Chapter 533
Evaline:
I could hardly keep the excitement from bubbling over.
On the outside, I looked calm. Collected. Composed in the way I had learned to be over the past year – chin lifted, shoulders relaxed, expression carefully neutral. It was a skill I had picked up from my mates without even realizing it. A mask that hid chaos, anticipation, fear, and joy all at once.
Inside?
I was vibrating.
And the reason for it stood written on my schedule in neat, unforgiving ink:
Physical Combat – Instructor: Oscar Thorne.
It was friday morning and the fourth day of the new term.
It was also going to be our first official physical combat class at Silver Moon Academy.
And Oscar was going to be teaching us for the entire semester.
I had barely seen any of my mates since I returned to the Academy five days ago. River and Draven were away at the Thorne estate. As the headmaster, Kieran was buried in his duties and wouldn’t even start his classes until the third week of term.
And Oscar… well, Oscar had been occupied at the Warrior Academy, taking care of new warrior recruits and handling duties far above teaching a group of second-years how to throw punches.
Until today.
So yes… if my pulse felt too fast and my steps a little too light, I had every reason.
Though I had been messaging and talking to them all these days, it was still nothing compared to finally seeing him in front of me.
I finished changing faster than usual, tying my hair back into a tight braid and adjusting the fitted training uniform. It was simple – black and gray, flexible fabric meant for movement – but it still felt strange wearing it for the first time.
Mallory noticed immediately.
“You look like you are about to burst,” she teased, tying her shoelaces. “First combat class nerves p>
Ria snorted. “That’s not nerves. That’s excitement p>
Selene tilted her head, studying me with a knowing smile. “You have been waiting for this. Right p>
I shrugged, pretending to be casual. “It’s just a class p>
None of them believed me.
We filed out of the changing room together, joining the steady stream of students heading toward the training hall. The moment we stepped inside, the energy hit me like a wave.
The hall was massive – high ceilings supported by dark wooden beams, wide stone floors marked with faint scuffs from years of training, and a raised stage at the front. Weapons lined the walls in locked cases, though we wouldn’t be touching those anytime soon.
The place buzzed with anticipation.
Students talked loudly, laughed nervously, stretched their arms and legs. Almost everyone was excited. Oscar Thorne wasn’t just any instructor… he was a legend just like his brothers. An Alpha known across packs, a man whose name carried weight in our world.
And he was about to teach us.
We took our spots near the middle of the hall, just as the bell rang.
The sound echoed… and then p>
The door pushed open.
Silence fell instantly as Oscar stepped inside.
He didn’t rush. He never did. His presence alone commanded attention as he moved toward the stage, black combat uniform fitting him like it had been forged rather than sewn. His dark hair was pulled back, his expression calm but sharp, eyes scanning the room with practiced ease.
It felt like the air shifted.
He climbed onto the stage and clapped his hands once.
“Good morning, second years,” he said, his voice carrying effortlessly through the hall.
“Good morning, sir!” forty-one voices echoed back.
A faint smile tugged at his lips.
“My name is Oscar Thorne,” he continued. “I’ll be your physical combat instructor this semester p>
As if anyone here didn’t already know that.
“For some of you, this will be your first structured combat training. For others, it’ll be a continuation of what you already know. Either way, I expect discipline, respect, and effort p>
His gaze swept over us again.
“Since this is our first class, we’ll keep things simple. Warm-up first. Then we’ll end with a basic three-strike attack and defense round p>
Murmurs rippled through the hall.
“Rules are straightforward,” Oscar went on. “You’ll pair up. One attacks, one defends. Three chances each. Whoever succeeds twice wins. No werewolf strength unless I say otherwise p>
My shoulders relaxed slightly at that.
Without their wolf strength, the gap between me and my classmates narrowed… but it didn’t disappear. Wolves were born strong. Faster. Hardier. Even restrained, they still had an edge.
I silently thanked River… for the endless drills, the bruises, the relentless training that had shaped my body into something capable of keeping up.
“Warm-up,” Oscar said. “Now p>
The next ten minutes were intense.
Running laps. Stretching. Core exercises. But I was able to keep up without sweating much or my muscles burning since I had been doing far more intense workout the past several weeks.
I wasn’t the strongest.
I wasn’t the fastest.
But I wasn’t weak either.
And that alone felt like a victory.
Around me, students struggled and laughed, some already panting, others showing off strength they weren’t supposed to be using. Oscar’s sharp voice cut through it all, correcting stances, calling out mistakes, pushing them harder.
Every time he passed near me, my focus sharpened instinctively.
When the warm-up finally ended, we gathered in front of the stage, sitting down in rows. My muscles ached in that satisfying way that told me I had worked hard.
Oscar stepped onto the stage again.
“All right,” he said. “Before I let you loose on each other, I’ll demonstrate how this round works p>
Excited whispers spread.
“I’ll need a volunteer p>
His eyes scanned the crowd.
I felt it before it happened.
That subtle shift. That instinctive awareness that made my spine straighten and my heart slam harder against my ribs.
His gaze stopped.
And then locked.
On me.
For a split second, everything went quiet in my head.
Then he spoke.
“Miss Evaline p>
The sound of my name echoed through the hall.
And just like that p>
Every eye turned toward me.