all Orders whose eyes seemed to follow her as she walked, though she knew better. She glanced at a particularly stern-looking wizard, as if he might offer some sage advice.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she muttered under her breath. “I’m going, aren’t I?”

  The library’s towering double doors came into view, their carved runes glowing faintly with enchantment. Amara squared her shoulders and pushed one open, stepping into the familiar warmth of the space. Rows of shelves stretched endlessly, filled with books that radiated magic and history.

  And there he was.

  Theo was seated at a central table, no longer in his suit, but in a black button up shirt and white dress pants. He was leaning back in his chair as if he owned the place. His legs were casually crossed, and his wavy brown hair fell perfectly into place, as always. A book of arcanic runes lay open in front of him, but his green eyes were fixed on her the moment she entered.

  “I knew you wouldn’t pass up a chance to meet in the library, you little bookworm,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips.

  Amara glared at him as she approached, her footsteps echoing on the hardwood floor. “Do you have to call me that?”

  “Yes,” he said simply, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “It suits you.”

  “Whatever,” she muttered, dropping her bag onto the table with a thud. “Let’s just get this over with.”

  Theo chuckled. “You’re always so eager to get to the point. I thought you’d at least warm up to me after all these years.”

  Amara shot him a glare as she pulled out her notes. “I’ve known you for 13 years, and my opinion of you hasn’t changed. If anything, it’s gotten worse.”

  “Then I’ll have to work harder to charm you,” he said, his grin widening.

  “Don’t bother Beaufort.”

  Theo let out a dramatic sigh. “You wound me, Ashford. Truly.” He gestured to the blank scroll in front of him. “So, partner, how do we plan to crush the competition this year?”

  Amara ignored his theatrics and unrolled her scroll. “First, we need to strategize for the tasks. The first one is all about synergy. If you mess up, your earth magic could destabilize my fire, and we’ll lose control of the spell.”

  He leaned closer, his green eyes gleaming with mischief. “Mess up? Me? Perish the thought.”

  “I’m serious, Theo,” she snapped. “This isn’t a joke. If you can’t stay focused—”

  “I’ll be focused,” he interrupted, his voice softening just enough to catch her off guard. “I know how important this is, Amara. You don’t have to babysit me, I'm well aware of the risk - reward system here.”

  Amara blinked, surprised by his sudden sincerity. “Well… good. Because I don’t have time to deal with your usual antics.”

  Theo’s smirk returned. “Oh, don’t worry. My antics will be fully under control. Most of the time, maybe.”

  She groaned. “Why do I even bother?”

  “Because deep down, you know we’re going to make a great team, even with as much as we hate each other” he said with infuriating confidence. “And because you secretly love working with me, even cosnidering our familial issues.”

  Amara snorted. “I’d rather work with a troll.”

  “Unfortunately for you, trolls aren’t as charming.”

  She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the scroll. “For the second task, we’ll need a strategy for the forest challenge. Your earth magic can help us map out the path ahead, and I can handle any fire-based traps or obstacles.”

  “Good plan,” Theo said, mockingly. “But what about the teamwork trial? You’re not exactly known for… sharing the spotlight bookworm.”

  “Neither are you,” she shot back with infuriating rage at the nickname mentioned, hair starting to crackle once again.

  He grinned. “True. But I’ll be generous and let you take the lead. As long as you admit I’m the better performer, and always have been. Don't you remember your disaster in Elixirology in level 8?”

  Amara crossed her arms, glaring at him. “If you’re done inflating your ego, can we get back to the actual planning?”

  Theo laughed, leaning back in his chair. “You’re too easy, Ashford. This is going to be an extremely interesting year” he said with his usual egotistical charm.