Chapter 5

SAMIEN'S POV

I remained on the ground for a few long moments, every part of my body

screaming in protest. The blow had destabilized me completely----my limbs felt

heavy, my head spun, and even breathing seemed like a chore.Around me, the crowd erupted in murmurs, and I could almost hear the

judgment in their whispers.

"You're such a weak ass, Roberts!" Mark's voice rang across the training ground,

sharp and cruel. Others joined in, jeering and laughing at my misfortune.

Anger flared within me, hot and consuming. Every ounce of humiliation, every

second of being pinned to the floor, fueled something deep inside.

With a groan and a surge of strength I hadn't known I possessed, I forced

myself to rise. Pain shot through my limbs like lightning, but I refused to let it

control me. My teeth clenched, and I glared at Mark with all the venom I could

muster.

"Let's get this done with, Mark," I spat, my voice low and dangerous. "You talk

too much for a man... and an Alpha."

A wry smile crept across his face. He chuckled, a low, almost teasing sound that

grated against my nerves. I could see the flicker of irritation in his eyes, and it

gave me a small, grim satisfaction.

"Get what done?" he said, circling me like a predator. "There's nothing left for

you to do but surrender. Keep going, and you'll only hurt yourself more."

"Say all you want," I shot back, my voice trembling slightly with fury, "but I will

never surrender to you."

With that, I lunged, throwing every ounce of my strength and determination into

the attack. I swung, struck, and ducked, moving as fast as my body would allow.

But it was no use. Mark's movements were too precise, too practiced.

In an instant, he had me pinned again, the world spinning as pain shot through

my shoulders. My arm twisted beneath his grip, creaking unnervingly under the

strain.

"Ahhh----" I cried out, the sound echoing across the ground, desperate and raw.

Instructor Dane appeared immediately, rushing forward to intervene, hisexpression hard and commanding. But Mark barely flinched, leaning close, his

eyes glinting with amusement.

"That was such fun," he sneered, his voice low and cruel. "I could do this all

day."

I clenched my fists tightly, willing my anger into control. If I let it consume me, I

would make a mistake that would only make things worse. Slowly, I forced

myself to retreat, my cheeks burning with shame.

I returned to my seat, my body heavy, my pride shattered. Around me, the other

students continued their sparring, the clang of blows and the cheers of victory

filling the air.

My lips pressed tightly together as I sat silently, trying not to let anyone see the

frustration that roiled inside me.

I was furious at myself. How could I allow myself to lose to Mark? The entire

month of training, every ounce of effort I had put in, and this one match, the

chance to prove myself, was wasted.

I scowled silently, letting the anger course through me. For the rest of the

matches, I sat quietly, nursing my bruised ego, my mind racing with thoughts of

revenge, strategy, and the bitter sting of failure.

Minutes later, a voice broke through my spiraling thoughts, jolting me back to

the present. One of the tutors' calls rang clearly across the hall, signaling the

end of the tournament. Slowly, I lifted my head, my heart thumping violently

against my chest.

This was it----the moment I had been waiting for. The moment when everyone

would see whether the last month of grueling work, of endless training and

pushing myself to the brink, had been worth it. Or if I was still just... nothing.

Silence fell over the training ground like a heavy blanket. Even the wind seemed

to pause, leaving only the sound of shallow breaths and the rustle of uniforms.All eyes turned to Instructor Dane, who stood at the front, his expression

unreadable, commanding attention with every subtle movement.

"And the last on the top twenty of outstanding performances today goes to..."

His pause stretched, drawing out the tension until I could feel my own pulse in

my ears. The crowd leaned forward slightly, eager, anxious, awaiting the

revelation.

"Top twenty position goes to... Roberts Scott."

I froze in my tracks, my mind spinning. Did I really hear my name, or was I

imagining things? There was no way----it couldn't possibly be me.

From over a hundred students, the odds were astronomical. My stomach

tightened, and my pulse raced as disbelief coursed through me.

Before I could even process the moment, hands grabbed my arms and lifted me

into the air. Loud cheers erupted around me, drowning out everything else.

The energy of the crowd was electrifying, almost surreal. I felt like I was

floating above the ground, carried by a sea of students whose excitement I

could hardly comprehend.

Was this some sort of prank? How could it possibly be true? Me... Roberts Scott...

ranked in the top twenty?

