LOGINBlake's POV:Rolf won his pairing in six minutes flat.I watched the last ninety seconds of it from the preparation area doorway before the marshal moved us through and what I saw was clean and efficient and completely without drama. The Greywood heir was good and Rolf was better and the margin between them was not enormous but it was clear and Vega called it without hesitation.Rolf came off the floor and passed me in the corridor and said nothing.I said nothing back.We understood each other at this point.Aaran's pairing was first of the remaining two. His opponent was a Stonecrest heir who had been one of the quiet surprises of the physical round, strong defensive instincts and a ground game that had caught two previous opponents off guard. Aaran knew about the ground game. I had watched him review the footage twice in the preparation area.He handled it well.The bout went five minutes and twenty seconds and Aaran won it on three clean scoring sequences and a controlled finish t
Blake's POV:The two hours passed the way time passed before something significant. Too fast in the parts where you wanted it to slow and too slow in the parts where you wanted it gone.I ate what Aaran told me to eat which was a proper meal from the canteen rather than the compressed energy bar situation I usually defaulted to before competition rounds. Protein and carbohydrate and something green that I did not examine too closely. I sat alone at a corner table and ate it with full attention and thought about nothing except the food and then I went back to my room and lay flat on my back on the bed and closed my eyes for forty minutes without sleeping.When I got up I felt better than I had any right to feel given the accumulated contents of the last seventy two hours.The preparation area was quieter the second time. Four competitors for the quarter final pairings. Less collective noise than the morning. The energy had condensed into something more specific and personal.Aaran was
Blake's POV:He was quiet for a second."Because it is not only your circle," he said. "The rogue alpha does not discriminate by pack when he decides he wants to destabilize something. Shadowclaw has had our own version of this problem for three years." He glanced at me sideways. "I am not your enemy, Silver. I need you to start actually believing that."I studied his face.He held it steady. Not performing steadiness. Just carrying it the way people carried things that were genuinely true."I do not have answers yet," I said carefully. "We know the threat exists. We do not know who."He nodded once. Slow."Watch the edges," he said. "Not the people closest to the center. He never plants at the center. Too obvious, too much scrutiny. He plants at the edges where the access is quieter and the suspicion does not land as naturally." He straightened up. "That is all I have. Consider it freely given."He stood and walked back to the Shadowclaw side without another word.I sat with what he
Blake's POV:We stayed on the call for another six minutes after that.I know because I was watching the clock on my wall without meaning to, the way you watched things when the rest of your attention was somewhere else entirely and your eyes needed something neutral to rest on.Lyra did not cry again. She breathed and I held the line and neither of us filled the silence with things that did not need to be said. What was left after everything honest had already been spoken was just the being there, which was sometimes the only thing available and also the most important thing.When she finally said she was going to wash her face and get ready I said okay and meant it and hung up.I sat with the weight of it for a moment. Her father. The dean. Heavy and real and not mine to fix, which was the hardest part. She had said do not bring mom into this and she had meant it completely and I was going to respect that the way I always respected the things she said from the honest place underneat
Lyra's POV:The call lasted four minutes.I know because I watched the timer on Maya's phone from across the kitchen table without meaning to, counting the seconds in the specific way you count things when you are trying to occupy the part of your brain that would otherwise be doing something less useful like panicking.Her face had gone pale in the first thirty seconds and had not come back from that.She said yes three times and no once and I understand once and nothing else that I could hear from where I was sitting. Her free hand was flat on the table and I watched her fingers press down against the surface slowly, the way you pressed down on something when you needed to feel that the ground was still there.Then she said goodbye and ended the call and sat with the phone in her hand and looked at it."Maya," I said.She looked up at me."It is my father," she said. Her voice was even in the way that voices were even when evenness was being maintained through effort rather than the
Blake's POV:The north loop was longer than the east trail by about a kilometer and the terrain was different, more open in stretches, the canopy thinning out where the older trees had been cleared years ago and not yet replaced by anything of equivalent age. Running it beside Aaran was easy in the physical sense. He had a good pace and did not need to talk to fill the silence and the silence was useful because I needed it.My mind was not on the trail.My mind was eight minutes behind me on a different section of forest with a fallen branch and a hand on the back of my neck and a kiss that I had not asked for and had not walked away from fast enough.Why.That was the question sitting in the center of everything. Not why had he kissed me. I understood impulse. I understood the specific quality of a moment that arrived before the management did because I had been living adjacent to those moments with Alex Thorne for long enough to recognize them on sight.Why did his actions and his e
Alex’s POV:Night is the worst.Daytime is loud. Training. Voices. Orders. Footsteps. I can hide in that noise. I can act like nothing touches me. But now I am inside my dorm and the walls are too quiet. The bed looks too big. My head will not stop.I sit on the edge of my bed and stare at the door.
Maya's POV:The room feels too warm tonight.I sit on Lyra’s bed, pretending to scroll through my phone while she talks about decorations for Alex’s birthday. Her voice is light, excited, soft in a way that makes people feel safe. She is sitting cross legged on the floor, papers and ribbons around
Alex’s POV:My chest hurts.I am still on the floor, knees pulled close, hands shaking. Tears keep falling even though I try to stop. I press my palm over my mouth to silence the sound, but my breathing still comes out broken.Why does it always hurt more at night?When I see his face in the Academy
Blake's POV:The training yard felt too big today.I sat on the wooden bench near the side fence, elbows on my knees, hands hanging between them. My breathing was still heavy from drills, but that was not what made my chest tight.It was Alex.He stood across the field, speaking with another traine







