The bloodline test

Selene’s POV

And I put my hand on my chest, opened my robe, and boom—they were gone. Those big things were gone.

My body was bigger than yesterday, a bit wide shoulders, and man, I stink. I smelled myself and almost shrieked. "Oh god, I smell!" shaking my head. My body felt a bit heavy, but I'd be used to it. It wasn't that big, but a bit bigger than my old body. I was so, so happy.

Then some other voice on the mic.

I repeat, all new recruits are to report at the training field. There shall be penalty to any neglect to do so.

"Oh god," I cried, running around the room. "Can't they give me a minute to catch my breath?

I arrived dressed in the training uniforms they had given us in a hurry. The air was heavy with sound, screaming, and pounding feet. And then I saw him—my roommate—standing among the senior trainers.

He smiled at me. I smiled half-heartedly back. "Great, he's one of them," I said to myself.

Then our commander started speaking.

"Newbies will wall-run, climb, engage in one-on-one sparring, avoid traps, and culminate in a final endurance battle with a senior or an automated barrage. It takes your strength, endurance, speed, and pain threshold to the extreme."

I stood there blinking. "You've got to be kidding me," I muttered.

I did not even have time to blink twice before training began. They made us run miles with tires wrapped around our legs. My legs were screaming at me, but to my surprise, I rocked the wall. "Yes!" I said to myself half in shock that I actually made it.

And the crawling—dragging on the ground, hoisted to a particular height—it was absolute torture. My body burned everywhere. Then we were told to take off our shirts for fighting. I gladly did so, catching a glimpse of my flat chest. "Perfect," I tell myself with a grin.

Then came the fighting. We were paired with seniors. I don't know if my roommate selected me personally or he was appointed to me ,but we battled it out. First round—I lost, naturally. He was that much stronger. I landed on the mat flat out, winded, but I refused to quit.

Halftime had come, and they sat down for food. They all ate voraciously like hungry wolves. I was unable to eat like them. I just sipped water, panting for air. My roommate stopped by, inviting me to another seat that wasn't so packed. "Thanks," I mumbled. He nodded and brought me something to eat. I was able to eat something.

I thought the sane portion of the day was over. I was wrong.

There was a further announcement on the mic:

All newcomers are to present themselves at the assembly hall at once."

"Great," I grumbled, rising from my sore body.

We all trooped there. The commandant stood straight before us.

"Today you will all be performing a bloodline confirmation test," he bellowed. "You will each cut your hand and bleed onto your family list. This ceremony confirms your official presence and courage as Alpha trainees."

The room was quiet. They were all fine with it—except me.

He continued, "The Alpha Academy requires blood. It's tradition. You cut your own palm to prove you have the guts of your bloodline."

We formed a line. My heart started beating so quickly that I was certain the entire theater could hear it. I hoped I could play dead just so I wouldn't have to do this.

Those words of that crazy old lady remained in my head—any hint of blood will lose the magic, and it won't return until the wound is closed.

The line moved fast. Different lines, different people doing the cutting. I was sweating palms, trembling knees, but I attempted to be cool.

My turn finally. I moved up. One of the officers looked at me.

"Your turn, kid," he said.

I hesitated. "Uh, the blood just doesn't agree with me," I tried to sound casual.

He rolled his eyes. "We don't care. Everybody bleeds today ."

"I am serious," I tried again. "It actually makes me ill. Like, I would absolutely faint."

He glared at me. "No excuses. Hold out your hand.".

I wanted to protest more but bit my tongue, never wanting to draw attention. I slowly extended my hand out to him, my heart pounding against my chest, expecting the worst.

If this spell doesn't work here, I'm done for. I'll be found out. Thrown out. Maybe killed.

I shut my eyes, waiting for the cut.

Then, just as the knife made contact with my skin, a low, husky voice bellowed from the back—

"Stop."

I froze. My heart skipped a beat.

I turned slowly, my own breath trapped in my own throat.

And to my greatest surprise, it was……