My mind immediately darted to my father. The thought of his expression if he

ever found out that his daughter----yes, daughter----had managed to rank in the

top twenty among a hundred Alpha aspirants made me grin.

He would probably be furious, worried, and shocked all at the same time. A part

of me imagined his face contorting with disbelief, maybe even muttering some

scolding words, and I chuckled quietly at the mental image.The students eventually set me down gently, the cheers fading slightly as they

stepped back. I blinked, still trying to ground myself in reality. Then I felt a

presence beside me, and my heart sank.

Mark. Of course it was him. His evil smirk stretched across his lips, sharp and

unnerving. "Who would've thought that someone like you would make it to the

twenty position," he said, his voice low but brimming with that familiar

arrogance.

He turned his gaze briefly to Ryker, who only smiled politely and said nothing.

Then Mark shifted back to me.

"Well, see you some other time, Roberts." With a quick motion, he landed a

punch squarely on my shoulder----the same shoulder he had injured during our

previous encounter. Pain flared sharply through me, sending a jolt of discomfort

up my arm.

"Are you nuts?" I shouted, my voice trembling with a mixture of anger and

disbelief as I glared at him. But he didn't even bother to look back. He

sauntered off casually, leaving me seething in his wake. I cursed under my

breath, my teeth clenched tightly as the sting of humiliation and pain lingered.

I considered returning to my room, but the increasing pain in my shoulder told

me that ignoring it would only make matters worse. If I didn't have it checked

immediately, it could escalate into something more serious.

With a deep, frustrated sigh, I pushed the thought aside and made my way

toward the Academy's clinic. The halls were quieter than usual, the echoes of my

footsteps the only sound accompanying me. I reached the clinic's door, my

hand trembling slightly as I gripped the doorknob. Twisting it slowly, I stepped

inside, letting out a shallow breath.

"Roberts Scott."

My body froze instantly. The voice----deep, controlled, and commanding----sent

chills down my spine. I raised my head cautiously, and my eyes widened as I

saw him."What's the problem? Why are you so silent?" His gaze bore into me, sharp and

dangerous. This wasn't the same type of menace I had grown accustomed to

from Mark; this was something different, far more intense. My lips parted

slightly, almost involuntarily, as I stammered.

"What... what are you doing... here, sir?"

His expression darkened at my hesitation, and his presence loomed like a

shadow in the room. "How dare you question me? Who do you think you are to

ask such a question?"

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. My head shook vehemently as I attempted to

steady myself. "I... I didn't mean to upset you. I was only surprised to see you

here. My apologies, sir."

He chuckled softly, a sound that was more unsettling than threatening. He took

a slow step closer, his eyes scanning me as if trying to unravel every secret I

had. I could feel my chest tighten and my stomach twist. There was something

off----something almost magnetic about his presence, yet unnerving in the same

breath.

"You seem to have something... fishy about you," he said, his words deliberate

and slow, leaving me frozen in place.

"Fishy?" I repeated, incredulous. What did he mean? I couldn't understand what

he was implying, and the uncertainty gnawed at me. I didn't like it, not one bit.

"Yes," he replied, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if testing my reaction.

"I'm confused, sir. What's fishy about me? I don't think I've done anything

wrong," I stammered, my pulse quickening. My heart thudded violently in my

chest, a mix of fear, curiosity, and unease bubbling up inside me.

He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "I'm not sure what it is,

but I am certain of one thing." He cleared his throat and, without another word,reached into his coat and pulled out a sealed envelope. With a swift motion, he

slammed it into my hands.

I stared at it, my fingers trembling slightly as I turned the envelope over and

over. "What... what's this?" I finally managed to ask, my voice almost a whisper.

"Nothing much," he said lightly, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Just a permission

letter signed and approved by the council of the Academy."

The words made my chest tighten. My mind raced. Permission letter? Council of

the Academy? Why did my stomach knot with dread at something that should

have been procedural?

"Wh... what is it for?" I asked cautiously, my voice barely audible.

He leaned back slightly, his piercing gaze still fixed on me. "A full medical

examination is required for you. And it will be carried out... tomorrow.

I hope you'll be ready for it," he sneered, his tone almost playful as he turned

and strode out of the clinic, leaving me alone with a pounding heart and the

envelope in my hands.