Chapter 9

ELVIRA'S POV

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As if they were summoned, The Three step out from the treeline to our right. We both turned.

They've swapped their uniforms for black T-shirts and joggers that cling to every line of muscle underneath their skin, and for the first time I get the full, unfiltered scale of them. All three of them were built like they were designed for exactly this kind of hunt. Tattoos map across bare forearms, some more inked than others, but every one of them carries the same mark on the right bicep. The tattoo was a Roman numeral III.

None of them look remotely like they've been hunting. There was no blood, no dirt, nothing to suggest they've done more than walk out here and wait for us. My pulse ticks up anyway, some old animal part of me searching for exits without being asked to.

"Can we help you?" Eliano asks with his fist tightened.

"Are you guys enjoying your kill?" Rafael asks, but his eyes never left me.

"We did, thanks," Eliano answers for both of us, sliding an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his side.

The reaction was instant. All three of them were tense, a low current of tension snapping tight across the clearing.

"What's that saying?" Eliano muses aloud.

Nobody looks amused.

"You should head back to the signing house," Gideon growls, and it was barely the only words from his mouth at this point, more vibration than voice. "It'll get dark soon."

It won't yet, not for another two hours. I frown, but Eliano's already steering me away, his arm still slung around me.

"We'll be on our way, then," he chirps, delighted with himself. "See you around."

"What was that about?" I ask once we're a safe distance off the three. He finally drops his arm.

"I like riling them up."

"Clearly, I can see that . Are you friends with them at all?"

He snorts. "Let's say we have an understanding."

"Right." I filed that away with everything else I don't quite understand about this place yet. The list is getting long.

He walks me to the dorm split. "Thanks for the hunt, Elvi. See you in Alchemy tomorrow."

Inside my dorm, the girls are sprawled across the sofas. I ducked into my room to rinse the taste of the hunt off my teeth, then squeeze in next to Daphne on the sofa.

"How was the hunt?" Lexa asks.

"It was really good. We got a fallow."

"Best kind of fresh meat for werewolves, honestly."

"They're my favourite too," I say. "We saw The Three during the hunt too."

"Wait… with Eliano?" Anika sits up. "And The Three were out there too?"

"Yeah. He swears he's not friends with them, just some sort of understanding exists between him and them. I guess, it is mutual rich-boy respect, probably."

"Blue bloods always stick together, no matter how much they claim to hate each other," Daphne says wisely.

"I'm surprised they were even in the woods," Lexa adds. "They usually go home weekends to hunt in their own land. I felt they were too good for school ground hunting, apparently."

"I don't think they were actually hunting," I muse. "There were no blood on them, and they weren't deep in the trees. Just... there like they were waiting for us."

"That’s weird," Daphne agrees.

"What were they doing, then?" Lexa wonders.

We all shrug. Genuinely, I can’t tell what goes on inside The Three's collective head.

Thursday is uneventful, at least at first. Free period in the morning. I study, mostly out of habit rather than need; the syllabus was already half-memorized from a summer with nothing better to do. Mathematics was my next class after my free period: Xavier and I traded our usual brief eye contact before I forced myself to look away. For the first time, I wondered if the teacher had noticed it yet, the way our eyes kept snagging on each other from opposite sides of the room. Rain forces us inside at break, the whole students crammed under the covered walkway between buildings, complaining in unison about wet blazers. Business studies was next in a blur; Gideon was quiet beside me, close enough that I'm hyperaware of every inch of space between us without either of us saying a word.

Alchemy was a practical class. It was all about healing potions, trial and error for that day. There were no measurements given, just an hour to find the right ratio to make the sampled healing potion. Eliano and I swapped ratios about eight times before landing somewhere close to the required army-green shade, just as the five-minute warning went off.

Compared to most submitted portions by other students… lurid neon and lime disasters were lining the front bench. I felt we had done well, but the room goes dead silent when Gideon steps up last and sets his bottle in the rack. It was identical, the exact shade as the teacher's own sample.

"This is extraordinary, Gideon," the teacher says, holding both bottles to the light while comparing. "Perfect outcome."

A couple of students actually applauded the sample given submitted; half of the students were joking, and half weren’t. Gideon didn't look bothered about it. He just sat back down, expressionless, as the whole thing bored him. Then he feels my stare and looks over, mouth curving at one corner. I manage a smile back before I can stop myself.

"Come on," Eliano says, tugging my sleeve. "Cleanup."

Skills class was the last lesson. It was hot, unexpectedly sunny after the morning's rain. We're taken to the field, a spread of weapons laid out for us to choose.

"What are we picking?" Lexa asks, hovering near me.

I scan the choices. There was no javelin, and I threw a lot of javelins in my high school. There were no morning stars, no nunchaku. "I guess it's down to throwing knives?" I suggest.

Anika and Daphne headed for nunchaku instead, already bickering over who gets a win first. Lexa and I claimed a table near the targets. A teacher walks us through the basics… feel the weight first, line the shot up with your non-dominant hand, throw it with the other hand. After a string of misses that thud embarrassingly into the grass behind the target, we started landing half-spins with something like consistency.

When it's time to move up to a full-spin throw, the teacher takes Lexa first. I kept practicing half-spins, waiting for my turn.

"Want me to show you the full-spin?"

A deep, husky baritone that freezes me mid-motion.

I already knew who it was before I even turned around.

Rafael.