CHAPTER FOUR– NAFAS

Aurora followed Dorian through the underground passage, her steps cautious against the cold, metal floor. The air here was different—thick with an unspoken tension. She could sense something waiting beyond the next turn, something powerful. Dorian had been unusually quiet, his gaze locked ahead as if afraid to meet hers.

Then, they entered the chamber.

She stood in the center, arms crossed over her chest, a smirk curving her lips like a blade. The glow of the overhead lights caught the sharp angles of her cheekbones, the gleam in her icy, unreadable eyes. Her hair, a striking shade of ember-red, framed her face in a short, precise bob. She was still, unnervingly so, until her voice cut through the silence.

“So this is her?”

Aurora felt herself bristle at the tone—sharp, almost dismissive. Dorian nodded. “This is Aurora. And Aurora—” he hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “This is Nyx.”

The name alone carried weight, a name spoken in whispers and legends. A name tied to war, to victory, to blood.

Nyx took a slow step forward, measuring Aurora with a look that felt more like a dissection than a greeting. “You don’t look like much,” she said bluntly, circling her like a predator sizing up prey. “Dorian seems to think you have potential. I don’t see it.”

Aurora clenched her fists, meeting Nyx’s gaze head-on. “Then maybe you’re not looking hard enough.”

A flicker of amusement flashed in Nyx’s eyes before it was buried beneath cold indifference. “We’ll see.”

Dorian exhaled, barely masking his relief. This was a start. A test, a challenge—but if Aurora could prove herself, then maybe, just maybe, she stood a chance of surviving what was to come.

Aurora held Nyx’s gaze, refusing to break first. There was an intensity in the woman’s stare, something far older than time itself. She wasn’t just testing Aurora—she was assessing her, looking for cracks, for weakness.

Nyx finally exhaled, rolling her shoulders. “You’ve got spirit. That’s something, at least.”

Dorian stepped forward, hands raised slightly in a silent plea for civility. “Nyx, I brought her here because she needs guidance. She needs to learn to fight—to survive.”

Nyx scoffed. “You mean you want me to waste my time on another lost soul.” Her eyes flicked back to Aurora. “Tell me, girl, why should I bother? What makes you worth my time?”

Aurora clenched her jaw. “Because I’m not here to waste it.”

Nyx arched an eyebrow, intrigued but unimpressed. “Big words.” She stepped closer, her presence overwhelming, the scent of metal and something ancient lingering in the air. “I don’t train those who hesitate. I don’t train the weak. And I sure as hell don’t train anyone who whines when things get hard.”

Aurora didn’t flinch. “Then it sounds like I’m exactly who you should be training.”

Dorian let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Nyx tilted her head, the smallest twitch of amusement betraying her icy exterior.

“Confidence. I like that,” she admitted, circling Aurora once more. “But confidence alone won’t save you when the real fight comes.”

Aurora squared her shoulders. “Then teach me.”

Nyx studied her for a long moment, then without warning, struck.

Her hand shot forward like lightning—Aurora barely had time to react. She twisted, stepping back just in time to dodge the blow aimed at her shoulder. But Nyx was faster. In a blur, she shifted, sweeping Aurora’s leg out from under her and sending her crashing to the floor.

Aurora groaned, staring up at the ceiling, dazed. Dorian took a step forward, but Nyx shot him a look that stopped him in his tracks.

“She’ll be fine,” Nyx said. Then she crouched beside Aurora, voice low. “Lesson one: never let your opponent make the first move.”

Aurora winced, pushing herself up onto her elbows. “Noted.”

Nyx smirked, rising to her feet. “Good. Now get up.”

Dorian shook his head, his expression torn between amusement and sympathy. “This is going to be a long night.”

Nyx cracked her knuckles. “Oh, we’re just getting started.”