The moment Drake stepped off the training grounds, the world rushed back in—too loud, too bright. The crowd's cheers curdled in his ears. His hands trembled, not from exhaustion, but from the lingering fire in his veins. The dragon hilt of his sword was warm, as if freshly forged.
Alexis materialized beside him, grinning like a madman. "Damn, Drake!" His voice was too loud, too close. "Since when do you fight like—"
Drake flinched. A full-body spasm, like his nerves were raw. Alexis's smile died.
"You good?"
No.
Drake swallowed the word like bile. His tongue felt thick, his pulse wouldn't slow. "Yeah," he lied.
Across the hall, Leo watched. Not with pride. Not with curiosity.
Like a hunter tracking wounded prey.
Their gazes met—just for a heartbeat—before Leo turned away, vanishing into the corridors beyond.
---
The infirmary hummed with activity, partitioned into sterile wards that were filled with low voices and the occasional groan of injured fighters. Drake's boots scuffed against the polished floor as he followed a nurse—no, a healer—into an examination bay.
She was younger than he expected. Dark braids coiled into an intricate crown, framing a face that balanced warmth with weary professionalism. Emerald-green eyes flicked up from her clipboard as she gestured to the bed.
"Sit."
Drake obeyed, the thin mattress creaking under his weight.
"Name's Njdeka," she said, snapping on gloves with practiced ease. "Shirt off. Let's see the damage."
His fingers fumbled at the clasps of his uniform. The high-tech fabric—woven with self-repairing nanofibers—had already sealed the gashes from Riko's bone-blades, leaving only faint scars of synth-thread where the material had knit itself back together.
Njdeka whistled, tracing a finger along the repaired seams. "Leo's been putting you through hell, huh?"
Drake froze.
How did she—?
She smirked at his alarm, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "Relax. I'm his fiancée." A beat, then dryly: "Try not to look so shocked. Even glaciers melt sometimes."
Drake's cheeks burned. Leo? Engaged? The man was a blade given human form—all sharp edges and silent judgment. The idea of him whispering sweet nothings over candlelit dinners was absurd enough to choke on.
He looked at her for a moment—and then it clicked. He knew her! Or rather, recognized her. She was the lady in the picture that hung in Leo's secret training ground.
Njdeka's fingers probed his shoulder, her touch clinical but not unkind. Then—
She stilled.
"Huh."
"What?"
Her brow furrowed. "You have no wounds."
Drake glanced down.
His skin was unbroken.
No gashes. No bruises. Just dried blood flaking over smooth muscle, like paint on canvas.
"That's impossible," he whispered. He'd felt Riko's blade pierce him—had tasted copper on his tongue as his own blood slicked the sword's hilt. The memory alone made his stomach turn.
Njdeka's gaze sharpened. "Let's brush that aside for now." She pressed a palm to his bare chest. "Your heartbeat's erratic. Like a drumroll."
Drake stiffened, his breath hitching. He wasn't used to being touched—not like this. Not with such casual intimacy.
"I'll stabilize it." Green Aether flickered around her fingers, luminous as fireflies. "Just a little infusion—"
The moment her energy touched him, Drake's body reacted.
Njdeka gasped. Her Aether—vibrant, alive—was sucked into his skin like water into parched earth. The glow around her hand dimmed, her breath turning ragged. She tried to pull away, but her palm stuck to his chest as if fused.
"L-Leo—!" she choked.
Drake's eyes rolled back. His heartbeat accelerated, pounding so fast it felt like his ribs would crack. Njdeka's knees buckled, her complexion graying as her energy reserves drained.
The door slammed open.
Leo crossed the room in a blur. His palm slammed into Drake's sternum, launching him into the wall. Drake crumpled, unconscious before he hit the floor.
Leo caught Njdeka as she swayed. "Breathe," he ordered, easing her onto a stool.
She gulped air, sweat glistening on her brow. "What the hell is he?"
"—never seen anything like it." Njdeka's voice was strained.
Leo dragged a hand down his face. He'd seen Drake's unnatural combat surge—now this? A body that healed instantly and devoured Aether?
"Keep him on the bed," Njdeka rasped.
Leo lifted Drake—and felt it. A whisper of his own Aether being siphoned, subtle as a spider's bite. He laid Drake down and stepped back, jaw clenched.
Njdeka wiped her face, brushing away lingering sweat droplets.
Leo stared at Drake's still form. "Winston brought a wolf into the flock," he muttered. "And it's starting to howl."
Njdeka gripped his wrist. "We keep this quiet. For now."
Leo nodded. But his mind was already racing.
What else was Drake hiding? What was Winston hiding? And how much did Winston really know?