RIVALS

15

"Rise and shine, Princess! We don't have all day!"

Evelyn's voice called from the hallway, preceded by a sharp rap on Aria's door. The familiar, jarring greeting made her grind her teeth.

She'd already been up and moving around long before Evelyn's demands, awoken early by the bright sun glaring through her window. She'd used the quiet, early morning to wash herself with cold water, dress in her combat leathers—just in case—and do some stretching that she had been sorely neglecting recently.

Evelyn's face revealed nothing as Aria opened the door not two seconds later. "Oh good," the panther said, eyeing Aria's tight brown leathers. "We have training today. Glad you came prepared."

Taren's head poked into the hallway from next door, their glowing smile filling their face. They waggled their brows. "Did someone say training?"

Aria grimaced at the thought, unsurprised that Taren seemed thrilled by the idea. She was pretty sure Taren had an addiction to low-stakes sparring. "Of course you would be excited," she said, stepping out into the hallway .

Taren laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. "What can I say? The heart wants what it wants."

Evelyn made a show of rolling her eyes before leading the two fae toward the dining hall for a quick breakfast of oats and fruit. The panther even astonished Aria by bringing them all cups of coffee. It was the first real sign that Evelyn might actually give them a chance.

After that, though, they all sat and chewed their food in relative silence until Taren inquired about Luka's whereabouts.

"You'll find out soon enough," Evelyn smirked. Aria absolutely, positively, did not like the sound of that.

Apparently on a mission to ruin her day, Taren kept prying. "Does it have anything to do with the fact you two were out so late?" They looked between Aria and Evelyn with a raised eyebrow and shoved another spoonful of oats into their mouth.

Aria shot her friend a warning look, but Evelyn wasn't phased. She just glanced lazily at Aria as she said, "Your little friend here decided to make a run for it last night and had to be escorted back to her room."

"Oh please," Aria dissented. "We both know that's not what happened." Before Taren could insinuate anything else, Aria added, "I went for a walk to the beach. That's all."

"Mhmm," Taren grunted.

"Were you truly outside my door all night?" Aria looked at Evelyn, who didn't answer. That was a yes, then. "How are you not exhausted right now?"

"You truly know nothing of our kind, do you? Panthers come alive at night." Evelyn glared with a provocative grin. But she took another long swig of coffee, which answered Aria's question. She looked at Taren, "And no, it has nothing to do with last night. Although now that you mention it, I suppose Aria could use a little punishment for her attempt to sneak away," Evelyn sneered at her. "Don't worry, Luka already knows about your little adventure. I'm sure he has something special planned for you on the mat."

Aria swallowed hard, nearly coughing up her latest bite. If she didn't like the sound of Luka's plans before, she really didn't like them now. But she had been trained by Taren—the best sparring partner in Allar—so whatever Luka had up his sleeve today, she was sure she could handle it. Even if she walked away with a few bumps and bruises.

Taren— the fucking masochist —cheered. Audibly whooped . Traitor, she thought. "It's been a long time since I've had a good challenge. What are we waiting for?"

Aria tried to protest but it was too late. Taren had already cleared all three of their bowls and headed toward the dirty dish container along the wall.

"Before you ask," Aria turned to Evelyn. "Yes, they're always like that."

Evelyn tried to hold back a laugh, but a little one escaped anyway. As the corners of Evelyn's lips tilted upward, Aria admired the way the joy—even a small dose of it—lit up Evelyn's face. It somehow changed her features from terrifying to intoxicating.

Evelyn pushed back from the table, none the wiser to Aria's thoughts, and led them toward the Legion Academy training yard. As they made their way down the hall and through the threshold, the yard opened up to dozens of shifters, all in their mortal forms, in various stages of combat.

Like the Allarian Training Institute, the shifters also had a part of the yard dedicated to combat training with a soft mat underneath to prevent injury. On the other side was a dirt ring meant for real-time sparring practice .

