chapter 2

"Did you see her just now?" a student whispered, turning to Klerk with wide eyes. The classroom buzzed with murmurs, the tension still thick after Nix’s abrupt departure. Klerk sat frozen in his seat, his face pale and his hands trembling slightly. He felt like he’d just dodged a bullet—or worse, a charging Gaian warrior. If Vallary decided to snitch on him, he was done for. He should’ve remembered who her sister was. He should’ve known better. "Bro, are you okay?" another student asked, nudging Klerk’s arm. The boy’s voice snapped Klerk out of his daze, and he blinked, trying to regain his composure. "Yeah," Klerk muttered, his voice shaky. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. "Did you really see her just now?" the same student pressed, his tone a mix of awe and disbelief. Klerk’s jaw tightened. "Yes, that’s her," he said, his voice low. He gestured vaguely toward the door, as if Nix’s presence still lingered in the air. "Venix. Leader of the Black Horns. Of course I saw her." "I can’t believe it was really her!" a girl behind Klerk squealed, her excitement cutting through the tension. "She’s, like, a legend!"

Cloe finally snapped out of her own daze. The chatter in the classroom grew louder, and she could hear every word—every whisper, every gasp, every nervous laugh. Her green eyes narrowed as she stood from her chair, the legs scraping against the floor. She walked over to Klerk’s table, her steps deliberate and her expression unreadable. "You should know better than to cause a ruckus," Cloe said, her voice calm but laced with warning. Her gaze locked onto Klerk’s brown eyes, and for a moment, he felt like she could see straight through him. "Hey, what does it have to do with me?" Klerk replied, his tone defensive. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest in a feeble attempt to appear unfazed. "I didn’t start anything." "You almost fought with Vallary," Cloe shot back, her voice rising slightly. She paused, choosing her next words carefully. "And you know she’s..." "Unmarked?" Klerk interrupted, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. He leaned forward, his eyes glinting with a mix of arrogance and challenge. "Yeah, I know. What about it?" Cloe’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. "Know your place," she said, her voice sharp and cold. She wasn’t just defending Vallary—she was reminding Klerk of the hierarchy he seemed so eager to ignore. Klerk laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that echoed through the classroom. "Or what?" he asked, his smirk widening. He was pushing his luck, and he knew it, but he couldn’t help himself. Cloe’s calm demeanor only made him want to provoke her more.

Cloe’s eyes narrowed, her patience wearing thin. Klerk wasn’t someone she could easily intimidate, but he also wasn’t someone she could ignore. Her father, Orland Greyollf, was the wealthiest man in town, and while Cloe hated using her status to assert dominance, she wasn’t above reminding Klerk of the consequences of crossing her. "You’re pathetic, Klerk," Cloe said finally, her voice dripping with disdain. She turned on her heel and walked away, her red hair swaying as she headed for the door. The classroom fell silent, all eyes on her as she left Klerk sitting there, his smirk faltering. Klerk’s face burned with embarrassment, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. The other students exchanged glances, some stifling laughter, others whispering behind their hands. Klerk hated the feeling of being humiliated, especially in front of the entire class. As Cloe stepped into the hallway, she took a deep breath, trying to shake off the frustration bubbling inside her. She didn’t like confrontations, but she couldn’t stand by and let Klerk belittle Vallary—or anyone else, for that matter. Still, the encounter left a bitter taste in her mouth, —----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Stand up!" Nix’s voice echoed through the forest, sharp and commanding. Her words were like a whip, cutting through the stillness of the trees. Vall lay on the ground, her lip split and bleeding, her canines bared in a snarl of defiance. Her fists clenched around clumps of grass and mud, her knuckles white with effort. She wanted to fight back, to scream, to make Nix feel even a fraction of the pain she was enduring. But her body betrayed her, trembling under the weight of her sister’s relentless assault.

