The training grounds remained alive with motion even after the brief disruption of their spar, the steady rhythm of combat continuing all around as students exchanged blows, practiced techniques, and pushed their limits under the open sky, while the faint echoes of strikes and movement carried through the air in a constant, disciplined cadence.

Amidst that controlled chaos, Zarhka stood still for a brief moment, her chest rising and falling unevenly as she looked around, her gaze flickering across the surrounding students before returning to Damon, then briefly toward Mira, Vaelith, and Eric, as though suddenly aware of all the eyes that might be on her.

A faint flush spread across her face, far more noticeable against her dark skin than it should have been, her ears twitching slightly as she shifted her weight, her usual confident stance faltering just enough to betray the turmoil beneath.

"I—I ain’t feelin’ well... I’ll be leavin’ for now!" she said, her voice carrying that rough, rolled accent, though lacking its usual force as the words came out quicker than intended.

Before anyone could respond—

She turned.

And dashed off.

Her steps were fast, almost abrupt, cutting across the training grounds as she moved away without looking back, leaving behind a brief, awkward gap in the flow of the sparring area.

Damon remained where he stood, his gaze following her retreating figure, his expression unreadable, while behind him the others watched in silence, each of them processing the moment in their own way as the sounds of training gradually filled the space she had left behind.

A short distance away from Damon’s group, another sparring circle had formed, its boundary marked not by lines on the ground but by the shifting rhythm of movement and intent, as Celdric faced one of his party members in close quarters, their exchange already in motion. The air between them snapped with sharp, controlled impacts as his opponent drove forward with a quick combination, a straight punch followed by a low step-in meant to break his stance, yet Celdric turned his body just enough to let the strike slide past, his forearm rising to deflect the second motion while his foot pivoted smoothly, redirecting his center of balance without losing ground.

His response came almost immediately, a short counter aimed at the ribs, transitioning into a tighter exchange as he stepped in close, his movements precise and efficient, yet—

His focus wasn’t entirely there.

Beyond the immediate clash, his gaze drifted.

Just for a moment.

Toward Damon.

Now sparring with Eric, who seemed far more interested in avoiding engagement than committing to it, constantly moving, retreating, circling, forcing Damon to chase the rhythm rather than dominate it.

Celdric’s eyes lingered there—

And his thoughts followed.

To kill a duke’s son...

The words echoed, heavier now than when they had first been spoken.

The heir of Duke Valecrest...

His opponent moved again, throwing a quick hook meant to catch him off guard, but Celdric reacted on instinct, raising his guard just in time to absorb the impact before stepping back, creating space as his stance adjusted, his breathing steady but his mind still divided.

Wouldn’t that be too risky...?

His eyes shifted again.

This time—

Toward Serena.

She stood at the edge of the training ground, her posture composed, her gaze fixed not on the spar itself, but on him, unwavering, as though waiting for something he had yet to decide.

Celdric’s jaw tightened slightly as he turned back into the exchange, his opponent pressing forward again, forcing engagement as their bodies closed distance once more, hands moving in quick succession—block, deflect, counter—yet the rhythm lacked its usual sharpness.

I do hate him...

The thought surfaced.

But not with the same weight as before.

But that was only because of the political position my family is in...

A step.

A shift.

Their shoulders collided briefly as Celdric attempted to redirect the momentum, but his timing was just slightly off.

And for securing my position as the heir...

...but to actually kill him...

His opponent seized the opening.

A fist drove forward—And connected.

The impact snapped against his guard, slipping just enough to stagger him back a step as his balance faltered, his eyes widening slightly in that brief moment of disruption.

Silence.

Not around him ,but within.

As the thought settled.

And then—shifted.

Celdric straightened slowly, his posture correcting itself as his breathing steadied, his gaze sharpening once more, the hesitation that had lingered beginning to fade.

Why am I acting like I don’t have a choice in this...?

A faint realization settled into place.

Guess the thought of killing a duke’s heir pressured me more than it should have...

His opponent moved in again, expecting the same rhythm—

The same distraction.

But this time—Celdric moved first.

His foot stepped forward sharply, closing the distance before the attack could fully form, his hand snapping up to parry the incoming strike while his other arm drove in, forcing his opponent off balance as he controlled the center space with sudden authority.

