Cassian
My heart nearly spilled out of my chest as the words "practical training" left instructor Silas' mouth.
"Chop chop!" Instructor Silas said, clapping his hands once, sharp and loud, "We are in need of a demonstration. I need a volunteer from the old students."
A ripple of interest went through the class as they glanced at one another. Pushing themselves and will each other to step out.
"Two old students. Step out. One offense. One defense."
Instructor Silas looked around with a scowl when nobody stepped out quickly enough. "Anybody? Before I pick by myself."
"We will do it," one of the twins said and everywhere went silent as they both stepped out.
They stopped in the center of the training hall, facing off, identical and towering. The air around them felt charged, heavy with anticipation.
Instructor Silas smiled, slow and satisfied. "Good. You two know the drill. Now everybody step back."
I stepped back with the rest of the students but made sure to stay in front where I could see the middle clearly. I wanted to watch the twins go at each other. My curiosity was able to drown out my fear of them. For now.
The twins took their stances.
One dropped into a defensive posture, feet grounded, body relaxed but coiled. The other rolled his shoulders once and then, he attacked.
He didn't hold back.
The first strike came fast. A blur of motion, sharp and precise. The defender blocked it with ease, redirecting the force instead of stopping it outright. The next attack followed immediately. Then another.
Fists and elbows. A knee aimed for the ribs.
The defending twin absorbed it all, movements smooth and practiced, turning strikes aside with minimal effort. The sound of impact echoed through the hall as they both came together.
They looked so beautiful and ethereal yet so dangerous as they circled each other. The eyes focused on the other's movement and in the next minute they were coming together again.
I was watching them with wide eyes and my heart in my mouth, unable to look away for even a second. It was like a beautiful but destructive dance.
They didn't fight like students. They fought like predators. Their movements were controlled and ruthless. Every movement was calculated and deliberate.
My chest tightened with a quiet, aching certainty that I could never be like that.
The demonstration ended abruptly when instructor Silas stepped forward and raised a hand for them to stop. The attacker stepped back, both of them breathing evenly, not a hint of strain on either face.
Instructor Silas nodded. "That," he said, "is what I'm talking about. If all of you could fight like that then we won't even be having this class. Alas, some of you can't throw a punch to save your life."
If he hadn't been looking away from me, I'd have thought instructor Silas was talking about me.
The twins returned to their places without a glance at the rest of us. The room stayed silent long after they'd moved.
Instructor Silas turned back to us. "New students. Pair up. Slow pace. One attacks, one defends. Focus on form."
Everybody moved quickly and before I knew it, they were all paired up while I stood there, without a partner. Of course nobody chose me, I was small and skinny. I looked like I'd be blown away by the wind. If I were them, I wouldn't choose me either. Maybe instructor Silas won't notice and I'd miss this first class.
A voice inside me was telling me that was a bad idea. No alpha would want me if I couldn't fight but I don't care. I'd do anything to get me out of a beating. I knew nobody here would take it easy on me.
A shadow fell over me and I looked up, my stomach dropped as I took him in.
He was big, with broad shoulders, thick arms, scars tracing his neck like he'd been slit there too many times and survived each time. His eyes were dark and flat, his expression cold and unreadable. He looked like he could break me without effort.
"I'll defend," he said, already raising his arms.
Relief rushed through me so fast my knees weakened. At least if I was doing the attacking, not that I'd do a good job, he won't hit me.
"Thank you," I murmured, though my voice barely carried.
He didn't respond.
I stepped forward, heart hammering, hands lifting awkwardly in front of me as I tried to follow the stance instructor Silas showed up. Everybody got it, except for me.
The boy cocked his head as he took in my position. His lips twitched and I saw amusement in his eyes before he stepped forward with arms raised. Fear hit so hard my vision blurred.
I flinched—violent, ugly—stumbling back as my hands flew up to shield my head on instinct.
The boy froze. Surprise flickered across his face before he lowered his hand.
"Hey," he said quickly, not mocking. "I'm not trying to hit you."
I stood there, chest heaving, heart pounding too hard.
"I was correcting your stance," he added, softer. "Like this."
He demonstrated, shifting his position, angling his shoulder, adjusting his feet. No sudden movements this time.
I swallowed, heat flooding my face. "I… sorry." I couldn't help but feel ashamed.
"You don't have to apologize." His eyes narrowed, assessing, then his expression smoothed. "Breathe. I'm just trying to help."
My shoulders loosened and a breath of relief slipped out of me. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as I thought. I was super grateful I got a good partner, I could almost cry.
I forced my hands back up and stepped forward. We began.
I threw my first punch.
Pathetic. I knew it before it landed—if it even counted as landing.
The boy barely felt it. He looked down at my fist like I'd tapped him with a feather.
"Harder," he said.
I tried again.
And again.
Nothing.
I hit him the best way I could, putting weight into it, tightening my fist until my knuckles hurt. He kept blocking lightly.
"Hit harder," he repeated, firmer.
I gritted my teeth and swung again, sweat forming at my hairline. My brows furrowed, chest rising too fast as I tried to add more power behind my punch.
I tried my best but my punches stayed weak and sloppy.
Maybe my fathers had been right to say that my body wasn't built for this. Maybe I was just—
"Instructor Silas is coming. You need to do better than that." The boy warned, his brows furrowed as he watched another one of my weak attempts to land a strong punch.
My stomach dropped.