Sera's Pov
Pain.
That was all I knew.
It pulsed through my body in waves, sharp and relentless, radiating from the wound in my abdomen. The scent of my own burnt flesh filled my nose, mixing with the metallic tang of blood.
I could barely focus on the sounds around me—the murmurs of the trainees, the whispers of disbelief and concern.
Silver.
It wasn't allowed.
Everyone knew that.
This was a training match, not a fight to the death.
And yet Enzo had still used it.
An instructor stepped forward, his expression thunderous. "This match is over—"
But a voice cut through the noise.
Cold. Commanding.
Lucian.
"No."
Everything stilled.
The instructor hesitated, as if unsure whether he had heard correctly. "But Alpha—"
Lucian's chair creaked as he leaned forward slightly, his sharp golden eyes fixed on me. "If your little boyfriend," he drawled, "can torture his opponent, then you can endure a little pain, can't you?"
The words barely registered.
But the mocking tone did.
My stomach twisted.
I wanted to glare at him, wanted to say something, but all I could do was grit my teeth, forcing my body to move despite the agony threatening to drag me under.
I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me break.
Slowly, I pushed myself up.
The world spun.
I could feel the blood dripping down my abdomen, soaking into my clothes, hot and sticky.
I swayed slightly, my vision tunneling—but I didn't fall.
Lucian's lips curled into something that almost looked like approval.
Enzo, on the other hand, looked relieved.
Lucian hadn't called him out. Hadn't punished him for using an illegal weapon.
Which meant he could keep fighting.
Which meant he could win.
His stance shifted, shoulders squaring, and then he charged.
I barely had time to react before his fist slammed into my ribs.
Pain burst through me, sharp and suffocating.
I stumbled back, barely keeping my balance.
He couldn't use the silver spear anymore—technically, that would make the fight lethal—but he didn't need to.
He had already wounded me.
He just had to make me bleed out.
And he was good at it.
He moved fast, relentless.
A kick to my knee, making it buckle.
An elbow to my jaw, sending stars bursting across my vision.
Another hit to my abdomen, right where the wound was, making agony rip through me.
I gasped, nearly collapsing again.
I could barely hold my sword.
I couldn't get myself back.
Think, Sera. Think.
I couldn't lose here.
I had trained too hard, pushed myself too far.
I refused to let it all be for nothing.
I forced myself to focus, to ignore the pain as best as I could.
Enzo was strong—stronger than me. But he had a weakness.
Tiredness.
He had trained all of yesterday. And this fight had dragged on much longer than he expected.
I had to use that.
I forced my eyes to track his movements.
Look for openings.
Wait.
Enzo lunged—faster than before, but not as fast as when we started.
That was my chance.
I ducked, dodging the hit at the last second—
And then moved.
My blade flashed, slicing through the air—
And sank into his ribs.
Enzo's body jerked.
A strangled sound tore from his throat—a mix between a gasp and a growl.
For a second, he didn't move.
Didn't react.
And then—
He howled.
The sound of it echoed across the training grounds, raw and filled with pain.
But I didn't stop.
I couldn't.
I wrenched the blade free, twisting as I moved, using every last ounce of strength I had left—
And slammed the hilt of my sword into his temple.
His body went limp.
He crumpled to the ground, motionless.
The fight was over.
I had won.
The realization barely settled before my knees buckled.
The world tilted.
Everything blurred.
The last thing I saw before the darkness took me—
Was Lucian, watching.
Expression unreadable.