Chapter 8 #3
I started stretching beside him. “Clive landed a couple of good hits. And classes were… intense. As usual.” I bent forward to touch my toes, my calves still tight from earlier sparring.
“Clive fought you?” He raised a brow. “I’ve seen him struggle to fight women.”
“Well,” I said, reaching one arm across my chest and twisting to stretch my back, “Aiden threatened him.”
Alaric laughed, nodding. “Yeah. That tracks.”
He finished stretching and rolled his shoulders. “So, how’s Trifecta training going? Any progress?”
I squared off with him, settling into a ready stance.
“The first three tiers are manageable. I know they’ll be worse on the actual day, but I can handle them.
It’s the fourth tier that’s giving me hell.
” He didn’t hesitate, charged forward in one smooth motion.
I blocked his strike with my forearm and pivoted out of range.
“That’s what Aiden mentioned,” he stated calmly, even as he swept low. “He said he gave you advice?”
I scoffed, ducking and spinning around him. “Advice? More like told me I was going to die if I didn’t use my head.” I barely avoided his next move. “Problem is, I don’t know how to use my head when it comes to a damn incline.”
“Well,” Alaric said, aiming for my ribs, I blocked at the last second, “out of the three of us, you were always the one who thought outside the box. Maybe you just need a little boost.”
“A little boost?” I shot back. “Where the hell am I supposed to get one of those, Al?”
He flashed me a cheeky grin. “Not sure. You’re the creative one.
” I laughed despite myself. We kept sparring, picking up speed, sweat slicking our skin as the rhythm sharpened into something instinctual.
Every clash of blades, every dodge and pivot, pulled me further from doubt and deeper into focus.
We moved as if we’d been training together for years, which, technically, we had.
And even when I lost, I didn’t feel weaker for it.
I felt closer to an answer. By the end, I had Alaric on his back, my legs straddling his hips, my blade pressed lightly against his neck.
We were both breathing hard, chests rising and falling in tandem.
“Not bad, Ryn,” he commented with a grin, his voice warm and low. His hands were at my waist, steadying me, and my heart stuttered at the contact. I sheathed the dagger quickly, trying to ignore the flutter in my chest.
“Thanks,” I murmured. “You know… I’ve got a good teacher.” He let out a deep, rumbling laugh that seemed to settle right into my bones.
“Well, I do try.” His grip tightened slightly, almost unconsciously, and for a moment neither of us moved. The space between us crackled, not quite romantic, not quite innocent. Then he cleared his throat.
I snapped out of it, quickly climbing off him and stepping aside. “Sorry,” I mumbled, brushing a hand through my hair as I put some distance between us.
“No problem,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze flicking away. “Anyway… probably time to call it.”
“Yeah,” I agreed softly. “Probably.” And then I turned and strode off, my heart hammering in my chest, my cheeks flushed with something I couldn’t name.
It was now two days before the Trifecta, and my nerves were already fraying.
My steps felt heavier as I walked into Strategic Decision class, my thoughts racing ahead to the fourth-tier obstacle I still couldn’t conquer.
Professor Wicken entered a moment later, her usual cheery energy trailing behind her.
Her blonde hair was pulled into a high ponytail, sharp and precise in contrast to everything else about her.
The style accented her heart-shaped face and gave her an air of strict elegance.
“Good morning, class,” she greeted as she set her leather bag down and grabbed her ever-present pointer stick.
We had spent the past few weeks analyzing the Northern Encampment, its placement, strengths, and known weaknesses.
But not once had she mentioned the eastern line.
Not in four weeks. I raised my hand before I could overthink it.
“Yes, cadet Yarrows?” she asked, smiling pleasantly.
“What happens if the protection spells or wards start to fail?” The room stilled. A few heads turned toward me.
Professor Wicken blinked. “They aren’t failing, Yarrows. The wards are holding just fine.” She replied to it too quickly. Too rehearsed. My gut twisted.
“I know that” I commented, keeping my tone even. “But what if they do fail? Especially at the Eastern encampment?” Gia nudged me lightly under the table, her brows furrowed, but I kept my focus on Wicken.
