Chapter 4: Fists of Fire
1154 Words
Nora's POV
Combat class. Herbology. Werewolf history and culture. Transformation control and physiology. Mind links and supernatural abilities. The schedule doesn’t change just because I’m an Omega.
But here’s the kicker—because I turned down an Alpha, someone thought it’d be funny to shut off my alarm this morning. Breakfast was long gone. I yanked on my clothes and prayed the teacher wouldn’t blow up at me for being late, then sprinted toward the training hall.
The second I shoved the doors open, the smell of sweat and dust hit me full force.
So did everyone’s stares—including the instructor’s.
“Sorry, teacher—”
“Call me Instructor Brook. You just missed my introduction. Since it’s the first day, I’ll let it slide. But don’t let it happen again.”
Brook was massive, muscles stacked on muscles, his skin dark and tough-looking. He looked like the kind of man who could drop half the class with a single punch.
He cut off my excuse and pointed at the empty spot in the back.
“Instructor Brook, that’s not fair,” Selena chimed in, her voice sugary and sharp. “Everyone else was on time. Shouldn’t she be punished?”
“Yeah, otherwise we’ll all just stroll in late.”
“Nora, the academy’s about fairness. You don’t get special treatment just because you’re an Omega. You’ll take the punishment, right?”
Before I could move, Selena and her little crew jumped in, eager to pile on. I stopped dead and glared.
They were the ones who dumped my luggage last night. No doubt they were behind the alarm too. And now Selena just couldn’t resist pushing me further.
Brook frowned, but the voices grew, jeers echoing through the line.
I knew what happened in the auditorium wasn’t over. Selena must’ve told everyone how I rejected an Alpha’s son, leaving out the part that it had been her prank all along.
And with me being an Omega? That sealed my fate.
I spoke before Brook could. “I’ll take the punishment. But can I choose what it is? Don’t worry—it won’t give me any advantage.”
He nodded for me to go on.
I pointed straight at Selena. “How about a sparring match? A live demo for the class.”
Brook paused, then nodded, his eyes both sharp and approving. The crowd gasped.
…...
Selena and I stood on opposite ends of the combat floor. Dale fussed around her, handing her water, massaging her legs, while Selena fluttered her lashes at Damian, begging him for tips. Damian only stared at me, expression unreadable.
I rolled my eyes when he wasn’t looking. My side was empty. Nobody dared come close. My heart pounded, but my chin stayed high. This was my stand.
At least here at Silvermoon Academy, things were fair. Back in Shadow Pack, I’d never get the chance to face Selena like this.
“Listen, kid. Nora, right?” Brook muttered after laying out the rules for Selena. “I like your guts. Status doesn’t earn respect—actions do.”
I gave him a grateful look.
He went on, “Since you missed the theory, here’s a tip. Offense is the best defense. She looks bigger, but she’s soft. You’re smaller, but tough. I heard you even trekked here on foot from Shadow Pack. That’s no small feat.”
He tapped my knee guard and pushed me forward. “Jaw, back of the head, ribs, knees. Twist her wrist if you can. Now go. Take back your pride.”
The whistle blew. Selena and I lunged at each other, fangs bared.
…...
Selena’s fragile act vanished in a flash. She threw wild punches, sloppy but trained, probably hammered into her by her father in Mist Pack. She just never cared to practice.
Her fists sliced the air past my face and ears, strong but reckless. She leaned so hard into each swing her footwork wobbled. I ducked, slipped around her, hopped back, keeping space.
She snapped, her voice cutting the air. “Nora, waggy tail! That’s all you’ve got—running?”
“Werewolves aren’t cowards! Oh wait, I forgot—Omegas are worthless. No strength, no courage, no pride.”
The crowd roared, booing me, cheering her on. “Selena, trip her! Knock that Omega flat!”
I tuned them out. I could hear her breathing grow heavy, her steps stumbling, her own foot tangling her stride.
Sweat poured down my face, but this was nothing compared to walking from Shadow Pack.
I flicked my gaze at Brook. He gave the smallest nod toward her stomach and chin. I understood.
Before she could spit out another insult, I charged. My left fist slammed into her gut. She staggered but stayed standing. I coiled my right fist and smashed her jaw. A crack echoed. Selena reeled, then collapsed.
Silence swallowed the hall.
Her eyes went wide with humiliation. She started to rise, finger pointing at me.
Brook stepped in, blocking her. “Enough. Punishment’s over. Class continues.”
The stares stayed cold, but now there was something new—respect. Nobody spoke to me, but triumph surged in my chest. This victory was mine, even without applause.
Still, watching Selena surrounded by Dale and the others, whispering and glaring at me, I knew the torment wasn’t finished.
…...
Later, in the bathroom, laughter bounced off the tiles.
“67, 68, 69, 70!”
At Selena’s count, Dale and another girl yanked my head out of the sink.
I gasped and coughed, face red, body limp.
Since combat class, their cruelty had only grown—no longer just trashing my stuff, but constant humiliation.
A foot tripping me in class. Frogs in my desk. Shoes gone missing. And now, ambushed in the bathroom.
Selena crouched, slapped my cheek lightly, sneering. “You think you can fight me? Land a lucky shot? This is what happens. Don’t worry—I’ve got plenty more waiting.”
Still not satisfied, she kicked my bag until my books spilled across the floor. Only then did she and her cronies leave, each throwing me a mocking glance as they went.
Once they were gone, I sagged and gathered my things. At least the books weren’t ruined. I still needed them for the library.
The library—my one safe haven. The only place in this academy that felt equal.
I wasn’t broken. If I remembered right, one of Herbology’s exams involved underwater practice. If that was true, someday, Selena would learn exactly what helplessness felt like.
My fingers brushed the top shelf, reaching for a heavy book. Instead, I touched someone else’s hand.
A jolt of electricity shot through me, sparking into my chest, my soul. The lights above flickered.
And then I saw his face.
He froze too.
The same boy who had defended me at the opening ceremony. The handsome one.
- Writer