Nix didn’t wait for Vall to respond. Her fist connected with Vall’s stomach for the second time, the impact forcing the air from her lungs. Vall doubled over, tears streaming down her face as she clutched her ribs. She felt like she was going to vomit, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. Her vision blurred, her left eye swelling shut, but she could still see Nix’s silhouette looming over her, cold and uncaring. "I said stand UP !" Nix roared, her voice shaking the leaves above. She grabbed Vall by the collar of her shirt, yanking her off the ground with terrifying ease. Vall’s feet dangled in the air, her body limp and battered. Blood dripped from her nose and lip, staining Nix’s hand as she held her sister like a ragdoll. Vall wanted to fight back. She wanted to scream, to claw at Nix’s face until it bled. But she couldn’t. Her body was broken, her strength drained. All she could do was glare at Nix through her one good eye, her hatred burning brighter than ever. Nix didn’t flinch. Her expression was unreadable, her eyes cold and empty as she stared at Vall. Without a word, she drew her fist back and drove it into Vall’s ribs. The crack of breaking bone echoed through the forest, and Vall’s body went flying, slamming into a tree with a sickening thud. She crumpled to the ground, unmoving. Nix stood over her sister’s lifeless form, her breathing steady, her face devoid of emotion. She didn’t kneel to check on Vall, didn’t show even a flicker of concern. Instead, she stared down at her with a look of disgust, as if Vall’s weakness was an insult to everything she stood for. —--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cloe left the classroom, her heart pounding as she followed the faint trail of pheromones lingering in the air. She could feel Vall’s presence, faint and fading, and the sharp, metallic tang of blood. Klerk’s words were forgotten, drowned out by the urgency driving her forward. She had to find Vall. The small town of Woodway was surrounded by dense forests, their towering trees and winding rivers was a striking contrast to the bustling academy. Cloe moved quickly, her feet barely touching the ground as she sprinted toward the forest’s edge. The wind whipped through her hair, kicking up dust in her wake. She leaped onto the lower branches of a tree, her movements fluid and precise as she navigated the canopy. It didn’t take long for Cloe to find them. She spotted the clearing below, her sharp eyes catching the glint of Nix’s armor and the crumpled form of Vall lying motionless on the ground. Cloe’s breath hitched as she took in the scene—Vall’s shirt was soaked in blood, her face swollen and bruised, her body broken. "NO!" Cloe screamed, her voice tearing through the forest. She dropped from the tree, landing in a crouch before sprinting toward Vall. She reached her just as Nix raised her fist again, her body moving on instinct to shield her friend. Cloe knelt beside Vall, her hands trembling as she pressed them to Vall’s chest. She could feel Vall’s heartbeat, faint and erratic, and the shallow rise and fall of her breath. Cloe closed her eyes, focusing all her energy on the task at hand. Her hands glowed faintly as her healing powers surged through Vall’s body, mending broken bones and closing wounds with agonizing slowness.

"A healer?" Nix’s voice cut through the silence, her tone laced with curiosity. She stood a few feet away, her arms crossed as she watched Cloe work. There was no concern in her eyes, only a detached interest, as if she were observing an experiment rather than a life being saved. Cloe ignored her, her focus entirely on Vall. She couldn’t afford to lose concentration now. Healing was a delicate process, one that required every ounce of her energy. If she faltered, even for a moment, Vall could die. Gaians healers were rare, their abilities a gift from Mother Nature herself. Humans called them delta blood , a term born from their fascination with the difference in abilities between Gaians and themselves. During the Great War, humans had captured delta Gaians, dissecting them in a futile attempt to understand the source of their power. But they never succeeded. The gift of healing was something no human could replicate. Cloe’s hands glowed brighter as she poured more energy into Vall, her own breath growing shallow as the strain took its toll. She could feel Vall’s body responding, the broken bones knitting back together, the bruises fading. But it wasn’t enough. Not yet. Nix watched in silence, her expression unreadable. She had a healer in her own troop, but she never used their services. To Nix, scars were badges of honor, proof of her strength and resilience. She didn’t need healing. She didn’t need anyone. Finally, Nix turned away, her boots crunching against the forest floor as she walked toward the edge of the clearing. Without a word, she leaped onto a low branch and disappeared into the trees, leaving Cloe and Vall alone.

Cloe didn’t notice her leave. Her entire world had narrowed to Vall’s heartbeat, faint but steady, and the warmth of her own energy flowing between them. She didn’t stop until Vall’s breathing evened out, her body whole once more.

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