As they approached, an ongoing match commanded Aria's attention. A broad-shouldered, shirtless man whipped effortlessly around his enemy with a longsword. His form was immaculate, and the swift movements of his weapon generated a blur as he moved. The man wrapped his partner in a chokehold with the point of the sword at their throat.

A crowd looked on, but he was the only one she noticed. Aria followed the beads of sweat that dripped down his tufted stomach. She traced them up his wide chest, his neck, all the way to the moisture-tangled dark waves that framed his bearded jaw…

Oh gods , disgust racked its way through her. The pinned man tapped out and Luka wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his forearm. She refrained from emptying the contents of her stomach at the way she'd looked at him.

As he sheathed his weapon, he noticed Evelyn and the two fae hovering near the wall and gave a brief nod of acknowledgement. The dragon shifter beckoned them over to the ring where the audience continued to murmur approvingly at Luka's skillful demonstration.

At the sight of Aria and Taren's pointed ears, many of the shifters growled and dispersed. Luka mentioned they had been warned ahead of time about the fae's arrival, but apparently that didn't mean they had to be friendly about it, no matter what he'd told them.

"Ignore them," he instructed the fae at their response.

"Don't worry, we're used to being greeted with a cold shoulder," Aria glanced at Evelyn.

"You're lucky a fist to the face wasn't your first interaction," Evelyn retorted.

"Ladies, ladies," Taren interjected. "Save it for the mat, okay? "

Luka just gave them a sly smile. "That's exactly what I had in mind. What better way to work out our issues with each other than a good, old-fashioned sparring match?" He looked directly at Aria. "We're up first. Get warmed up. We'll start after the next match is done."

Aria balked. "Sorry, you and me?" She gestured between them with a frantic finger.

"Is that a problem?" Luka raised his brows at her as he wiped dirt from the pommel of his sword.

"Nope, just what I was hoping for, actually." Aria battled her face back to neutrality, but inside she was in a full-blown panic. Taren was much more closely matched to spar with Luka, and yet he'd chosen her. He probably weighed twice what she did, was twice as strong. She'd have to be clever. And fast. Grateful she'd stretched this morning, she cocked her head. "It'll finally give me a chance to wipe that stupid grin off your face."

"Come on," Taren grabbed her arm and took off in a jog, their role as trainer never ceasing. "Let's get those legs going. They need to catch up if you're going to run your mouth like that."

Aria pouted. "I thought you were supposed to be supportive."

"I am supportive of you, but I also know your limits," they said.

The two did a few laps around the yard, Evelyn never losing sight of them as she did her own warmups near the ring where two other shifters took their turn. Each lap, someone new was giving them death glares.

"What am I supposed to do?" Aria whispered to Taren between breaths.

"You use that chaotic energy of yours and surprise him," Taren replied calmly, somehow not panting at all. "Keep him on his toes. Literally. Get him off balance and try to knock him down." They gave Aria a confident smile. "Make him regret calling you a sprite."

Aria started to feel her energy rising, her blood pumping furiously in her veins. Taren was right. She'd played nice until now, tried to be the bigger person. But the sparring ring was where she could fight back and show that damned dragon shifter she was stronger than he gave her credit for. She could do this.

"I'll be there the whole time. I won't let him hurt you," Taren reassured her. Aria nodded in thanks. They neared the ring on their final lap as Luka made his way to the center of the white chalk circle drawn on the earth.

Aria unsheathed her dual daggers—smaller than most, made specifically for her by Allar's finest smith. They were lightweight and thin, making it easy for her to wield them effectively. Eye level with Luka's still-damp chest, Aria sized him up. You can do this, you can do this, you can do this.

"No magic?" she asked.

"No magic," he replied, his deep brown eyes revealing flecks of auburn in the sunlight. "Just you and me, Princess."

"Begin!" Evelyn shouted over the rumbles that brewed along the circumference of the ring, shifters pawing at each other to get a look at the match between the beloved Captain Fulgara and the hated Princess of Allar.

Taren rubbed their hands together eagerly, nervously, looking around the ring at the shifters hungry for Aria's defeat. They shouted to her, but Aria couldn't understand her friend's words of encouragement over the ringing in her own ears that drowned out everything else around her.

