Helanie:
"Let handle her," Norman whispered to his brother, hands on his hips. He was wearing a white sleeveless shirt and a pair of gray jeans. His hair, damp yet springy, fell in casual waves across his forehead.
The strands bounced even more as he strode toward , gesturing for to step aside so we could speak in private. But I didn’t obey his silent instructions, forcing him to stop directly in front of , his back shielding from the view of the other students.
"And what are you here for now?" he asked in a low, gruff voice.
"To try my luck one last ti," I replied, a bit too eagerly. After all, he would soon be my trainer at the academy. I respect him and want a good relationship with him as a teacher and a student.
"Huh?" He squinted, as though struggling to grasp what I ant. I guess I needed to explain myself better to him.
"I said—" I started to repeat, but he clicked his tongue sharply, silencing .
"I heard you. Now tell why you think you’ll get another chance when the rules clearly state you’re out. The other candidates who lost left already, so why are you still hanging around?" He pointed at the ground for emphasis before placing his hands back on his hips, standing tall and imposing.
I would think twice before provoking him again, especially when he was letting his wolfish side show.
"Because I have this." Stepping back from him slightly and positioning myself within view of the crowd—just in case he tried to snatch it away—I held up the red card.
He stared at it for a long mont, then hissed under his breath.
"What... what is this?" His voice was almost a growl, teeth clenched so tightly I half-expected his jaw to snap.
"My stepbrother gave it to ," I replied without sha, boldly invoking his brother’s na, knowing full well he might not approve.
The others nearby leaned in, straining to catch our conversation after seeing the card in my hand. Though they couldn’t hear us, they understood what the card signified: one last chance.
"Did you... beg Emt for it?" Norman ran his hand through his hair, visibly anxious, as if I had sohow stolen his brother’s kidney.
"No! He gave it to himself," I insisted, my tone growing harsher before I quickly softened it, catching the look Norman shot . He obviously didn’t appreciate speaking back to him so sharply.
Maximus, who had been hanging back, finally gave in and joined us.
"What’s going on here? Why does she have that card?" he demanded, striding toward us with a scowl. He echoed the question his brother had asked before. Norman just pointed at the card, sighing as he took small, agitated steps back and forth.
"Emt gave her his card?" Maximus’s voice almost rose until he noticed the students around us. Lowering his tone, he hissed, "And you ca here to use it? Have you lost your mind? Do you have a death wish?"
"I want to be part of this academy," I repeated, feeling like a broken record. Each ti I ntioned the academy, Norman fixed with that deadly glare.
"What is your obsession with the academy, anyway?" he scoffed. "It’s not like you’ll accomplish anything. You don’t even have a wolf, and half the classes are combat training." He gestured for to step away, but I resisted again, refusing to move out of the crowd’s sight.
I wasn’t about to be isolated. Being alone ant being vulnerable, and I couldn’t handle feeling miserable among strangers.
"That’s my problem to worry about. If I can just learn to defend myself, I could join the training," I tried to explain, but they didn’t want to believe I was capable of anything.
"With that fra of yours?" Norman sneered, wrinkling his nose. "You’re fragile and—very manipulative."
"All I know is that I have this card now," I replied, holding it up so the students could see that I intended to use it.
"Did you even see what today’s test is about?" Maximus moved in front of again, blocking my view of the crowd. "And besides, the test is over. We’ve already chosen the candidates. Now, if we pit you against an accepted candidate, they’ll complain about having to take the test twice, and if we put you up against a failed candidate, everyone will wonder why they’re not getting another shot."
Maximus’s excuse brought a slight smirk of relief to Norman’s face.
"Besides, they’re being downright brutal over there," Norman said, his tone softening just slightly. "Rember how it felt when Sydney and Lamar beat you up? This will be worse, and no one’s going to rush you to the hospital. Because once you lose—you’re just a rogue." He paused, then added gently, "This card might let you try, but it’ll only give you Emt’s stepsister’s status if you’re accepted."
"And you said I was manipulative." The mont I called him out on his changing tone and his pretense of concern, his softened expression instantly hardened, anger flashing in his eyes again.
"Easy!" Maximus stepped between us as Norman squared up, ready to confront over my remark.
It seed Maximus had co up with a solution. He faced , rolled his shoulders, stretched his neck, and then declared, "Since there’s no other candidate left, you’ll have to fight the trainer."
My heart didn’t just skip a beat; it skipped several. I fell silent, waiting for him to add sothing—so clarification, or even a hint that this was a joke—but he was dead serious.
"Huh? You an... I’ll have to fight you two?" Since he left hanging, I decided to confirm it myself.
"Yes, or how about just one of us?" Maximus’s smirk sent a chill down my spine. My body shuddered in fright.
This was wrong on so many levels. How on earth was I supposed to stand a chance against him?
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