The professor’s smile tightened. “What exactly are you implying, Yarrows?”
I met her gaze squarely. “The Eastern Encampment is the only real barrier between us and the Blood Assassins. If those wards break, we don’t just lose a position, we lose our entire front. That changes everything. Rapidly.” There was a beat of silence. A few cadets exchanged uneasy glances.
Wicken’s posture stiffened. “That’s not something we need to concern ourselves with, because the wards are not failing.
” Her tone was final. Cold. I had never heard her speak like that before.
She tapped her pointer stick sharply on the map behind her.
“Now, let’s move on.” But I wasn’t convinced.
Whether she was lying, masking a truth, or simply in denial, I wasn’t sure.
But either way, I was going to find out what was really going on.
After class, I walked out beside Ryan, Gia, and Luna.
The hallway was getting crowded and, for once, the heaviness of the academy seemed a little lighter.
“Hey,” I said quietly, lowering my voice so other cadets wouldn’t overhear, “you guys want to sneak out later? Maybe practice sparring… prep for the Trifecta?”
“I’m in,” Ryan replied instantly, his grin wide and boyish. Of course he was.
Luna rolled her eyes. “Naturally. You live to break rules.” But there was a grin tugging at her lips as she added, “I’m in, too.”
“Sounds fun,” Gia said with a small smile as Sofia tapped my shoulder.
“Can I join?” she asked hopefully. Clive hovered just behind her, clearly waiting for an invitation, too.
“Sure, the more the merrier,” I replied, smiling.
That night, under the crescent moon and the glittering stars, we snuck across the courtyard to the training field.
The place looked eerie in the dark shadows clinging to the empty racks of weapons, the sparring dummies looming like silent sentries.
“Well, this isn’t creepy at all,” Luna muttered, arms crossed.
I summoned mage light in my palm, the soft blue glow spilling over the field. “Yeah, just a little,” I admitted.
Ryan slung an arm across both our shoulders, smirking. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” Luna promptly drove her fist into his gut. Ryan doubled over with a grunt, glaring at her through narrowed eyes.
“Oh yeah? Protect me? How about I protect myself, windbag?” She quipped, already raising her fists.
“You want to fight?” Ryan shot back, straightening.
“Come on then, cadet Grass. Show me what you’ve got.
” They squared off, bickering even as they sparred.
I laughed under my breath and paired Clive with Sofia, while Gia and I began our own practice.
It seemed strange, sparring out here without unit leaders breathing down our necks. Strange, but good.
Free.
By the time we stopped, Ryan and Luna were sprawled in the grass, both panting and sweaty but grinning like maniacs. I gathered everyone up.
“Want to play a game?” I asked, still catching my breath.
“What do you have in mind?” Ryan questioned, chest heaving.
But before I could answer, “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doing out here?” I jumped at the sharp voice. All of us turned. Ivy, the Hera unit leader.
“Just practicing,” Ryan replied, smirking as if he didn’t care. “What are you doing out here?” Her short purple hair moved slightly in the night wind and her thunder grey eyes cut straight through him like blades.
“Give me twenty laps.”
Ryan didn’t budge. “No way. You’re not my unit leader.”
The air turned cold. Ivy took a step toward him. “What did you just say?”
I stepped in before she could reach him. “Look, we were only practicing. We’ll head back to our dorms.”
Her gaze landed on me, and something in the way her eyes lingered made my stomach knot. “You’re not allowed out here. So, either all of you get punished… or one of you runs twenty laps.”
I sighed. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
“Good,” she said with a wicked smile. “Better get to it, Yarrows.”
“No, we’ll all do it,” Sofia stated firmly, touching my arm. I turned to her, surprised, and she gave me a small smirk. “We all came out here together.” The others nodded in agreement.
“Fine. Whatever,” Ivy snapped. “Twenty laps. Now.”
Ryan groaned but didn’t argue. I nudged Sofia’s shoulder. “Thanks.”
She smiled. “No problem. Unit members stick together.”
I grinned back, breath already heavy as our feet pounded the field. “Yeah,” I whispered more to myself than her. We do. Because without them, without my friends, I wasn’t sure I’d survive this place.