The medical station was quieter than I expected. Celeste worked on my shoulder wound in efficient silence while I sat on the examination table, trying to process what had just happened.
I'd won. Beaten Matthias Wicke in front of the entire academy. Proven I could fight.
And somehow made everything worse.
"Hold still," Celeste said, dabbing antiseptic on the cut. "It's not deep, but it needs proper cleaning."
"How bad is it politically?" I asked.
"Bad." Caleb leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Three council members just saw proof that you can draw Alpha-level power from Darius. They're terrified."
"Good. They should be."
"That's not the response we need right now." He moved closer, keeping his voice low. "Scared people make rash decisions. And the council has the authority
