From the stands, Fin felt her unease at the same time Jax felt a pang of unease from the castle yards. He had been quickly walking to the arena. But the unease in his chest was intense. Not normal for Nova.
He broke into a full blown run.
Nova's expression was unreadable. Calm. Neutral. She kept her annoyance and unease buried as best she could.
Down on the field, Silas Cormaire's grin spread slow and confident. "I see you remember me."
Nova didn't answer. Arms crossed, she just stared at him like she was calculating the exact angle required to end him in one hit.
Cormaire's chuckled. "Careful, Moonveil. That glare's almost adorable."
She rolled her eyes. Hard.
Up in the stands, Cael glanced at Fin — both thinking the same thing.
Jax slid into the seat beside them, still breathing hard.
"What the actual—" he hissed.
Cael smirked. "You missed a show."
Fin started laughing.
Jax shot him a dry look. "Let me guess, the three brain cells at work again?"
Cael snorted. "Pretty much. They were getting their asses kicked. So Draven decided to throw her against those three down there."
Fin shook his head, still laughing. "It was ridiculous. Were we ever this bad?"
"No," Jax and Cael answered in perfect unison.
"I don't like her in these trainings," Jax added quietly.
Fin's jaw flexed, eyes still on the field. In truth, he felt the exact same way.
Cael nodded.
"I don't like Elle in these either. But we take this slow. Baby steps, Thorne."
He hesitated, then added more seriously, "You should think about marking her. I think it would help."
Fin stiffened.
A storm brewed under his calm exterior — possessiveness, longing, that magnetic pull he couldn't fight.
Was he starting to care for her? The thought hit like lightning, quiet but undeniable.
Draven's whistle split through the air, jolting all three out of their thoughts.
Cormaire shifted mid-stride, fur bursting through in a blur of grey. Torren sprinted left, rope in hand. Malric dove for the knife.
Nova waited.
Cormaire's wolf struck first, slamming into her side. She rolled with the impact, pain flashing white-hot through her ribs as his claws tore through her sleeve and caught skin.
She twisted and used his momentum to throw him off balance, but Torren was already moving. A rope snapped through the air and caught her arm for a heartbeat before she surged forward and tore free. The recoil sent the rope lashing back, cracking across his cheek.
Malric charged next. She ducked, but not fast enough. The knife dragged across her thigh, sharp and burning, and she stumbled.
Cormaire lunged again. She barely turned in time before he slammed into her shoulder with full force. The air left her lungs. She hit the ground hard.
Draven blew the whistle yelling, but Nova pushed herself up. So he stopped.
Torren came again with the rope. She caught it this time, yanked him toward her, and drove her knee into his stomach. He folded, gasping.
Malric went for her exposed side, but she pivoted, caught his wrist, and slammed it into the ground until the knife fell loose. One kick sent it skidding out of reach.
Cormaire growled, circling back. She turned, still breathing hard, eyes locked on him. He lunged — faster this time. She waited until the last second, baiting him.
No one gasped this time thinking she was going to get hit at full speed. Everyone knew, except for him.
She dropped low at the last second, and used his own weight against him, throwing him sideways into the dirt.
He hit hard, skidding through the dust — but he was up again almost instantly, snarling. He lunged a second time, closing the distance before she could fully recover. His claws caught her ribs, tearing through her training suit and slicing into skin.
She stumbled back, one hand clamping over her side. Blood seeped between her fingers. Silver mixed with red.
Draven blew the whistle again, started shouting, but no one heard.
Cormaire circled, tail low. He charged, claws raking across the same spot on her ribs. Before she could recover, he slammed into her again at full force, driving her to the ground.
He pinned her there, one massive paw pressing into her shoulder, the other at her hip, snarling inches from her face.
For a second, the world narrowed to the sound of her heartbeat, pounding and ragged.
Then she moved.
Nova twisted hard, driving her knee up into his gut with everything she had. Cormaire's breath left him in a startled grunt. She rolled, using the split second of slack to shove him off and kick upward, sending him sprawling back into the dirt.
He hit the ground hard, shifting halfway back to human form mid-fall, gasping.
Nova pushed herself up, blood dripping from her lip. She wiped it with the back of her hand. Her eyes — cold and sharp — locked on Cormaire.
She was beyond done with this.
He rose to his feet, grinning like a man who thought losing was foreplay. He stretched his neck and rolled his shoulders
He grinned, "Careful, Moonveil. Keep looking at me like that and I'll start to think you like being underneath me."
Jax was gone from the stands in a blur, hitting the dirt hard, fury radiating off him like heat. He slammed into Cormaire, the punch landing with a sound that cracked through the field like thunder.
Cormaire's head snapped to the side, blood spraying from his mouth as he hit the ground.
"Say it again," Jax roared.
Draven was already shouting, crossing the field, but nobody moved.
Nova stood there, breathing hard. Her expression was unreadable, but fury flickered beneath the surface.
The whole arena knew better than to speak.
She took one step back — then her knees buckled. The arena tilted and blurred.
She hit the ground before anyone could catch her.
Fin vaulted the railing without thinking. He hit the ground beside her, sliding to his knees.
"Nova." His voice was steady and low. His fingers found her pulse, brushed blood from her cheek. She was breathing, shallow but there.
Draven jogged up to Nova. Jax was right behind him, dropping into a crouch on Nova's other side.
"Move," Jax said quietly, a warning wrapped in steel.
Draven hesitated, then stepped back as Jax lifted her carefully, cradling her against his chest.
"Class dismissed," Draven barked to the crowd. No one argued. The arena emptied fast, whispers dying as the weight in the air grew heavier.
"A word," Fin said, calm as a weapon.
Draven stiffened. Cormaire and his lieutenants didn't move.
Fin's gaze cut to Draven first. "Why is a student being pitted against a captain and two lieutenants?" His voice was calm. "She's not even a cadet. The exercise was to pin the target, not maim them."
Draven started to answer, but Cormaire spoke first. "She's not a regular student," he said, tone defensive. "We were testing her."
Jax's head snapped toward him. "Her path is Gamma Luna," he said, voice trembling with rage. "There's nothing to test."
Fin turned his full attention on Cormaire. "You realize," he said evenly, "you just drew blood on the High General's mate."
Cormaire's jaw clenched, unrepentant. "She's not marked," he said. "No title. She's an omega. You haven't claimed her outside the elders, and she's training to be a warrior. This is how we train our best."
Jax took a slow, deliberate step forward. The air around him shifted — colder, heavier.
"How dare you."
Fin moved beside him, eyes dark. "Fine. You just attacked the unmarked mate of the man who commands every field you've ever walked."
The silence that followed cracked like thunder.
Cormaire swallowed but didn't answer.
Jax took another step closer, his presence sharp enough to make the lieutenants flinch. The air practically vibrated with his rage, his gamma aura slipping free.
"Captain," he said, voice low and lethal, "if you even look at her ever again, I will kill you."
No one breathed.
Jax turned to Draven, tone dangerous. "Handle this."
Draven nodded tightly. "Captain Cormaire. Lieutenant Valeis. Lieutenant Denholm. Dismissed."
They didn't wait for him to say it twice.
As they left, Jax looked down at Nova in his arms — blood, dirt, bruises — and something in his eyes cracked. His grip on her tightened, and for a long moment, neither he nor Fin spoke.
The air was still heavy with what both of them were thinking: She's not meant to be training like this. She's not an omega. Even if she wasn't Jax's mate.