Elion nodded, his mind reeling from what had just happened.
Tessa's face was flushed as she met Elion's gaze, her eyes wide and apologetic. "I... I don't know what came over me," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "That was... inappropriate."
She looked down at the ground, her brows furrowed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That wasn't my intention."
Elion shook his head, trying to reassure her. "No, it's fine. I mean, you didn't do anything wrong. We both got carried away...Actually, it wasn't bad, though, if anything, it was quite a pleasant experience for me."
"Look, I... I appreciate the gesture," she said softly. "But we can't let this happen again. It's not professional, and it could affect our training."
Elion nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "Yeah, you're right. I just... I couldn't help myself. You're a very attractive woman."
Tessa blushed at his words, looking down shyly. "Thank you. But we really should focus on our sparring for now."
Selene approached them again, her arms crossed as she studied their interaction. "Alright, you two. Let's cool off and get back to training. We have work to do."
Tessa attacked again, but Elion was ready this time, ducking under her punch, stepping into her guard, and planting a palm on her sternum to shove her back.
It barely moved her.
But it created some space.
He followed immediately with a quick strike to her midsection; it was light, but precise.
Tessa winced.
Elion blinked. Was that… clean?
Selene nodded once from the side. "Better."
For the next thirty seconds, they exchanged blows, Tessa's heavy strikes meeting Elion's quick dodges and sharp counters. He was outmatched, exhausted, and running on fumes…
…but somehow staying in the fight.
When Tessa finally managed to hook his ankle and slam him down again, he couldn't rise. His limbs refused.
Selene walked over and blew the whistle herself.
"Yield."
Elion opened his mouth, but only a ragged breath came out.
"…yield."
Tessa knelt beside him, panting. "Hey, sorry, that last one was—"
"You did great," Elion whispered, barely conscious.
Selene crouched down, observing him closely.
"Remember this feeling," she said quietly, for him alone. "This is where most people break. The edge. But if you learn to stay here… you'll grow faster than anyone else."
His vision swirled.
Damn. I'm so tired. Tired as he was, inwardly he was grinning.
He had a good time.
His vision swirled.
The last thing he saw before closing his eyes, everything dissolved into black was Selene's faint, approving smile, rare, sharp, and oddly warm.
...
By the end of the session, half the class lay sprawled across the mats, utterly spent. The air was thick with the sound of groaning students and the occasional muttered curse.
Selene clapped her hands once. The sound echoed like a gunshot.
"Listen up, you miserable lot!" she barked. "The world doesn't care how tired you are. You either push past your limits or you die weak. Remember that."
No one dared argue.
"Class dismissed."
A collective sigh of relief swept through the gym.
Elion wiped the sweat from his brow, chest heaving. Every muscle ached, every limb screamed in protest, but the fire inside him still burned.
Selene caught his eye one last time as he turned to leave.
She gave a faint nod. "Good work today."
Elion blinked, almost unsure he'd heard her right. He nodded back silently and walked off with the others.
As the students stumbled toward the showers, the usual complaints resumed.
"She's a monster."
"My legs are jelly."
"I can't feel my arms."
"Can someone carry me?"
Elion didn't join in. He just smiled faintly to himself.
Monster or not, Selene had given him something no one else had: acknowledgment.
And for the first time in a long while, he felt alive.
Selene remained behind as the gym emptied, arms crossed, eyes narrowing thoughtfully.
Her tail swished once, slow and deliberate.
"That boy…" she murmured. "He's changing."
Memories of the old Elion flashed in her mind, the quiet one who barely met anyone's eyes, whose movements had been dull, lifeless, beaten down.
Now? There was steel in his gaze. Resolve in every step.
She smiled, a true, fanged smile that bared her predatory satisfaction.
"That's how a student of mine should be."
...
The air outside the gymnasium was thick with the smell of sweat and disinfectant.
Students staggered out through the double doors, clutching their towels, panting, groaning, or cursing softly under their breath. The echoes of Selene's drills still rang in their ears.
Elion was among the last to leave, wiping his face with the corner of his shirt.
His legs felt like iron rods, heavy and aching with every step, but his heart was steady. For once, he wasn't just exhausted; he was satisfied.
That feeling lasted all of five seconds.
"Well, well, look who we have here."
The voice was smooth and mocking, dripping with arrogance.
Elion didn't need to look up to know who it belonged to.
William.
The bane of his existence.
He leaned lazily against the wall by the corridor corner, a towel slung across his neck, hair slicked back with sweat, his usual smug grin plastered across his face.
Beside him stood his small entourage of lackeys, Kane, Dru, and Farris, snickering like a pack of hyenas.
And clinging to his arm, her perfectly styled hair slightly damp from training, was Mira.
She was still in her tight gym clothes, and Elion had to admit, she looked very sexy, her every movement deliberate, meant to draw eyes.
"Elion," William drawled, eyes narrowing. "Don't forget your job after supper, yeah?"
The laughter that followed made Elion's jaw tighten.
He knew exactly what "job" William meant.
The "job" of being their target dummy.