Luka closed the distance between them quickly—cockily—and lunged with his sword extended in front of him. But before he got to her, Aria felt his movements vibrate through the earth and dipped to the right, swerving around him until she faced his back. She couldn't use magic against him, but it's not like she could turn off her senses. A few ooh s came from around her, building her confidence.

He spun around and lunged again, almost clipping her side. She thanked the gods for her Erdanean blood as she predicted his advances once more. But this time, instead of avoiding his swing, she charged him.

The sudden movement surprised him, causing him to stumble backward, losing his balance. She barreled forward with renewed determination in her strategy, but he righted himself in time to take another swing.

Aria caught the blade of his sword with the flat side of one dagger, deflecting his advances just long enough for her to spin and swipe her second blade along his rib cage, nicking him as she finished her parry once again at his back. Serves him right for being conceited enough to spar with me shirtless, she thought.

As he turned, she eyed the sprawling, dark gray swirls tattooed along the length of his spine but didn't dare stop long enough to admire the artwork. The crowd erupted from all around them as a thin line of blood formed along Luka's side.

"Is that all you got, lizard boy?" She taunted from the opposite side of the ring, putting distance between them. He smirked at her in response and charged again.

Luka's embarrassment from the landed shot must have doubled his resolve because he wound up and swung for her with his full force. Aria formed a cross with her daggers to block his blade from connecting with her soft flesh, her muscles screaming in protest as their weapons locked.

She looked into Luka's eyes, his brows furrowed with exertion as he pushed her back, her feet sliding in the dirt as she dug deep for traction but found none. They were close to the chalk edge, and if he pushed her beyond it, he would win.

If she had been able to look around at the spectators, she would have found Taren doubled over, their hands on their knees, watching every movement with the intensity of a coach. Next to them, Evelyn stood with her arms crossed, committing every move of Aria's to memory. But Aria remained focused on the enemy in front of her.

I can't hold this forever, she realized, her arms shaking at the force of his pressure. She had to take a risk. Now or never , she decided, determined to try a move she'd been practicing for months with Taren.

All at once, she pulled back her daggers and shifted her feet to the left to miss his body and blade that fell toward her at the sudden lack of resistance. As she moved, she took her foot and swiped at the back of his legs, pulling his knees out in front of him and sending his back to the ground. His arm connected with hers as he braced to catch himself, the movement sending both her dagger and his sword skittering across the dirt out of reach.

Just as he connected with the earth, Aria pinned him, straddling his hips and shoving the point of her dagger into the soft underside of his chin. His throat bobbed against the tip.

"Yield," she commanded, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. The group gathered around them was silent. From awe, she hoped.

"I will never yield to a fae," he growled. "Especially not you, little sprite." Before he'd even finished his sentence, he grabbed her dagger-wielding wrist with his right hand and cupped her thigh with his left. He rolled them both until he landed on top of her.

Aria and Luka's heavy breathing mingled between them. Her weapon-bearing hand was now pinned to the ground above her head. Her legs were still wrapped around his hips as he kept a firm grasp on her thigh to keep her from writhing away. She tried anyway.

Despite him looming over her, she barely noticed his weight. He's being careful , she thought, her head dizzying from shortened breath. She strained against his grip with a grunt.

He leaned down, their faces nearly touching. "Yield," he snarled, his smoky breath burning her nose, their eyes locked in an uncompromising glare.

An idea came to her. She smiled. "You're not my captain, which means I don't have to follow your orders."

Luka looked up in shock as the earth rumbled below them. Aria took advantage of his brief moment of distraction and sent a pillar of earth barreling under Luka's knees with enough force that he was launched up and over her. Aided by a push with her free hand under his shoulder, he landed behind her head with a thump , once again on his back. Outside of the circle.

She won.

"Hey, no magic!" a cry came from the crowd.

