Evie lay unconscious, her body cradled protectively in Sol's arms. Blood seeped through his fingers as he pressed against her wound, his usually composed demeanor shattered by a mix of panic and fury.

"Evie, stay with us," Sol's voice trembled, betraying the depth of his fear.

Seth's eyes blazed with a dangerous intensity, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "That bastard," he spat, glaring daggers at Alaric. "He'll pay for this."

Rowan's entire being radiated heat, the air around him shimmering as flames threatened to erupt from his skin. "How dare he," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "I'll burn him to ashes."

Duke's usually calm blue eyes were stormy, his jaw set in a hard line. "We need to get her help," he said, his voice strained, barely containing his rage. "Now."

The headmistress, sensing the volatile mix of emotions, stepped forward with authority. "Enough," she commanded, her tone brooking no argument. "Guards, seize Alaric and take him to the cells."

As the guards moved to apprehend Alaric, the princes' attention snapped back to Evie. Her breathing was shallow, her skin growing paler by the second.

"She's losing too much blood," Sol said urgently, his voice cracking. "We can't waste any more time."

Seth hovered close, his usual bravado replaced by palpable fear. "Evie, please," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Don't leave us."

Rowan's flames receded slightly as he focused on her, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. "We're here, Evie," he murmured, his eyes glistening. "We're not going anywhere."

Duke's hand tightened around hers, his thumb stroking her skin as if trying to anchor her to the world. "Stay with us, sweetheart," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion.

The headmistress's sharp gaze softened momentarily as she observed the scene. "We need to move her to the infirmary immediately," she instructed, her tone firm yet compassionate. "She needs medical attention."

Sol nodded, lifting Evie carefully. "Let's go," he said, his voice resolute despite the tears threatening to spill.

As they hurried towards the infirmary, the princes' emotions were a turbulent storm of protectiveness, fear, and unbridled anger. The thought of losing Evie was unbearable, and the desire for retribution against Alaric burned fiercely within them.

But for now, their priority was clear: ensuring Evie's survival. ____________________________ The infirmary was silent.

Too silent.

Evie lay on the pristine white cot, her chest barely rising and falling. The academy's best healers worked tirelessly over her, murmuring spells, glowing hands hovering over her wounds, sealing the broken skin inch by inch.

The princes stood outside the glass partition, watching. Waiting.

Rowan's arms were crossed over his chest, his jaw tight. His flames had dimmed, but the heat still radiated from him in waves, a warning to anyone who dared to come close.

Seth paced. Endlessly. Back and forth, his hands raking through his dark curls, his shoulders tense. Every so often, his eyes flickered toward Evie's unmoving form, and his jaw clenched tighter.

Duke sat in one of the stiff chairs, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. His usually relaxed posture was gone. He stared at the floor, but his mind was miles away, replaying the moment over and over. The way she had fought. The way she had fallen.

Sol was the only one standing closest to the glass, his fingers lightly tapping against the surface. His expression was unreadable, but his golden eyes were darker than usual, filled with something deeply unsettling.

None of them spoke.

Not until the headmistress entered.

"The worst of the damage is healed," she informed them. "But she's weak. Her body is still recovering from the sheer amount of magic she used."

Rowan exhaled slowly. "When will she wake up?"

The headmistress gave a tired sigh. "That depends on her."

The air grew heavy again.

Seth's pacing stopped. He turned, eyes dark. "She fought so damn hard." His voice was uncharacteristically soft, almost broken. "She shouldn't have had to go through that alone."

"She wasn't alone," Duke murmured. "We were watching."

"Watching," Seth repeated bitterly. "Not protecting."

Rowan's fists clenched. "We should've done more."

Sol's voice cut through the tension. "And we will." He turned to them, something unchangeable in his expression. "From now on, no more hesitation. No more waiting." His eyes drifted back to Evie. "She's ours to protect."

They all fell into agreement.

No one would touch Evie again. Not while they were still breathing. It was past midnight when she finally stirred. ______________________________ A small, pained whimper left her lips, barely audible. But it was enough.

