Chapter 157 157

Chapter 157 157
  MILLICENT 
  After the professor had said his part, a chorus of “yes sir” echoes through the hall.
  “As for pairing—” he starts, raising a clipboard, “I’ll assign partners. No negotiating.”
  The room fills with groans, whispers, everyone already panicking about who they’ll get stuck with. I’m too busy trying to keep my breathing normal because my head is still replaying the moment Liam grabbed me. The smell of that hallway. The bruise on his jaw. The way his voice had dipped when he said “enough.”
  I blink hard, trying to push it away.
  The professor starts calling names. “Jay and Mira. Curtis and Gwen. Zayne—oh right, he’s off-campus—Aiden and Reese—”
  Xander bumps my shoulder lightly, whispering, “You okay?” I nod once. “Just tired.”
  He doesn’t believe me. I see it. But he lets it go again. The professor continues, pairing people faster now. “Xander and Milo.”
  Xander groans under his breath. “Of all people,” he mutters. I crack the tiniest smile at his misery because Xander actually enjoys combat class, but being paired with Milo means it'll end soon. Milo practically lays down on the floor himself and says “Xander wins,” because he is one lazy one. 
  But the moment fades the moment the door opens.
  I don’t know why I looked, maybe instinct. Maybe the leftover dread dragging at my ribs. But when I twist enough to see who walked in, the breath inside me stops.
  It’s Liam.
  He steps into the hall shoulders squared, jaw dark with the bruise that looks even worse under the bright lights. The same bruise Xander gave him. The same bruise I aimed for before he caught my wrist.
  His eyes sweep the room slowly.
  Then they land on me.
  And every muscle in my body goes tense, the air around me stretching thin like a wire that's about to snap.
  Combat class is already loud with people pairing up and dragging mats across the floor, but all I hear is the faint ringing in my ears as Liam stands there in the doorway staring straight at me like last night was a game we played and he’s waiting for round two. 
  Xander slides closer until his shoulder brushes mine and it makes it a lot better, just enough so I can breathe again. He leans in like he’s whispering about the weather but his voice is low and clipped, “Still no movement from the headmaster. Not even a fake investigation. That alone is weird as hell.”
  “So he is hiding something,” I mutter, eyes still on Liam because I can’t look away. “And Liam is at the center of it.”
  “Yeah.” Xander’s jaw flexes. “The file, the transfer approval, the headmaster not even pretending to care—something’s off. Way off.”
  “Zayne needs to hurry and get back,” I whisper. Xander snorts. “If he doesn’t, I might just drag the truth out of the headmaster myself.”
  I give him a look. “Please don’t get expelled the day after Zayne leaves.”
  He rolls his eyes like that’s a ridiculous thought, but before I can say more, Liam moves towards us. Like he wants the entire hall to see him walking toward us. His gaze locks with mine and I feel the room shrink, voices smudging into background noise. He looks like he didn’t sleep. He looks like someone who enjoyed every bruise on his jaw.
  Xander notices him approaching and shifts subtly, placing himself in front of me without asking. It’s instinct for him. Protection stitched into the bone.
  Liam stops a few feet away. “Beauty,” he says, ignoring Xander completely. “No,” Xander cuts in, stepping forward. “You don’t talk to her. Not today. Not ever.”
  Liam chuckles, an ugly sound that prickles across my skin. “Ah. The guard dog. Cute.” He tilts his head and his eyes flick to mine again. “I let you fuck around yesterday because I was being nice. I might lack the courtesy to do that today, Xander”
  Xander’s entire body tightens. “Take three steps back before I mop the floors with your face. Again.”
  Liam’s smile crawls wider. “You know… I said I was nice yesterday.” His gaze flicks to Xander’s knuckles. “I never said I was weak.”
  Xander shifts like he’s ready to swing, but something inside me snaps. Maybe it’s the leftover adrenaline from last night, maybe it’s the memory of his hand crushing mine, maybe it’s the image of Fiona’s bruise, maybe it’s all of it. I shove Xander aside, surprising even him.
  “You sure looked weak last night,” I spit out.
  Xander’s head whips toward me so fast I swear I hear his neck crack. “Last night?” he blurts in a whisper-gasp like he’s two seconds away from full-on interrogation mode.
  Liam’s eyes sharpen. Like he’s savoring this. “Weak?” he repeats slowly, leaning in just enough that I smell the faint copper of dried blood. “No beauty. I loved every second of the pain. Knowing your knees now know what the real thing feels like.”
  My stomach lurches. Xander snaps.
  Before I could wrap my head around the situation, Xander shoved him, violent and fast. His hands slamming into Liam’s chest hard enough to send him stumbling back.
  “Okay,” Xander growls, voice low and lethal. “Back the fuck up.”
  XANDER 
  I swear the universe has the dumbest sense of humor because the morning starts with me replaying every damn thing that happened yesterday like I’m watching some messy reality show I didn’t consent to star in. 
  After I saw the bruise my wolf took over. Liam had to run, else I'd have most definitely killed him. But what bothered me the most was how Fiona seemed worried for Liam and even stopped me from messing him up. 
  Then today he finally developed balls to face me. But I couldnt be completely mad about it when my mate had suddenly gotten protective. 
