Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

Celeste’s POV

*****

The Blood Trials kicked off with a bang. Bloodoak’s students cheered and roared excitedly, as if they were in the pocket forest participating.

All around me, I heard different theories being thrown around on who would win, who would lose, and who could get the golden gauntlet first.

I won’t be surprised if people started staking bets—

"Girl, how much do you wanna bet that Melissa finds the gauntlet before anyone else?" Willow snapped her fingers in front of my face, forcing me to look at her. "Come on, I’m serious. This is a good way to take your mind off competing this evening."

Sigh. I spoke too soon.

"I wasn’t thinking about that until you so kindly mentioned it, Willow." I huffed, eyes flicking back to the holographic screen. "Besides, Melissa—"

"Willow makes a good point." A voice I didn’t expect in a thousand years spoke up behind us.

Nah—

There’s no way.

Turning around slowly, I mentally hoped I had heard that accent wrong and that my mind was playing tricks on me. But it wasn’t.

Lysandra.

Her, her minions and Luther were sitting behind Willow, and I. Lysandra had her head resting on Luther’s shoulder, while the latter looked like he was trying hard not to swallow a box of nails.

With a snap of her neck, Lysandra continued, ignoring my shock. "I’ve seen Melissa in action during Combat Theory and Mixed Combat lab. She’s a skilled hunter who is not only good at utilising sigils but is also great at archery and—"

"I’m sorry," Willow spoke up before I could, adjusting her sitting position to get a better look. Of Lysandra’s audacity, maybe. "I don’t remember Celeste casting a summoning spell with your name on it. Why the heck are you talking to us?"

The Australian princess gasped. She squeezed Luther’s arm, lifting her face off his shoulder.

"That’s assuming Celeste could cast one if she tried." Natasha sniggered before her queen bee could speak, eyes filled with scorn. "Really, Lysandra. You could’ve picked literally any other hybrid as your replacement."

My jaw tightened.

Subconsciously, I glanced at Luther. Looked him straight in his eyes.

Nothing.

He tried avoiding eye contact, throat bobbing as if his girl doll and her hyenas weren’t lashing his mate. While he was there.

Hmph. Scum will always be scum, I guess.

"If it hurt you so much, Natasha," I wore a sarcastic smile. "Why didn’t you get picked for the witch category? When was the last time you were recognised for anything in this academy other than being Lysandra’s most loyal lap dog?"

The scowl on the bitch’s face was laughable.

But I wasn’t finished.

"I know you sent that picture to Blood Eye last week, by the way." My tone became icy, eyes sweeping past all their faces. "And I know you didn’t pick me as your replacement out of the goodness of your heart."

At this point, I could notice a few people staring at us. My voice was getting pretty loud despite all the cheering and sounds of the trial coming from the floating screen.

"... You’re up to something." I went on, fists clenching. Lysandra’s stormy eyes glinted maliciously—yet she didn’t utter a word. "I don’t know or care what it is but trust me when I say I’m fucking done. If you or anyone else makes a move on me again, I’ll come at you with EVERYTHING."

Sparks sizzled down my arms, the wind picking up and blowing strands of my hair across my face. Lysandra noticed. And so did Natasha.

Both blinked with shock, suspicion and confusion, exchanging looks.

Then—

"Excuse me." Luther faked a cough, gently pushing Lysandra away from him. "I... Need to be somewhere."

His face was distant as he slipped away, getting on his feet.

Lysandra’s calm facade shattered instantly. "Somewhere? But where? Luther, the trials have barely begun. What—"

"Anywhere but here, Lysandra," He lifted a hand. "Away from you especially."

My jaw fell with disbelief.

I almost couldn’t believe my ears.

As Luther left, navigating through the crowd to get out of the audience section, I couldn’t help but follow his movement. The bond thrummed, sending his emotions to me in a way I’d never felt it like before.

"Luther?!" Lysandra yelled, face pale as she got up as well. "C–Come back here. Why would you...?"

Reluctantly, her puppets followed, leaving the seats behind me free. People nearby threw curious stares but eventually brought their attention back to the floating screen.

"Wow," Willow was the first to turn back to the holographic screen. "Did... Did Luther just—?"

"Yeah." My lips pressed into a thin line, eyes landing on the screen. "He actually did."

I had no idea what happened just now. But it seemed like Luther had a reaction to Lysandra’s bullying. For once.

And that made me feel—

"Anyway," Willow waved dismissively. "Back to the trials. Look." She pointed at the screen as the audience went silent all around the Crimson Expanse.

On the screen, Blood Oak’s Hunters were shown. Melissa moved nimbly, hiding in the bushes when necessary and coming out only to shoot down illusion Vein beasts.

As for the other hunter, he took the high ground, covering Melissa by using sigil attacks from trees and setting traps.

It all looked impressive.

Until the frame shifted to show us the White Flame hunters.

"What the..." Willow tapped my shoulder as if I wasn’t already seeing what was happening.

My breath hitched.

"Whoa!" A girl beside us exclaimed.

"How are they moving like that?"

"Are you seeing how he’s tearing through those beasts?"

White Flame’s Hunters moved like shadows, blending into the shades provided by the forest. All while drawing sigils on tree barks and leaving them behind.

"They don’t even seem focused on killing the beasts." Willow pointed out.

No. They didn’t.

I squinted, following their movements on the screen. "Those sigils..." I mumbled. "They’re heading straight for the kill. For the Golden gauntlet."

At that moment, my eyes flicked to the seats below us. A few of White Flame’s people sat there. Including Rebecca.

She had her attention glued on the screen at first—until she didn’t. Her face moved, eyes looking over her shoulder. Directly at me.

Chills ran down my spine when her lips curved into a smile. Not mocking or instigating. But knowing.

A murmur rippled through the crowd behind me just then.

I turned—and realised people weren’t watching the screen anymore.

They were watching me.