Chapter 65

Eric

I stared in shock as Rowena leaped over the barrier and practically sprinted across the gymnasium, her steps sure and steady and utterly unhindered despite the ankle injury that had previously required her to use crutches.

How was she walking like that all of a sudden?

The gymnasium fell silent as Rowena tended to the injured warrior, but it wasn’t the shock of the warrior’s injury that had everyone dumbstruck; instead, all eyes flickered back and forth between Rowena and her crutches, sitting discarded by the bench.

Before I could call out to her or even try to reach her side, she disappeared through a door, leading the injured warrior to the infirmary. A low growl rumbled in the back of my mind, and I realized it was my wolf trying to get my attention.

“What the hell is going on?” I found myself asking as the gymnasium slowly returned to its earlier excitement.

“Her wolf…” My wolf growled lowly in the back of my mind, bristling with barely contained excitement. “It’s… awakening.”

I felt my heart skip a beat in my chest as the realization hit me. Rowena’s wolf was emerging, likely kickstarting her accelerated healing abilities that came with our kind. That must be why she could suddenly walk without issue.

Normally, this would have been an exciting occasion. Rowena would finally get her wolf at eighteen years old, no longer being considered a failure or an outcast by others, and would finally uncover her other abilities as well.

But it wasn’t exciting. If anything, it was… terrifying.

A surge of panic washed over me as the thought came to my mind. If her wolf continued to awaken, it would only be a matter of time before she picked up my scent and realized that I was her mate.

The mere thought made my heart race with a mixture of longing and dread. While the idea of Rowena knowing we were fated mates filled me with a sense of excitement that I couldn’t even begin to put into words, it also filled me with fear for her safety.

After all, if she found out that I was her mate, then she would know the truth: that she was not my real sister.

And if she knew that we were not related, then perhaps her true identity would be uncovered. And considering the fact that people were hunting for her, people who had no intention of returning her to her rightful home, then she was in danger. Grave danger.

I had to protect her, no matter how much it pained me.

My mind raced as I weighed the options I had; I needed to find some sort of way to keep her from noticing my scent.

After wracking my brain for a few moments, I realized that there was something that could be done; I had heard about a special tincture before, an elixir of sorts, that could temporarily mask my scent from her. If I took it, she would be none the wiser about our connection, at least for a while.

It could buy me time to prepare, to keep her safe until all of this blew over.

They were sure to stop the search soon enough, right? Perhaps they would close the case of the missing princess once more and that would be the end of it.

But even then, the thought of hiding such a fundamental part of myself from her, of denying her the truth about our bond, twisted my insides into knots. It would be for her own good, I tried to reassure myself, but the empty ache it prompted made me want to double over in agony.

Suddenly, I was jolted out of my deep train of thought by the sound of the announcer’s voice reverberating through the gymnasium. The final round of combat trials was beginning—this time, a team battle between two trios of warriors—three winners of various rounds from each camp.

“On Team A we will have… Alex Lush… Adrian Almond… and Eric Griffith!”

With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I stepped out onto the mat with my team. Adrian was one thing; I hated him for dating Rowena, and especially for standing her up. But more than that, I couldn’t help but notice that the other warrior, Alex Lush, was the same novice who had nearly died at the pool party.

He was a good kid, truly—and I accepted the fact that I had gone too hard on him at the pool party, don’t get me wrong—but he was no fighter. I remembered his solo fight from earlier in the competition; he had won only thanks to sheer dumb luck.

I felt a scoff rumble under my breath, already resigning myself to the fact that our team was as good as defeated. There was no way that a fumbling novice would be able to hold his own, especially not against the three warriors from the other camp.

“Looks like we’ve been paired up, eh, Griffith?” Adrian said as he sidled up to me on the mat, his eyes glinting with an expression I couldn’t quite read.

I grit my teeth and nodded. “I guess so.”

Adrian nodded his head toward Alex, who was busy re-wrapping his wrists on the sidelines. “What do you think of that one?”

“Alex?” I shrugged, trying not to come across as too much of a jerk. “He’s a novice. We’ll have to pick up the slack.”

“I’ll say.” Adrian eyed me up and down, and for a moment, I thought about calling him out for what he had done to Rowena—for all the pain he had put her through. But now was not the time or the place, and besides, Alex was already joining us. Meanwhile, our opponents—the three top winners from the other camp—were setting up on the other side of the mat.

“Hey, guys,” Alex said, bowing his head respectfully as he approached. “It’s an honor to fight with you.”

Adrian smirked. I opened my mouth to retort, but quickly shut it again. Finally, the buzzer went off.

The match began in a flurry, the minutes ticking by like an eternity. The game was simple: each trio was given a colored flag, and whichever team got the flag into the opposite team’s hoop on the other side of the mat would win.

But it was a difficult match. The other team was more coordinated than we were, more focused on teamwork and communication. Adrian and I could barely even bear to look each other in the eyes, let alone communicate. And Alex? Well, neither of us bothered with the rookie.

Maybe that was our mistake.

Before we knew it, we were on the verge of losing; the other team had carefully coordinated their moves, their smallest player weaving between the three of us with the flag in his hands while the other two distracted us.

But then, something happened.

Alex lunged. And he struck.

My jaw dropped as the novice followed up with a series of fluid movements, methodically beating the other team’s flag-holder back. The crowd hooted and howled, the roar deafening. That was only when I saw it: our flag tucked into Alex’s hand.

Then, with a final, well-timed kick, he sent the warrior crashing to the mat. Their flag went flying, and Alex took the opportunity to bolt. Our flag sailed gracefully into the hoop, and the buzzer went off.

I could scarcely believe my eyes. The novice had somehow managed to overcome the odds and snatch an unlikely win. Our camp had won the tournament; it was over.

In a massive, cheering rush, the crowd surged forward and picked Alex up onto their shoulders. He pumped his fists heroically in the air, a look of sheer pride on his face. Meanwhile, the other camp’s warriors threw their gloves down.

And Adrian and I just stood there, too awestruck to even speak or breathe.

A wave of shame washed over me, then, as I realized how badly I had misjudged the young warrior. I had written him off as a hopeless case, too arrogant and narrow-minded to see his true potential.

As the crowd carried Alex around the room and the announcer called out our camp’s victory, I found myself scanning the room, seeking out Rowena’s face in the crowd. When our eyes finally met where she was sitting back on the sidelines, she slowly shook her head at me.

She knew. I felt a pang of guilt, then, knowing that she was disappointed in my behavior, in my failure to give the novice a fair chance.

I supposed I should apologize, shouldn’t I?

“And now,” the announcer began, his voice booming through the vaulted gymnasium, “a round of applause for our cheerleaders as the cheerleading ceremony begins!”