Chapter 38 The First Test
POV: Mina (Age 18 - Dawn, Council Attack)
I don't run.
The alarms scream across the Academy grounds, students scrambling for defensive positions or simply fleeing, faculty shouting orders that no one follows, chaos spreading like wildfire.
And I stand at the window of the Oracle chambers watching fifty Council hunters spread through the grounds with military precision, silver weapons glinting in the dawn light.
Fifty trained killers versus one newly awakened Oracle who's had her power for less than twelve hours.
The odds should terrify me.
They don't.
Through the bond I feel the Trio's immediate violent response. Their wolves surging forward with a need so overwhelming it drowns out everything else. Not a choice. Not a decision. Just absolute imperative.
Protect mate.
Jax is already moving toward the door, his body shifting mid-stride, the golden wolf emerging with the kind of speed that says his human mind has completely lost the argument with his wolf.
Logan follows half a second later, black fur rippling across his frame, his wolf snarling with barely contained violence.
Asher shifts last but no less inevitably, silver-grey fur replacing human skin, his elegant precision translating into wolf form.
All three of them positioning themselves between me and the door. Between me and the threat. Their wolves in complete agreement for the first time since the bond completed.
Through the bond I feel their human consciousness still present, still aware, still absolutely furious about what's happening.
Jax's thought comes through clearly, sharp with rage and self-loathing.
I hate this. I hate YOU.
The words hit like physical blows. Raw and honest and stripped of any attempt to soften them.
"Then leave," I say quietly.
Logan's wolf snarls, his human mind pushing through enough to form words through the bond.
Can't. Wolf won't let us.
His tone is furious and desperate and trapped. His wolf has taken over completely, driven by mate bond imperative that overrides everything his human mind wants.
Asher's thought follows, carrying that calculating precision even through his wolf's instinct.
What did you do to us?
"I didn't do anything," I tell them flatly. "The Moon Goddess did. The prophecy did. The mate bond did. I'm just the person you're stuck with."
Through the bond I feel their wolves bristling at my tone, their human minds caught between fury at being trapped and desperate need to protect me anyway.
The first Council soldiers reach the Oracle chambers.
I hear them in the corridor, heavy boots, military formations, the sound of silver weapons being readied. Fifty hunters spread through the Academy but at least ten of them are coming here, straight for the Oracle chambers where the informants told them I'd be.
The Trio's wolves hear them too. All three go completely still in that predator way, every sense focused on the door, waiting.
The door explodes inward.
Not opened. Blown off its hinges with some kind of explosive charge, the ancient wood splintering, protective runes flaring and dying as Council magic overwhelms them.
The Trio attacks before the smoke clears.
Golden, black, and silver-grey wolves pouring through the destroyed doorway with savage efficiency, their movements coordinated in ways that shouldn't be possible for wolves who've known each other for years, let alone wolves connected through a bond that's hours old.
But the mate bond doesn't need time to coordinate. It works faster than thought, faster than planning, each wolf instinctively knowing where the others are and what they're doing and how to work together to protect what matters.
The corridor erupts into violence.
I watch from the doorway as they tear through Council soldiers with a brutality I've never seen from them. Not the calculated cruelty they used on me. Not the dominance displays they used on other students.
This is something else. Something primal and absolute and terrifying.
Logan's black wolf is the most direct, going straight for throats, crushing windpipes, his massive jaws powerful enough to snap necks. His fighting style is brutal efficiency, no wasted movement, just kill and move to the next target.
Asher's silver-grey wolf is precise, going for hamstrings and arteries, bringing soldiers down and leaving them to bleed while he moves to the next threat. His elegance translates into something deadly, each strike perfectly placed for maximum damage.
Jax's golden wolf is the largest and the most controlled, his attacks strategic even in the midst of chaos. He positions himself between me and the largest concentration of soldiers, creating a barrier that forces them to go through him to reach me.
Silver weapons flash. The Trio's wolves dodge most of them but not all. I feel it through the bond when blades connect, when silver cuts into flesh, when pain spikes through all three of them simultaneously.
They don't stop. Don't slow down. The mate bond won't let them. Their wolves push through pain that should drop them because mate is in danger and nothing else matters.
Council soldiers die.
Not all of them. Some retreat, realizing the corridor is a death trap, falling back to regroup. But enough die that the floor is slick with blood and the air reeks of violence.