  She stepped in front of me like she was ready to burn the whole building down with her bare hands. And then the line he dropped—her knees. My teeth still grind when I think about it. I should’ve ripped his jaw off right there but no, I had to keep a leash on it because Milicent was already vibrating with fury and one of us needed a working brain.
  Combat class was supposed to calm me. Kick some freshmen around, keep an eye on Milicent while Zayne ran off to whatever lead he thinks will fix everything. But then Liam opened his mouth again, and every drop of patience I had evaporated on the spot.
  I’m still rolling my shoulder when he steps forward like he’s signing up for a death wish. He looks at me, at Milicent, at the professor, then back at me with that smugness that makes my fist itch.
  “Pair me with him,” Liam announces loud enough that half the class turns. The professor blinks, confused. Milicent jumps in fast, “Um… the professor chooses the pairs—”
  Liam holds up a hand like she’s background noise. “He’ll definitely make an exception. For the Alpha’s son.” He lets his voice drop. “Unless said Alpha heir is too bitch to face me.”
  The class goes quiet. My wolf bangs against my ribs. Milicent shoots me that look like please don’t, but of course, I’m gonna.
  I scoff, shoulder-check Liam as I walk past, and head straight to the professor. “Pair us.”
  The professor looks at me, then at Liam, then sighs like he already foresees filing an incident report. “Fine. But no shifting. No lethal strikes. You both break the rules, you’re both out.”
  I nod. Liam smirks. 
  Milicent gives me a look that says, "This is not going to end well."
  We hit the mat. At first it’s exactly what I expect. Easy. Too easy. I dodge every sloppy swing, sweep his legs, pin him twice just to prove a point. The crowd murmurs like it’s already decided because everyone knows how these things go, Alpha twin equals undefeatable.
  Then something shifts.
  He moves faster. Sharper. Stronger. Like he'd intentionally being easy on me just to turn the tables to humiliate me. The force behind his hits spikes like he was playing weak on purpose and now he’s bored of the act. He blocks my kick with a strength that rattles straight up my spine.
  Okay. Zayne might’ve been right. “Didn’t know you had this in you,” I mutter as we circle, keeping my tone light, diplomatic as I patiently pulled a Zayne.
  He shrugs. “Didn’t feel like putting on a show. You know how it is.” 
  “You from a pack that trains like this?” I push carefully. “Or did you pick it up after transferring?” He smirks like he knows exactly what I’m trying to do. “You mean you didn’t already find the answers in that empty file?”
  My pulse freezes. He knew. Bye bye diplomacy.
  “What are you playing at?” I growl, striking harder. “What do you want? Why come near us? Why her?”
  He laughs, low, mocking, sliding past my punch like he’s dancing. “I don’t know, Xander. Isn’t it obvious?” He leans close, voice dropping to poison. 
  “She’s juggling two mates who get to fuck her on a daily basis. I’m fine being the once-in-a-while sneaky link who shows her what sex could actually be.”
  All I saw was red.
  I don’t think. I swing at him hard. But he’s ready.
  He catches my wrist, twists, slams his elbow into my ribs so hard the air punches out of me. The crowd gasps. 
  I recover fast but he’s faster, sweeping my legs and knocking me flat on the mat before I can even plant my foot again. His knee pins my chest with a weight that shouldn’t be possible for someone his size.
  And then... Silence.
  Because I lost.
  For the first time in my life, anyone ever bested me in hand-to-hand combat. Not a beta. Not a trained soldier. Liam.
  Even the professor’s staring like he’s questioning the laws of physics. Freshmen are whispering. My pride burns like acid. My wolf snarls loud enough my teeth ache.
  But the worst part?
  Milicent. She’s frozen in place, eyes wide, expression shattered with shock. 
  How? How did this just freaking happen?
  I don’t even get the chance to drag myself off the damn mat before the air shifts again. Very fucking fast, like a storm ripping straight through the walls. 
  One second Liam’s standing there catching his breath like he actually earned the right to, and the next someone yanks him back so violently his sneakers screech on the floor. The sound snaps through the room like a whip. Everyone jerks. Even I freeze.
  Then the hits start.
  Not soft, not controlled, not anything that belongs in a school combat class. Just raw, brutal punches, straight to Liam’s jaw, his ribs, his gut. 
  No spacing, no warning, no breath. The poor guy doesn’t even get a second to lift his hands. Every time Liam tries to stand, another hit knocks him right back down. The crowd scatters. Even the professor stumbles back like he’s suddenly regretting his career choices.
  The fists keep coming. Hard. Fast. Ruthless. 
  A kick sends Liam sliding across the mat, coughing blood. Another punch cracks so loud half the class flinches. Someone gasps. Someone else whispers a prayer. It’s like watching a wolf tear into something already half-dead, and no one moves because no one’s stupid enough to interfere.
  Liam collapses again, barely conscious, his cheek swollen, his breath ragged like his lungs are begging for mercy.
  And that’s when the voice rings out, icy and steady.
  “I’d have gone easier on your bitch ass if this was a casual combat.” A pause. A step. A shadow falling over Liam’s body. “But no one belittles my stupid brother except me.”
  Zayne.