The tempo changed instantly.

Where before there had been hesitation—

Now there was precision.

Dominance.

Each movement flowed into the next, his strikes clean, calculated, forcing his opponent backward step by step as he dictated the exchange, cutting off angles, denying recovery, overwhelming through control rather than brute force.

It’s not me who needs help...

A sharp pivot.

A controlled strike to the midsection.

It’s her.

His opponent attempted to regain footing, but Celdric pressed in without allowing the space, his movements tightening further, his control absolute as he shifted his weight and drove forward with a final sequence—

And if I am to help her...

A decisive motion.

A final kick—Clean and precise.

Landing with enough force to break whatever resistance remained as his opponent was knocked off balance and sent to the ground, the impact echoing faintly against the training floor.

...then she needs to give something in return as well.

The motion ended as the fight was over.

Celdric stood still for a moment, looking down at his fallen opponent, his expression composed once more, as though nothing of the earlier hesitation had ever existed.

Then slowly—He lifted his gaze.

Looking toward Serena who was already watching him.

And this time—He didn’t look away.

***

Zarhka ran across the academy grounds, her steps quick and uneven, her breathing heavier than it should have been for someone of her physical strength, as though the unrest within her refused to settle no matter how much distance she put between herself and the training field.

By the time she reached the female dormitory, her pace had only barely slowed, her thoughts spiraling in ways that felt unfamiliar, intrusive, and far too persistent to ignore.

It’s almost like my mate-in’ period... she thought, her brows tightening as she climbed the stairs, her grip tightening against the railing for just a moment before she forced herself to keep moving, not bein’ able ta control myself even from the slightest touch...

Her jaw clenched faintly.

...is this why humans are so obsessed with it...?

The thought unsettled her.

Yet—It didn’t leave.

Instead, it deepened.

I... I wanna feel that again...

Her steps slowed slightly as she reached her door, her breathing uneven as her thoughts became heavier, more focused.

D-dat sensation... that damn pleasure...

She pushed the door open and stepped inside before closing it behind her, the soft click echoing faintly in the quiet room as she leaned back against it, her shoulders pressing into the wood as she exhaled slowly, her eyes closing for just a moment.

And then—

His voice echoed in her mind.

"You won’t expect anything from me..."

Her ears twitched faintly.

A low breath left her as her thoughts drifted back to what had followed, the memory replaying itself with an intensity that made her chest tighten, her body responding before she could stop it.

Her hands moved almost unconsciously.

Slipping beneath the fabric of her skirt as she tried once again to chase that feeling, to recreate what had taken hold of her so completely before.

But just like earlier—It didn’t come.

The sensation remained incomplete.

Shallow.

Wrong.

Her breathing grew uneven again, frustration creeping in as her movements failed to produce anything close to what she remembered, her body responding with tension rather than release.

...Why ain’t it... workin’...? she thought, her voice echoing faintly in her head with that rough, rolling edge, what the hell’s missin’...?

Her gaze lowered.

Then—shifted to the side toward the door.

Toward the door knob.

Something in her eyes changed ,a flicker of realization.

"T-this..." she muttered, her voice quieter now, almost uncertain as her hand slowly withdrew from beneath her skirt, her fingers lingering for just a moment before she lifted them, staring at them as though trying to understand something she had only just grasped.

Then—

Without warning—

SNAP!

***

Damon stood outside the dormitory room, an unmistakable irritation resting on his face as he stared at the door in front of him, his brows slightly furrowed as though even being here was already a mistake in his mind. He exhaled slowly, running a hand briefly through his hair as his thoughts circled back with quiet annoyance.

Just how the hell did I end up here...

The question lingered without an answer he cared to accept, and with a faint shake of his head, he stepped forward, raising his hand to knock against the door with controlled firmness.

The sound echoed lightly.

But no response came.

He paused, listening for a moment longer before his expression tightened just slightly.

...Is she not in her room?

Without overthinking it further, he reached for the doorknob, his fingers closing around it as he turned it slightly and pushed—

Only for the knob to come loose in his hand.

For a brief second, Damon simply stared at it.

Then at the door.

Which shifted open just enough under the pressure.

And from within—

"Ahhh... yeah... Ohh... dis... j-just like dis..."