The Top Boy Is My Mate

Chapter 14: Brother’s war

Zara’s POV

The training field today was nothing like I expected. No rows of neat benches or polished mats. Just jagged ground, and a ring of stone that pulsed faintly with ancient magic. Students gathered around its edge like vultures, breathless and hungry for drama. I was one of them, standing with Talia, still chewing the last of my apple, trying to make sense of the tension thickening in the air.

“Combat class today,” she muttered beside me, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Something’s off.”

Something was always off at Blackwood. But this time, I agreed.

The instructor, a broad-shouldered man with gray stubble and a jagged scar running down his neck, paced the center of the ring. He had the kind of presence that made even the cockiest vampire shut up. I hadn’t learned his name, he never gave one. Everyone just called him the Hunter.

“Today’s a sparring day,” he barked, voice like steel. “We settle things with fists, not teeth. No shifting. No magic. I want blood, not bones.”

He turned slowly, eyes scanning the students. They landed on me for a second too long before snapping away.

“Volunteers?” he asked. He never needed to though. He already knew who he wanted.

Silence.

Then he grunted. “Fine. Atlas King. Jace King. In the ring. Now.”

The reaction was instant.

Gasps. Whispers. Someone even dropped their training blade.

Talia’s mouth fell open. “Did he just—?”

“Yeah,” I breathed. “He did.”

Atlas stood on the other side of the circle, arms folded, jaw clenched so hard it could’ve snapped steel. His storm-gray eyes lifted slowly to meet Jace’s, who, until now, had been lounging against a stone pillar like this was all beneath him.

And maybe it was.

Jace straightened, pushing off the wall with quiet grace. He was on a black training shirt, his dark hair swept back effortlessly. He didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. His smirk said enough.

Atlas rolled his shoulders. “This is a mistake.”

“No,” the Hunter replied. “This is overdue.”

I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until Talia nudged me. “You okay?”

“Peachy,” I said, though my heart was a riot of confusion. What were they to each other? Enemies? Ex-lovers(they were literally acting like one)? Something worse?

Atlas stepped into the ring first, his boots crunching the cracked ground. The moment he crossed the glowing runes etched into the stone, something shimmered in the air. A silence spell. Nothing that happened in there would reach beyond it.

Jace followed slowly, eyes locked on Atlas. His steps were deliberate, measured.

The Hunter raised one hand. “This is not a brawl. It’s a demonstration. Control, strength, precision. First to yield.”

Neither responded. The hand dropped.

Jace didn’t move. Atlas did.

He surged forward, fast and silent, a quick movement with his shadow and muscle. His fist connected with Jace’s shoulder, not the face. More like he was….Testing. Jace absorbed the blow, pivoted, and countered with a jab to the ribs. Atlas grunted, but didn’t falter.

They circled.

I felt the shift. Something deeper than combat. Resentment. Anger. Betrayal. Not spoken, but lived.

“You’ve gotten sloppy,” Jace said, his voice just barely reaching us through the shimmer.

“You’ve gotten soft,” Atlas replied, then struck again.

Fist to jaw. Jace staggered, lip bleeding.

The crowd murmured.

The fight escalated quickly. No magic, but every movement reeked of power. Atlas fought quickly, wild, and unpredictable. Jace moved like a blade, cold, and calculated.

And somehow, Jace kept smiling.

“You always were jealous,” Jace muttered as he dodged a blow meant to shatter his nose. “Even when we were kids.”

Huh?

Atlas roared, the sound lost to the barrier, and lunged. He tackled Jace to the ground, fists raining down.

“I’m not a child anymore!” Atlas growled.

Jace twisted, kicked up, and threw him off. “Then stop acting like one.”

They both rose, panting, bloodied.

Atlas spat blood. “You think just because Father paraded you around like some golden heir, you’re better?”

Wait…is this what I’m thinking?

“I don’t have to think it,” Jace replied. “I am.”

The punch Atlas threw then wasn’t controlled. It wasn’t trained. It was personal and it landed hard.

Jace staggered, eyes flaring gold for a split second. He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and straightened.

Then he smiled. “There’s the little brother I remember.”

Someone, get my jaw on the floor! Jace and Atlas are brothers?!

Atlas screamed and charged, but before he could land the next hit, the Hunter stepped between them. His arms slammed outward, sending both boys skidding back with invisible force.

“Enough,” he growled. “Sparring match is over. You’ve both proven your point.”

They stood, chests heaving, eyes locked.

Point proven? No.

Point made: They hated each other.

The barrier shimmered and dropped.

The moment it did, the arena erupted in whispers.

“What the hell was that?”

“Did you see Jace smile after that punch?”

“Brothers? Are you serious?”

Talia leaned in close. “That’s going to be the talk for a month.”

I didn’t answer, my jaw was on the floor, in fact my mouth was wide open in shock. I couldn’t stop staring at Atlas, his knuckles scraped raw, his jaw tight, his face unreadable.

Jace passed me on his way out of the arena, not even glancing at me.

Atlas followed a beat later, brushing past me. But then, he stopped.

“Zara,” he muttered without looking at me.

“What?” My voice was sharper than I meant.

He hesitated. “Stop staring at him.”

My eyes narrowed. Is this boy okay? “I look at who I want,” I replied.

He looked over his shoulder then, just enough for me to see the blood on his lip. “Right.”

Then he walked off, shoulders tense, fists still clenched.

I stood there, staring after him, heart pounding. Whatever was between them, whatever history bled through those fists, it wasn’t just family drama.

It was a war. And I had a front-row seat.

…

Later that afternoon, the gossip grew like smoke across campus. I passed groups of students muttering under their breath.

“He nearly broke his brother’s jaw.”

“Did you see Jace’s smile? Like he wanted it.”

“They didn’t even use magic. That’s how pissed they were.”

Someone even whispered that the King family was divided, two heirs, only one throne.

Talia and I sat beneath the willow tree near the east wing. She peeled an orange, brows furrowed.

“This school’s a soap opera,” she muttered.

I nodded, still quiet.

“You’re too quiet,” she added. “Spill.”

I looked at her. “Jace kissed Alex.”

Her brows shot up. “You mean your old best friend Alex? The new girl?”

“Yup.”

“Before or after she stabbed you in the back?”

“Before. Maybe during. Who knows.”

Talia leaned back, whistling. “And now he’s here. Wow. You’ve got drama magnets.”

“I’m cursed,” I muttered.

“Not cursed,” she corrected. “Targeted.”

I frowned. “By who?”

Her voice dropped. “That’s what we need to find out.”

I didn’t answer. I was too busy thinking about Atlas.

Not the way he fought. Not even the rage in his eyes.

But the way his voice cracked just slightly when he said, “Stop staring at him.”

What’s his business with who I stare at?