Seth nearly fell out of his chair. "Evie?"

Her eyelashes fluttered, fingers twitching against the sheets. Her breaths were slow, labored, but—

She was waking up.

Duke was the first to reach her side. He grabbed her hand, squeezing it lightly. "Hey, sweetheart." His voice was soft, but the relief in it was palpable. "You scared the hell out of us."

Evie blinked up at him, her vision blurry. A dull ache spread through her body, her mind clouded with exhaustion. "I...?"

"Don't talk," Sol murmured gently, brushing her hair away from her face. "Just rest, love."

But the moment her mind cleared, memories of the trials slammed into her all at once.

The elemental rooms. The final challenge. Alaric.

Her breath hitched.

And then—panic.

Her chest tightened, air refusing to fill her lungs. Her fingers clutched at the blanket, heart pounding wildly. The room spun, blurry and suffocating, and her body refused to breathe properly.

The princes tensed immediately.

"Evie?" Seth's voice held a thread of concern. "Hey, you're okay. It's over."

She shook her head frantically. "No—no, are you okay?" Her voice was raw, her breaths erratic as she gasped. "Did he hurt you? Alaric—he—he tried to—"

Rowan's brows furrowed, stepping closer as realization dawned. "Evie, you're panicking—"

She gasped harder, eyes flickering between each of them, as if desperately searching for injuries.

"Did he—did he do something to you?" Her voice trembled, her breathing shallow and quick. "Tell me! Are you hurt?"

She tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in her ribs forced her back down with a whimper.

"Dammit," Seth muttered, quickly kneeling beside her. "Evie, we're fine. You're the one bleeding all over the damn place, and you're asking if we're hurt?"

Duke placed a firm hand on her shoulder, grounding her. "Deep breaths, sweetheart," he murmured, voice laced with calm authority. "You're safe. We're safe. Just breathe."

Evie clenched the blanket between trembling fingers, forcing herself to inhale slowly. Sol's hand gently traced soothing circles on her back, his touch warm, grounding.

It took several excruciating moments before her breathing steadied.

Her body slumped back against the pillows, exhaustion settling in. But the anxiety didn't fully leave her eyes.

"...Why?" she whispered. "Why did Alaric do that?"

Silence.

The princes exchanged dark glances.

Finally, Rowan spoke, voice edged with anger. "Because he thought you were dangerous."

Evie's stomach sank.

Duke sighed, running a hand through his hair. "He believed you were too powerful. That you'd end up hurting us and the kingdoms. So he tried to—" His jaw clenched. "He tried to eliminate you before that could happen."

Evie's fingers curled into fists. Too powerful. Too dangerous.

It didn't matter how much she had fought to prove herself. Someone had still seen her as a threat.

She looked down, biting her lip, shoulders trembling.

"Maybe he was right," she murmured.

The reaction was instantaneous.

"No." Rowan's voice was firm. Unyielding.

Duke's eyes darkened. "Don't you dare believe a word of that, sweetheart."

Seth let out an incredulous laugh. "Are you kidding me? After everything we've been through, you're gonna let some bitter old bastard get in your head?"

Sol gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at them. "Evie," he said softly, golden eyes burning with intensity. "You are not dangerous to us. You are a part of us."

She swallowed hard, throat thick with emotion.

Rowan crouched beside her bed, eyes searching hers. "You're ours. And there is no way in hell we're letting you go."

Evie's breath hitched.

"You belong to us," Seth muttered, resting a hand over hers. "And we belong to you."

Duke nodded, his grip on her tightening. "We don't care how powerful you are. We don't care what the prophecy says. You are not alone in this."

Sol pressed a kiss to her forehead, his voice barely a whisper. "We will stand by you. Always."

Evie's eyes burned as warmth bloomed in her chest.

They weren't afraid of her.

They weren't going to leave.

Her throat tightened as she squeezed their hands back, a small, shaky smile breaking through her exhaustion.

"Okay," she whispered. "I won't go anywhere either."

And in that moment, the princes knew.

She was theirs.

And nothing—not fate, not prophecy, not even the gods themselves—would ever change that.