Damian stilled, golden eyes narrowing as Gabriel crossed the circle's edge. "You're not supposed to—"
Gabriel shrugged off his coat in one fluid motion, the fabric whispering as it hit the edge of the ring wall and slipped down. His ring caught the light—imperial gold edged with the Von Jaunez crest—and for a second, the air between them crackled, faint and warm, like the calm before a storm that already knew its name.
"Well," Gabriel said, voice smooth, "Marin did say it's fine if the spells are lower level. And from what I see, either you can control those just fine… or Max should really train better."
"Hey," Max snapped from behind them, breath still uneven. "I'm bleeding, not deaf."
Gabriel didn't glance back. "Then be quiet and take notes."
His attention returned to Damian, eyes sharp, unreadable. "I want to see your control over the finer details."
Damian didn't move for a moment. "You think you can push me in the middle of combat?"