Through it all, I stand in the doorway and watch.
Cold. Unmoved. Letting three wolves who tortured me for months now kill for me instead.
The battle shifts as more soldiers arrive, reinforcements flooding the corridor from both directions. The Trio's wolves are surrounded, outnumbered, bleeding from multiple wounds.
Through the bond I feel them fighting anyway. Feel their wolves certain that retreat means mate dies. Feel their human minds screaming at the futility but unable to override instinct.
I could help. Could use Oracle power to end this in seconds. Could drop every Council soldier the way I dropped every wolf at the ceremony.
I don't.
I watch as the mate bond forces them to fight. Forces them to bleed. Forces them to protect me whether they want to or not.
Let them feel what being forced feels like.
The battle ends when the soldiers realize they can't get through three mate-bonded wolves without losing too many people. Some tactical decision gets made and they fall back, dragging their dead and wounded with them, leaving the corridor soaked in blood and littered with silver weapons.
The Trio's wolves stand in the wreckage, sides heaving, blood matting their fur. All three wounded. Logan's black fur is torn along his shoulder. Asher has a deep cut across his flank. Jax is bleeding from multiple smaller wounds.
Through the bond I feel their pain. Sharp and immediate and impossible to ignore because the mate bond makes their injuries mine.
Their wolves turn to look at me. All three simultaneously. Seeking something. Approval maybe. Comfort. Acknowledgment that they protected mate successfully.
Their human minds are still present enough to hate that they're doing it. To hate that they need it. To hate me for watching them bleed.
I feel all of that through the bond too.
I keep my face cold. Keep my voice steady.
"Clean yourselves up," I tell them. "We leave for the vault in ten minutes."
Through the bond I feel their shock. Their wolves' confusion at being denied comfort. Their human minds' fury at being dismissed.
Jax shifts back to human, his golden wolf dissolving into a man covered in blood and clutching a wound in his side that's still bleeding. His ice-blue eyes when they find mine are filled with something raw and complicated.
"You're really not going to—" he starts.
"You wanted me broken," I cut him off. My voice is quiet and cold and absolutely certain. "Now you're broken. How does it feel?"
Through the bond I feel the words land. Feel them understand what I'm doing. What this is.
Payback. Cold and deliberate and using their own mate bond against them.
Logan shifts back, one hand pressed against his shoulder wound, his blue eyes blazing with fury. "You're using us."
"You used me for four months," I tell him flatly. "I'm just returning the favor."
Asher is the last to shift back, silver blood running down his side from the flank wound. His shields are still shattered, everything he feels visible on his face. Pain and guilt and desperate need for comfort that I'm deliberately withholding.
"The bond makes us protect you," he says quietly. "You know that. You know we don't have a choice."
"I didn't have a choice for four months," I remind him. "Every blow. Every humiliation. Every moment you made my life hell. I didn't choose that either."
Through the bond I feel them processing that. Feel the forced empathy showing them what their logic sounds like from my side. Feel their guilt deepen.
Their wolves are whimpering. Actually whimpering, desperate for comfort from mate, desperate for acknowledgment that they did well, desperate for anything except this cold dismissal.
I force myself not to feel it. Force myself to stay cold even though the bond makes me feel their pain like my own.
Ten minutes. Then we move.
"The vault?" Jax asks, his voice tight with pain he's trying not to show.
"The Keystone is there," I tell him. "We get it. We leave. Before the Council regroups and comes back with more soldiers."
"You're going to use us as your guards," Logan says. Not a question. An accusation.
"Your wolves are going to guard me whether I want them to or not," I correct. "The mate bond ensures it. I'm just being honest about it instead of pretending it's something else."
Through the bond I feel Asher's mind working through that. Feel him recognizing the truth in it. Feel him hating that I'm right.
"Ten minutes," I repeat. "Then we go. Try to stop bleeding before then."
I turn away from them and walk back into the Oracle chambers, leaving them standing in a blood-soaked corridor processing what just happened.
Through the bond I feel their wolves' confusion and hurt. Feel their human minds' fury and guilt. Feel the mate bond pulling at all of us, demanding closeness and comfort and everything I'm deliberately denying.
Let them feel what being denied feels like.
I have a mission to complete. A prophecy to fulfill. A brother to honor.
And three Alphas who are bound to help me whether they want to or not.
The irony would be satisfying if the bond didn't make me feel their pain like my own.