"He should have yielded twice already anyway!" Taren yelled in defense of Aria, who stood and brushed the dirt from her leathers, sheathing her remaining dagger on her hip. She leaned over Luka, still recovering from having the wind knocked out of him. "Don't underestimate me again," she said, and moved to his side, extending a hand to pull him up. A sign of respect for a spar well fought.

He let out a weak cough. "Wouldn't dream of it, Princess."

***

Luka took Aria's hand, genuinely appreciative of the assistance considering the way his breath rattled through him. He should have known she wouldn't have played by the rules. And why should she? She had a lot more to prove right now than he did, though he had some work to do to evade the taunting that was sure to follow his defeat. He could already feel the way the energy shifted.

Luka looked around at his fellow Legion Academy warriors—some looking at him with pity, others furious at Aria's use of magic—and realized he needed to do some damage control.

"Relax, you sore losers. Taren's right, I should have yielded. My ego got the best of me," he said, grabbing the towel Evelyn extended to him. He'd barely felt the cut but looked down to assess the damage anyway. She could have easily stabbed him between the ribs, a potentially fatal wound. Instead, she had reminded him—with control and precision—that she was a skilled fighter.

The humming settled down at Luka's sincerity and Aria raised a brow, obviously surprised he had tucked his tail between his legs so quickly. But what could he say? He knew when he'd been bested. And it would only do more harm than good if he wallowed in it. He'd underestimated her, and that was that.

"You're up," he gestured for Taren and Evelyn to take their places in the circle. The two shared a glance and made their way past Luka as he wiped at the layer of sweat, dirt, and a bit of dried blood from the surface wound on his side.

Luka glanced at Aria quickly, who was also damp, but didn't seem to be in any pain. He wished he'd gotten in a good strike or two but was conflicted by the relief he felt wash over him that she wasn't injured. She'd put up a much better fight than he'd expected, and it was hard not to admire the fire in her. The sheer determination she held. Something he recognized in himself .

After calling for Evelyn and Taren to begin, he replayed his own match in his mind, assessing where he went wrong. He'd assumed weakness, which was his first mistake. Assumed lack of combat training from a woman he'd expected to be sitting pretty in meetings all day, attending galas, rather than preparing for battle. He'd let all of his own training fly out the window, too eager to prove himself.

And instead, she'd been the one to end on top. He wouldn't let her get that opportunity again.

***

"I didn't know your shifter fantasies extended to the real world, Princess. Next time you want to straddle me, just ask ."

Aria was startled by Luka's low voice beside her. She turned to find him staring straight ahead, completely nonchalant, as if he hadn't just taken her jeer from their quarrel in Sanctum courtyard and turned it against her.

She looked around discreetly, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention. All eyes were on the equally matched pair in the ring. Aria watched, stunned by the lack of sound both Evelyn and Taren made as they struck and parried with each other, despite the fact they were both built sturdily. Taren looked stronger, but Aria knew from experience that looks were deceiving.

Aria decided to ignore Luka's comment, not bothering to entertain him further. "Why do you bother with hand-to-hand fighting when you can shift?"

From her peripheral, she saw him glance at her quickly. "Our power is not limitless," he said calmly. "Some of us are stronger shifters than others. And just like you, we can exhaust our abilities. So, we need to learn how to fight like the fae. "

Aria considered this. She knew they could drain their powers, but she'd never heard of a battle where it had come to that. For the fae, learning to fight was a matter of life or death on the battlefield, considering it didn't take much to exhaust the reservoir of magic one held in their system.

But when it came to the shifters, Aria's knowledge of their magic was limited to what she learned in classes and from books, which were only eye-witness accounts and not always reliable. Some considered the shifters god-like in power, while others chalked them up to nothing more than furry soldiers. Her curiosity outweighed her desire to seem intelligent.

"Do you still train in your animal forms, then?"

"Of course." He looked at her as if she had asked if they breathe air, and then returned his focus to the match. "But when it comes to fighting one-on-one while we're shifted, we operate mostly on brute power and instinct."

She nodded. Selfishly, she hoped she would get to witness some of those sessions while she was visiting the Academy. But Luka clearly already thought her naive, so she kept her remaining questions to herself.

