The training arena buzzed with restless energy, the air sharp with the scent of sweat and anticipation. Headmaster Thorn stood at the center, his voice slicing through the noise like a blade. “Combat trials begin now. Last recruit standing earns top rank—and the council’s attention.”

My stomach tightened. This wasn’t just a test of skill—it was a chance to prove *Aiden* belonged here.

“First match!” Thorn barked. “Aiden versus Garret.”

A broad-shouldered recruit with a permanent scowl stepped forward. Garret cracked his knuckles, smirking. “Don’t cry when I break your pretty face, *rookie*.”

I bit back a retort. *Stay calm. Stick to the plan.*

Thorn raised his hand. “Begin!”

Garret charged, swinging wildly. I ducked, letting his momentum carry him past me. He stumbled, growling. “Hold still, you little—”

I pivoted, sweeping his legs. He hit the dirt hard. Before he could rise, I pinned his arm behind his back, knee pressed to his spine.

“Yield,” I said, my voice low and steady.

“Never!” Garret snarled, thrashing.

I tightened my grip. “Yield. *Now*.”

He cursed but slapped the ground. The crowd erupted in murmurs.

Thorn’s gaze lingered on me. “Aiden advances.”

Jaxon scoffed from the sidelines. “Lucky first round.”

Finn sidled up to me, eyes wide. “That was *amazing*! How’d you move so fast?”

I shrugged, keeping my tone casual. “He was sloppy. Left himself open.”

---

The next rounds blurred. I fought three more recruits—quick, efficient victories. No flashy moves, no wasted energy. Just precision.

Then Thorn called: “Aiden versus Jaxon. Final match.”

The crowd roared. Jaxon swaggered into the arena, rolling his shoulders. “Ready to lose, *Aiden*?”

I said nothing. *He’s stronger, but he’s arrogant. Use that.*

“Begin!”

Jaxon lunged, fists flying. I dodged, but he feinted left and clipped my jaw. Pain exploded, blood blooming on my tongue.

“Still think you’re Alpha material?” he taunted.

I spat red. “Talk less. Fight more.”

He charged again. This time, I let him grab my arm—then twisted free, driving my elbow into his ribs. He grunted, stumbling back.

“Cheap trick,” he hissed.

“Strategy,” I corrected.

We circled. Sweat dripped down my neck under the binding. *Don’t let him corner you.*

Jaxon feigned a punch to my face—then swept low to tackle me. I leapt back, but his hand snagged my shirt. Fabric ripped.

Cold air brushed my collarbone. *The binding—*

I yanked free, heart hammering. Finn’s gasp cut through the noise. Jaxon frowned, eyes narrowing at my exposed chest.

*No. No no no—*

“What’s wrong, *Aiden*?” Jaxon sneered. “Scared of a little tear?”

I lunged before he could look closer. My fist connected with his nose. Cartilage crunched. He staggered, blood streaming.

“Yield,” I growled, voice raw.

He swung blindly. I caught his wrist, twisted, and slammed him to the ground.

“Yield!”

“Enough!” Thorn boomed. “Aiden wins.”

The crowd fell silent. Jaxon glared up at me, clutching his nose. “You’ll regret that.”

I stepped back, clutching my torn shirt. Finn rushed over, shrugging off his jacket. “Here—cover up.”

I nodded, throat tight. *Too close.*

---

Headmaster Thorn approached, his gaze piercing. “Impressive control. You fight like someone with something to prove.”

I stiffened. “Isn’t that why we’re here, sir?”

A flicker of a smile crossed his stern face. “Indeed. Report to my office tomorrow. Top rank has… privileges.”

As he walked away, Finn whispered, “He suspects something.”

“No,” I lied. “He respects skill. That’s all.”

But across the courtyard, a figure watched from the shadows—a man with ice-blue eyes and a cruel smile. Cyrus.

Finn followed my gaze. “Who’s that?”

“Trouble,” I muttered.

The man raised a mocking toast in my direction before melting into the crowd.

Finn paled. “Aiden—”

“Don’t.” I adjusted his jacket, hiding the binding. “Let’s go.”

As we left, Jaxon’s voice chased after me. “This isn’t over!”

*No,* I thought, touching my split lip. *It’s just beginning.*