My Two Alpha Mates

Chapter 5

"Time for the Vetting," the Commandant's voice was like grinding stone, devoid of all inflection. He scanned the room, his eyes as cold and dead as a void-shark's. "You are in gray fatigues because you are less than zero. You have not earned Citadel black. The bottom twenty percent of this intake will be culled and ejected at the end of the second week. I suggest you take this seriously."

He gestured to a roped-off square in the center of the barracks floor. "Today's assessment measures the one thing you will not survive here without: combat potential. Cassian Valerius! Kaelen Hest! You're up. Submission or incapacitation."

The Aegis Citadel was famous for its advanced psycho-linguistic programming, its data warfare simulations, its state-of-the-art tech. And our first assessment was a fist fight?

The match was over shockingly fast, but not in the way I expected. The other recruit, Hest, was a brawler. He came in swinging, all rage and muscle. Cassian didn't. He moved like a dancer, all lethal, economic motion. He didn't just dodge; he flowed. A block, a redirect, a brutal, precise strike to the solar plexus that had Hest on his knees, gasping. A second strike, a thud of a boot to the man's side, and it was over. Cassian stepped back, not even breathing hard, his face a mask of cold discipline.

When Ronan Varrus was called, I felt a genuine spike of clinical fear. Varrus didn't "dance." He didn't "flow." He was a force of nature. He stalked his opponent, took a wild punch to the jaw as if it were a mild breeze, and then grabbed the other man. It was… it was brutal. He didn't use technique; he used gravity. He slammed the recruit into the floor, and the match was over. I bit my lip, my mind clinically assessing the sheer, terrifying force-on-force physics of the man.

And then, to my horror, I heard my own new name.

"Lyr Corvus! Jace Nyland!"

My jaw just dropped. My blood went colder than the mountain air. Gods, I was such an i***t. I had been standing here, analyzing. I'd been running threat assessments, calculating force-to-mass ratios, and I never once, not once, considered the fact that I would have to do this.

I groaned internally, realizing I’d slipped right back into my Princess protocols. I was Lyra Valerius, the strategist in the command center, used to observing the fight, not participating in it.

"Let's go, Corvus!" one of the sergeants snapped when I didn't move.

Cassian, next to me, didn't shove me. He didn't even look at me. He just sighed, a sound of pure, bone-deep frustration. From my other side, Zayd's voice was a low, cold whisper in my ear. "Recruit. Move."

Frantic, I stumbled forward into the square. Jace Nyland was already there, bouncing on his feet, his fists up. As he took a fighting stance, and I finally registered that I was supposed to hit him, the recruits all around us started to shout and whistle, the sound echoing off the metal bulkheads.

"Come on!" Nyland shouted, urging me forward. "Let's go!"

But I just stood there, paralyzed, my mind empty.

Someone let out a sharp, uproarious laugh and then bellowed, "The Runt's terrified!"

Others picked it up. A new chant began, low and rhythmic. "Runt! Runt! Runt!"

This, somehow, spurred me on. The humiliation, the condescension. It finally got my primal instinct to pay attention to something besides the insane paradox that had happened this afternoon. Two men. Two scents. Two Assets.

Destroy him, my instinct growled, stalking forward within me. Show them all.

And so, I started to move. I curled my lips back in a snarl I didn't know I possessed, raising my own fists the way Zayd and Cassian had drilled into me, and I lunged—

Everything went black.

When I opened my eyes, I saw Zayd staring right at me, peering again over the edge of my bunk. He wasn't smirking. His face was a clinical, unreadable mask. "Hey there, Runt," he said, his voice flat. "Status report? You took a solid hit."

I opened my-mouth to say something, but a white-hot flare of pain shot from my jaw to my temple.

"Ith it..." I slurred, my voice all wrong from my poor, injured face, which I raised a hand to gingerly touch. My nose felt… massive. "Ith it bwoken?"

Zayd took a moment to press my nose between his thumbs, pushing at it experimentally. It hurt, but it was a dull, distant pain compared to my jaw. I gasped and winced, but he shook his head. "No. But your septum is deviated. You'll have a hell of a shiner. And you've probably got a hairline fracture in that jaw."

Well, also. I couldn't smell anything. Not with my nose this messed up.

So, I had no idea which of these recruits were…

Gods, I couldn't even think the word.

Assets! my primal instinct supplied, gleefully. It was dancing around inside me, completely ignoring my pain. Your Assets! Both of them! Get up! Let me take over! I can smell them, even with this! I can find them!

I scowled, ignoring it and closing my eyes again, wishing I was still unconscious.

A few minutes later, though, my rest was interrupted by something landing on my pillow that made me jump. I gasped, opening my eyes, and scowled at the gray, cellophane-wrapped nutrient bar and a water bottle. A small foil packet of pain-blocs was tucked beside it.

"You okay, Lyr?" Cassian asked quietly. I jumped a little, seeing him standing where Zayd was before, peering at me. His face wasn't clinical. It was furious.

"No, I'm dying," I sighed dramatically, collapsing back onto my pillow.

"That breaks our pact," he said, his voice a low growl. He shoved me lightly on the shoulder. "You die, I kill you. And if you don't, Father will, for compromising the entire Lineage. We can't do that to him."

I smirked, a small, pained laugh that made my jaw throb. "Hey," I said, suddenly remembering I missed the main event. "Did you win?"

Cassian just gave a casual, angry shrug, but Zayd popped up behind him. "Of course he won," Zayd said. He didn't loop a proud arm around Cassian. He just nodded, like it was a fact. "You should have seen the animal he had to take out in the final, Lyr," he continued, his eyes alight with a rare, thrilled spark.

"You're being dramatic," Cassian murmured, shrugging Zayd off, but he couldn't keep the corners of his lips from turning up in a grim smile.

"No, seriously," Zayd said, leaning in. "He was... bigger than Cassian. Maybe not as tall, but… denser. Pure, brutal muscle. You could tell he had zero formal training, but he just went into his fights like a damn madman—"

"Really?" I asked, curious, pushing myself up on one elbow. "Which one was it?"

"That big Varrus-brute over there," Zayd murmured, pointing across the room. I saw him instantly. Who couldn't? He was massive. He was hunched over on his bunk, looking down at the floor, his arms resting on his knees. He wasn't stoic. He wasn't disappointed. He was just… still. Utterly, unnervingly still. His dark hair fell in his face, and he made no move to push it away.

"You beat Ronan Varrus?" I asked, turning shocked eyes on my brother.

"Don't sound so surprised," Cassian snapped, frowning at me, offended.

I laughed, a sharp, painful bark, and leaned over to give him a shove on the shoulder. "You're right," I said, pitching my voice into a high, deranged-fanboy squeal, teasing him. "No one can beat Cassian Valerius!"

Zayd actually snorted, turning to watch Cassian turn red as he scowled.

"Eat up," Cassian muttered as he hopped down from the bunk. "And take the pain-blocs." Then he hesitated, looking over his shoulder, and leaned in to whisper. "The sanitation block is communal. All open. I don't think you should go in there. At all. All right?"

"I'll go in the morning," I said, my voice thick. I grabbed the cold-water bottle and pressed it to my swollen jaw, moaning a little at the instant relief. "I'll get up at 0300. Before anyone else."

"Okay. Wake me. I'll come with you."

"No," I said, shaking my head. "You need sleep. It’ll be fine."

"Just wake me," my brother growled.

I nodded to appease him and leaned back against my pillow with a groan.

Fine, my primal instinct growled as I drifted off, displeased. But tomorrow, we're finding them!

Unfortunately, as fate would have it, tomorrow was too long to wait.