As Taren and Evelyn continued their dance, much of the crowd had dispersed, bored by the lack of excitement that came from their nearly identical back and forth.

"Wrap it up, Evelyn, this should be over by now!" Luka barked to his second.

Evelyn wasn't allowed to throw her knives while she was in the ring—her personal favorite form of mortal fighting, Luka explained—because it was too dangerous for spectators. Instead, she'd settled for sandwiching three of them between the knuckles of her right hand like claws, closely mimicking her shifter form.

She dove at Taren with a targeted swipe at the fae's face, and as Taren leaned back to avoid the blades, Evelyn brushed a foot under Taren's legs to knock them off balance. But it didn't work as she'd intended. Instead of taking Taren to the ground in her spin, she'd only further angered the fae with a kick to the shin and now Evelyn's back was facing Taren.

Before she could turn around, Taren grabbed her bladed hand and twisted, pinning it behind Evelyn's hips as they wrapped the panther up in their arm, sword held at her throat. Evelyn used her bare hand to claw at Taren's forearm to no avail.

"Come on, kitten, you have to be better than that," Taren cooed into Evelyn's ear, just loud enough for the onlookers to hear.

"Oh gods," Luka muttered. "Now they've done it." He shook his head with a laugh. "She hates that nickname anywhere but the bedroom."

Aria looked at him curiously, but her attention was quickly pulled back to the determined twist of Evelyn's features as she stomped on Taren's foot and grabbed the arm that held her tight. In one smooth motion, she doubled over and pulled, sending Taren flying over Evelyn's back onto the ground.

Taren groaned from where they looked up to find Evelyn's foot resting on their chest.

"I yield," Taren sighed and let their head fall to the dirt.

"Finally," Luka clapped as Evelyn reached down to help Taren up.

"Impressive footwork," Evelyn looked at Taren with admiration as they joined Aria and Luka outside of the chalk circle.

"I could say the same of you," Taren beamed, re-spinning the bun that topped their head. "That was fucking fun! You and me next, dragon," they tapped a playful punch to Luka's arm.

"For the love of Mallium, Taren, have you not had enough for one day?" Aria laughed. Luka was right. Beating each other up had seemingly softened the tension among them. Relief spread through her at the sight of Luka's smile.

"As much as I want to make that happen, I think we've subjected you two to enough for your first day here."

"Nothing like trial by fire," Aria rolled her eyes.

"Just wait. You haven't even seen the fire yet," Luka said. "We're going to introduce you to the rest of our squad at dinner tonight. I've reserved one of the private dining rooms for us so we can speak freely and dine in peace," he said, leaving the rest unspoken— and help you two avoid glares from the other shifters . "Until then, you're free to explore the grounds. At your own risk, of course, but you shouldn't receive more than some snide remarks. Everyone here is under strict instruction to leave you alone."

"Does that mean I can actually lose the bodyguard today?" Aria gave Evelyn a side eye.

Before Evelyn could object, Luka ignored them both and continued. "I sent one of our messengers to the Council who are gathered in the Dragon Province right now. They're being told about your presence at the Academy and our plan to move forward together. I've asked them for an audience to discuss it further. She left late last night and should be back with their response by the time we meet for dinner. Until then, you're on your own."

Taren chimed in hopefully. "So, if I keep training out here—?"

"You'll have to charm your way into joining them, but you're free to stay," Luka answered their unfinished question.

"Sweet, see you guys later," Taren made their way to the training mat, calling back over their shoulder. "I'll be here if you need me, Aria! "

So much for being my protector , Aria thought. She couldn't be mad, though. It was hard not to be charmed by Taren's bright and trusting demeanor. She was envious of her friend's extraversion. They would probably befriend the entire Academy by dinnertime.

"The room I've reserved is just off the main dining hall," Luka looked at Aria. "We'll grab you from your room on our way there."

"Hopefully you'll have bathed by then," she looked him up and down with a wrinkled nose.

Luka eyed her, his head tilted playfully. "Like I said before. Keep those fantasies to yourself, Princess."