The immortal's queen

Chapter 10: Training class

The training hall smelled like sweat, polished floors, and collective suffering.

I stood near the edge of the group with Noemi, arms crossed, trying to look like someone who belonged there and not like someone already calculating the fastest route back to bed.

Physical training. Power control. Public embarrassment. Truly the holy trinity of academy life.

Instructor Voss paced in front of us, broad-shouldered and permanently unimpressed. He looked like the kind of man who thought smiling was a form of weakness.

“Today is paired suppression and focus work,” he announced. “You will maintain control while under distraction. If your ability leaks, you fail the exercise.”

Fail. My favorite word. We meet again.

Noemi leaned closer. “Try not to read the entire room this time.”

“I make no promises,” I whispered back. “My brain has a mind of its own. Ironically.”

We were split into pairs. Of course, because the universe has a sense of humor, I ended up across from a boy with a concentration ability, someone whose entire power revolved around mental pressure.

Perfect. Pair the unstable mind reader with the human migraine generator.

“Begin,” Voss ordered.

I closed my eyes and reached for the mental wall Darian had been forcing me to build all week. For a few seconds, it held. The noise of the room dulled. Thoughts became distant, like voices behind glass.

Then the pressure hit.

It wasn’t loud at first. Just a push. Then another. My partner was testing the edge of my control on purpose, exactly as instructed.

Stay closed. Stay quiet. Be a locked door. Be emotionally unavailable. Be Theo.

A crack formed.

A stray thought slipped through.

*She’s going to break first.*

My jaw tightened.

Rude. Accurate. Still rude.

I forced the wall back up, shoulders stiff, breath controlled. Around us, other students were already struggling. Someone’s power sparked against the floor. Another student staggered.

“Hold your control,” Voss barked. “If you cannot function under pressure, you are useless in the field.”

Inspirational. Really. Someone put that on a poster.

The pressure increased.

My temples started throbbing. The wall trembled. More thoughts pressed in from the sides — not just my partner’s now, but fragments from the students nearest to us.

*Don’t fail in front of her.*

*Voss is watching.*

*Is that the new girl again?*

My fingers curled into fists.

Get out of my head! All of you! This is not a group project!.

A sharp spike of pain cut behind my eyes. My control slipped hard.

“You’re scared of failing,” I muttered under my breath before I could stop myself.

My partner flinched. “What?”

I opened my eyes. “Nothing.”

Too late. His expression had already changed.

From across the room, I felt eyes on me. Chloe, standing with her own pair, was watching with open interest. Not participating so much as evaluating.

Wonderful. The queen has front-row seats to my mental collapse.

“Reset,” Voss ordered. “Again.”

We started over.

This time I lasted longer. I counted breaths. I imagined slamming doors inside my head. I pictured every unwanted thought bouncing off steel.

It worked.

For about twenty seconds.

Then a wave of noise crashed through.

Too many voices. Too fast. My partner’s focus power slammed against my weakening wall, and the room flooded in.

I sucked in a sharp breath and staggered back a step.

“I can’t—”

The thoughts piled over each other, messy and loud. Someone’s insecurity. Someone’s irritation. Someone’s fleeting, useless opinion about my stance.

My knees nearly buckled.

“Enough,” Voss snapped.

The pressure cut off.

I stayed bent forward with my hands on my thighs, breathing hard, sweat cooling at the back of my neck. The headache bloomed slow and ugly behind my eyes.

Congratulations, Celine. You lasted long enough to almost pass out. Growth.

Noemi was at my side in seconds. “You good?”

“Define good.”

“Still standing.”

“Then yes. Barely.”

Voss stopped in front of me. His expression didn’t change much, but I could feel the judgment anyway.

“Your suppression is inconsistent,” he said. “You improve, then collapse. That pattern will get people hurt.”

Thank you for the encouragement. I’ll frame it.

“I’ll work on it,” I said.

“You will,” he replied. “Because if you don’t, you’ll be reassigned to more intensive monitoring.”

That was code for Theo.

Of course it was.

As the class broke apart, Chloe walked past close enough for only me to hear her.

“Careful,” she said lightly. “If you keep making a spectacle of yourself, people might think you want the attention.”

I didn’t look at her. “Lucky for me, I don’t take advice from people who need an audience to exist.”

Her steps paused for half a second before she moved on.

Noemi let out a low breath. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Eventually,” I said. “But with style.”

I rolled my shoulders and winced as the ache in my head pulsed again.

Training class. Control drills. Public struggle.

Another day in the academy.

And somewhere under the headache and irritation, one thought kept circling and refusing to leave:

If I don’t master this soon, Theo won’t need a reason to intervene again.