Chapter Eight
Elora's POV
He knew my name? Then I guessed he was the one who had helped me yesterday. Oh, shit.
I wanted to disappear right there. Everything about this moment was embarrassing as hell. My body went stiff, and I could already feel people staring.
"Stop distracting us and join the last group over there," he instructed sharply, his tone slicing through my thoughts.
My heart jumped, and before I knew it, my legs moved on their own. I hurried toward the last group, where nine other students were already standing. That made us ten.
Yeah, I said it. Ten.
"Why are you coming this late to my class? You can't just walk in this way and distract everyone. Do you know I have every right to punish you right now?" His voice carried so much authority that I froze.
Almost every head in the room turned toward me.
Oh my God. I had always hated this kind of attention. This was exactly what I'd been trying to avoid, yet here I was — practically the center of it.
I walked forward slowly, stopping beside the rest of the group. My eyes stayed low, but curiosity burned in me. I couldn't tell if he was really the one who had rescued me yesterday. If he was, why was he acting like this? Why treat me like a stranger after what happened?
"I've heard about you already," he said, and my heart skipped. "It turns out you came to this school very late. Irrespective of your status, do you know what will happen to you if you fail the competition in the next few weeks?"
His words hit me harder than I expected. Confusion crept in — competition? What competition?
Oh.
"I'm sorry," I said quickly, though it wasn't exactly sincere. It just felt like the safest way to stop him from saying more.
He dismissed me with a slight nod, and I hurried back to my place, trying to ignore the stares still following me.
"I'm not going to force anyone to learn basic things like that," he continued, walking in between the groups like a predator watching his prey. "Most of us here are quite skilled already, and moving to the second rank shouldn't be a big deal."
Thirty students. Three groups. And me — the awkward latecomer trying not to look clueless.
"Now, repeat everything you learned today. In groups. Pick a stance — either your opponent attacks or defends." His voice carried power and precision, echoing through the room.
"Yes, sir," the students responded in unison.
My heart started beating faster. There was no way this was going to end well for me.
The guy standing next to me turned slightly, a wooden sword spinning easily between his fingers.
"You won't be using wooden swords on the day of the competition. This is just for practice," the professor said, still pacing.
I didn't even know what competition he was talking about. I needed someone — anyone — to explain what was going on.
"Aren't you going to pick up your sword?" the guy beside me asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I sighed and walked toward the rack, grabbing one of the swords. It felt heavier than I expected.
"I'm Liam," he said casually, taking his stance like he'd done this a hundred times before.
"Good to know," I muttered, copying him awkwardly. "Now let's just get this over with."
I swear, I had no idea what I was doing, but I wasn't about to admit that out loud.
"Start," the professor ordered, and my stomach instantly knotted as Liam lunged forward.
Liam moved first, swinging his sword toward me with confident precision. I raised mine to block it, but the impact made my hands sting. The sword slipped, and I almost lost my balance.
"Not bad for a beginner," Liam teased, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "Try not to fall so fast next time."
I exhaled sharply, tightening my grip. "You are enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Of course. It is not every day I get to spar with the mysterious latecomer everyone has been talking about."
"Everyone?" My voice wavered slightly as I raised my sword again.
"Yeah. Word spreads fast around here. The human girl who got accepted last minute. The one who—"
"Stop talking and fight," I snapped, swinging at him before he could finish.
He ducked easily, laughter escaping him as my sword sliced through air. His counterstrike sent me stumbling backward again. My knees almost hit the ground.
The other students were already drawing attention to our side of the group. I could feel their eyes on me. Heat flushed up my face.
"Focus, Elora," Liam said mockingly. "Your grip is too loose. You are supposed to be defending, not dancing."
"I am trying!"
"Then try harder."
He came at me again, this time faster. I swung up to block him, but the force pushed me off balance completely. I hit the ground with a light thud, the sword rolling away from my hand.
A few students chuckled under their breath. My embarrassment deepened.
Liam extended his hand, clearly amused. "You fight like you are allergic to winning."
I ignored his hand, pushing myself up. "I was not ready."
"You said that the last two times."
I glared at him. "You talk too much."
"And you fall too easily." He smirked, clearly enjoying every bit of my frustration.
"Enough," the professor's deep voice cut through the noise. The room instantly fell silent. Even Liam straightened, trying to mask the grin still threatening to appear on his face.
Professor Daren's eyes swept over the students slowly, observing the uneven rhythm of breathing and the awkward stances.
"Dismissed," he finally said. "Class is over for today."
The relief that washed over me was short-lived because I noticed he was still staring in my direction.
Students began leaving in pairs and groups, murmuring softly to one another. Liam gave me a playful bow before walking away. "See you tomorrow, Elora the Brave."
I rolled my eyes, muttering a curse under my breath.
Soon, it was only me and the professor left in the room.
He did not move at first. He just stood there near the rack of swords, his posture calm but powerful, his gaze fixed on me like he could read every thought running through my mind.
I swallowed hard. My pulse quickened.
Why was he looking at me that way?
"You will be receiving special training from me starting tomorrow," he said finally, his voice deep and steady.
I blinked, unsure if I heard him right. "Special training? With you?"
"Yes." He walked toward me slowly, the sound of his boots echoing against the wooden floor. "You lack control, but that can be fixed."
"Why me?" I asked, confused and nervous. My fingers tightened around the sword. "I mean… there are others who need more help than I do."
He stopped just a few feet away from me, close enough that I could feel the air shift between us. His eyes locked with mine.
"The future Luna should not be a disgrace," he said simply.
My lips parted slightly, a rush of anger and confusion rising inside me. "What did you just call me?"
His expression did not change. Calm. Confident. Like he knew something I did not.
"Future Luna," he repeated.
I took a step back, my heart pounding. "Why would you say that?"
There was something about the way he looked at me, like he knew everything already — who I was, what I would become, and maybe even the things I did not know about myself. It made me feel exposed, like he could see right through me.
"Why would you want to train me personally?" I asked again, my voice trembling slightly.
He tilted his head, studying me for a moment. "Because if you fail, it will not only be your loss. It will be ours."
His words lingered in the air, heavy and cryptic. I wanted to ask what he meant, but my throat felt tight. I could not even find my voice.
He turned slightly, his eyes flicking to the sword still clutched in my hand. "You are holding it wrong."
My cheeks burned as I looked down at my grip. "I am still learning."
"Then learn fast."
I bit my lip, frustration mixing with something else — something I could not name. His presence was overwhelming, not harsh but commanding, almost magnetic.
"Do not let anyone see you as weak," he continued, his tone softer now, though still firm. "Strength is not in the body alone, Elora. It is in the will."
His words should have encouraged me, but all I could focus on was the fact that he knew my name. Again.
He took a step toward the door, his back to me now.
"Wait," I blurted out before I could stop myself. My voice was shaky, uncertain.
He paused, turning slightly. "Yes?"
I hesitated. My thoughts tangled in panic and curiosity. The question that had been haunting me since yesterday slipped out before I could hold it back.
"Were you the one who helped me last night?"
He said nothing. His expression was unreadable.
The silence that followed made my stomach twist, and I could feel the air around us grow thicker, almost suffocating.
His gaze lingered on me one last time before he finally turned and walked out, leaving me standing there breathless, my heart pounding in my chest.
"Yes." He answered, resting against the wall.
Oh shit—