Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

Celeste’s POV

*****

The following ten to twenty minutes were a hard watch.

For every other student of Blood Oak Academy and me.

White Flame proved they weren’t here to play, owning the pocket dimension as if they’ve done this a thousand times already. It just didn’t make sense to me.

Yet at the same time... It did.

Every maneuver. Every close encounter with the representatives from our school. Every illusion Vein beast taken down—it all piled more anxiety amongst us.

"Which side was I betting on again?" Willow whispered to me, expression nervous.

I glared at her, prompting her to raise her arms in defeat. "I’m just saying. Just... Look at what’s happening right now."

And I did. Oh, gods, I did.

While our hunters struggled against the illusion Vein beasts, White Flame’s side seemed to have it easier. Maybe too easy.

Their hunters—both male—cleared any illusion Vein beast unfortunate enough to get close to them. Not only that, but they kept on pausing once in a while, drawing sigils into tree barks.

Something was building up. I didn’t need to be in there to sense it.

"It seems like White Flame Academy is gaining the advantage here," Professor Amelia spoke into her mic for the first time since the trial kicked off, her tone mostly neutral. "Although, one can’t help but question what strategy they’re using. And how they hope to find the golden gauntlet if they keep sweeping through the forest with barely any pause."

I didn’t know about anyone else but that was the same question I had. And from how it’s played out so far, something told me those sigils on the tree barks—

—Were a clear clue.

"You don’t happen to know anything about Hunter sigils, do you?" I mumbled, tapping Willow’s arm.

She flinched. "Wasn’t your grandfather a Hunter?"

"My mom’s father, yeah. Same man who died ages before I was born."

Gods, I felt so left out.

There was definitely something up with the sigils White Flame’s Hunters used. They seemed special. Unique.

Fortunately—or not—it didn’t take long to find out what exactly those sigils were for.

Before everyone watching, just when it seemed like the illusion Vein beasts White Flame’s Hunters avoided were coming for them—there was a shift. The leaves stilled. Air ceased moving.

The entire pocket forest seemed like it held its breath.

Then—

All the sigils they carved simultaneously lit up with a golden white light. The frame shifted to Blood Oak’s students, showing how blinded they were by the sudden light show.

As for the illusion Vein beasts, they screeched so loud that a familiar fear shot through my blood. The same fear I’ve felt when I was hunted by actual Vein beasts.

Within seconds, the pocket forest changed rapidly. Almost like magic—except it was erratic. Trees shifted positions, moving through the forest like chess pieces. Foliage opened and closed in on itself. Shadows spread wider as the terrain changed.

"That..." Even Professor Amelia couldn’t say something coherent at the High Table.

I noticed Dean Thorne shift in his seat with unease. While Luna Queen Janelle sat still, hands clasped in front of her face, eyes glued on the screen.

Same thing her daughter did in the audience section.

Rebecca neither cheered nor flinched, keeping all her focus on the hunters.

She didn’t move even when the forest finished rearranging itself.

On the floating screen, White Flame’s Hunters finally sprang into motion.

The terrain they’d forced into existence worked in their favour immediately. Where Bloodoak’s Hunters stumbled—tripping over newly formed roots and getting boxed in by illusion beasts—White Flame moved like they’d memorised the outcome beforehand.

One of them raised a hand.

The sigils flared again.

Not outward this time, but inward—collapsing into a single point deeper in the forest.

"There," I breathed.

Willow leaned forward. "No way..."

The illusion Vein beasts began to dissolve, their forms unravelling into shimmering fragments of light. The forest dimmed, shadows retreating as if intimidated by whatever force had just been activated.

And then it appeared.

The Golden Gauntlet.

Suspended between two warped tree trunks, glowing softly, untouched by the chaos.

Bloodoak’s Hunters were too far, too disoriented and too late.

White Flame didn’t hesitate.

One of their Hunters lunged forward, boots barely touching the ground as he snatched the gauntlet mid-air.

The moment his fingers closed around it, the screen went white.

Gasps exploded across the Crimson Expanse.

The portal above the field ripped open again—and in a burst of compressed air and light, all four Hunters reappeared on the sand.

Bloodoak’s representatives landed hard, dishevelled and breathless. White Flame’s landed on their feet. Mostly unbothered.

Professor Amelia recovered first, standing quickly. "And... that concludes the Hunter Trials."

There was a pause.

Then, she spoke louder, "Victory to White Flame Academy!"

Cheers erupted—some stunned, some impressed, some painfully forced.

I sat frozen.

Thirty minutes. That’s all it took.

Bloodoak hadn’t just lost. They’d been outplayed.

Professor Amelia cleared her throat, visibly regaining her composure. "We will be taking a short thirty-minute recess before the Witch Trials begin. Competitors, please remain prepared."

Students stood, voices buzzing with shock and speculation. Some clapped half-heartedly. Others stared at the Hunters as if they’d just witnessed a massacre disguised as a game.

I barely heard any of it.

My attention drifted elsewhere—far across the audience.

To Silas still sitting beside Azrael.

They were leaning toward each other, heads bowed slightly, speaking in hushed tones. Azrael’s posture was relaxed, unreadable behind his sunglasses. Silas nodded once, jaw tight.

Something about the sight made my chest ache with uncertainty.

"That was brutal," Willow muttered. "Like... academically brutal."

Before I could respond, a shadow fell over us, making me look up.

And there stood Rebecca Whiteflame.

Her silver hair caught the light like it was threaded with frost, eyes bright and sharp but not cruel. She didn’t smile—but she didn’t sneer either.

"Relax," she said calmly, glancing between Willow and me. "I’m not here to start anything."

Willow stiffened. "Could’ve fooled me."

Rebecca huffed a soft breath. "I get that a lot."

Her gaze returned to me, more focused now. "You’re Celeste Bloodoak."

I nodded cautiously.

"Good," she said. "I wanted to meet you properly."

I raised a brow. "After your Hunters wiped the floor with us?"

"That wasn’t personal," she replied easily. "It’s just... love of the game."

She glanced toward the field, then back at me. "Our mothers fought together during the century-long war. Yours and mine. I doubt you know much about it—but I do."

My stomach flipped.

"I’m telling you this because I’m not your enemy," Rebecca continued. "But I’d be doing you a disservice if I didn’t warn you."

I swallowed. "Warn me about what?"

Her voice lowered just enough to send a chill down my spine.

"The Hybrid Trial," she said. "Word is, it’ll involve a mass spell this year. One designed to destabilise both sides of a hybrid at once."

Everything inside me tightened at once.

Rebecca straightened. "Prepare yourself, Celeste. This year’s Trials aren’t just about winning." She met my eyes one last time. "They’re about surviving who you are."

Then she turned and walked away, leaving me staring after her as the weight of her words settled deep in my bones.

The Blood Trials had only just begun.

And somehow, I already felt like I was standing at the edge of something far more dangerous than a competition.