The summons came at dawn.
Not from the council.
Not from the Headmistress.
From Nyx.
Lyra felt it before she read it—the sharp tug in the air, like a hook brushing the edge of her magic. A folded parchment lay on her windowsill, black wax sealed with a violet sigil that made her wolf snarl.
Kael was already awake when she picked it up.
"No," he said immediately.
Lyra looked at him. "You haven't even read it."
"I don't need to," he replied, jaw tight. "Whatever she's planning, it involves separating us."
Lyra broke the seal.
Come alone if you want him safe.
—Nyx
Her breath hitched.
Kael took the parchment from her hand and crushed it. "She's bluffing."
"I don't think so," Lyra whispered. "Not this time."
The bond between them pulsed—agitated, strained. Not breaking. Provoked.
"She wants to force a claim," Kael said quietly. "An ancient one."
Lyra nodded. "Using unclaimed witnesses."
Kael's eyes darkened. "That's forbidden."
"So is everything Nyx does," Lyra replied softly.
She reached for him, fingers curling into his shirt. "If she succeeds, she won't take you because you love her. She'll try to overwrite choice itself."
Kael cupped her face. "Then we don't let her."
The place Nyx chose was deliberate.
The Hollow Ring—an abandoned dueling arena carved into the earth beyond the academy wards. Old magic clung to the stones, hungry and reactive. It was where unclaimed students once trained, back when bonds were rare and competition ruthless.
Now, it was filled again.
Dozens of unclaimed stood in a wide circle, faces tight with emotion—envy, longing, resentment, hope. At the center stood Nyx, robed in black and violet, power coiled around her like a crown.
And beside her—
Kael.
Restrained, but not broken. His eyes found Lyra the instant she stepped into the arena.
"Lyra!" he called.
She ran to him, but an invisible barrier flared between them, stopping her cold.
Nyx turned, smiling serenely. "You came."
Lyra's voice shook with fury. "Let him go."
Nyx tilted her head. "I will. After the claiming."
Kael strained against the magic binding him. "This isn't how bonds work!"
"No," Nyx agreed calmly. "This is how ownership works."
The unclaimed murmured.
Nyx raised her hands. "All of you here know what it means to be overlooked. To be told fate has nothing for you." Her gaze swept the circle. "I offer an alternative."
She gestured toward Kael. "A bond forged by power. Witnessed by many. Anchored by blood."
Lyra's heart slammed painfully. "You're using them."
Nyx's eyes flicked to her. "I'm giving them hope."
"No," Lyra said, stepping forward. "You're feeding their pain."
Nyx sighed. "You could stop this, you know."
Lyra froze. "How?"
Nyx's smile sharpened. "Release him."
The arena went silent.
"Break your bond," Nyx continued softly. "Voluntarily. An anchor can do that."
Kael shouted, "Lyra, don't—!"
Tears burned Lyra's eyes. "You said love can't be stolen."
Nyx's voice dropped. "Then prove it can be sacrificed."
Something in Lyra snapped—not violently, but decisively.
She straightened.
"No."
The word echoed.
Nyx's calm finally fractured. "Then watch."
She slammed her staff into the ground.
The unclaimed surged forward.
Not toward Lyra.
Toward Kael.
Lyra screamed his name.
The moment the first unclaimed crossed the inner ring, Lyra's magic exploded outward—not as a blast, but as a wave of pressure so intense it forced everyone to halt mid-step.
"Stop!" Lyra cried.
Threads of light erupted from her chest, anchoring into the ground, the walls, the air itself. Bonds—visible and invisible—flared across the arena.
The unclaimed clutched their heads, dropping to their knees.
Kael gasped as the restraints around him cracked.
Nyx staggered back, eyes wide. "You're anchoring all of them?"
Lyra's voice broke as she turned in a slow circle. "I can feel you. All of you. The ache. The loneliness."
One boy sobbed openly. "Make it stop."
"I can't erase it," Lyra whispered. "But I won't let it turn into cruelty."
Nyx screamed, furious now. "Take him!"
She hurled raw magic at Lyra.
Kael broke free.
He caught the spell mid-air—redirecting it, shielding Lyra with his own power. The impact threw him backward.
"Kael!" Lyra screamed.
She ran to him, dropping to her knees as he struggled to breathe.
Nyx advanced, rage blazing. "You see? You weaken him."
Lyra shook her head, tears streaming. "No. You do."
She placed both hands over Kael's heart.
The bond flared—not wild, not unstable.
Unbreakable.
Kael's breathing steadied. His eyes opened.
He looked at Lyra and smiled faintly. "Still choosing you."
She laughed through tears. "Always."
The unclaimed watched in stunned silence.
Nyx raised her staff again, shaking. "This isn't over!"
Lyra stood slowly, turning to face her.
"No," Lyra said calmly. "It is."
She didn't attack.
She anchored.
The Hollow Ring responded—ancient magic recognizing its heir. The claiming circle inverted, collapsing inward, stripping Nyx's ritual of power.
Nyx screamed as the magic recoiled.
"You don't get to claim what chooses freely," Lyra said, voice echoing with something older than the academy. "Not him. Not anyone."
The unclaimed fell back, stunned—not punished, but released.
Nyx dropped to one knee, breathing hard, eyes burning with disbelief.
"You could have ruled," she spat.
Lyra walked to Kael's side and took his hand.
"I chose love."
The arena went still.
Nyx vanished in a swirl of shadow—retreating, not defeated, but wounded.
As dawn broke over the Hollow Ring, Kael pulled Lyra into his arms, holding her like the world might steal her if he didn't.
"You saved me," he whispered.
Lyra pressed her forehead to his. "You were never hers to take."
Around them, the unclaimed slowly stood—changed. Not bonded. Not healed.
But no longer weaponized.
And far beneath Romance Academy, the ancient magic settled again.
Not in fear.
But in trust.