Chapter 3 Territory

"Real tough move," Nova said, before her brain had finished approving the words. "Putting someone on the ground who wasn't going to fight back."

Caden stopped walking.

He turned around slowly.

The students nearby went quiet. Not all at once. One by one, like a sound being turned down.

The boy she'd pulled up grabbed her sleeve with two fingers. His voice came out barely above a breath. "You know who that is, right?" "That's Caden Voss. Strongest fighter in this Academy. You don't want to get on his bad side."

"Strength without judgement is just aggression," Nova said, still looking at Caden. "Anyone can swing hard. It takes more to know when not to."

Someone behind her muttered something about a death wish.

Caden walked back toward her. Unhurried. Each step was measured and deliberate, the walk of someone who had never once needed to close a distance quickly because things tended to move out of his way instead.

He stopped close. Too close for conversation between strangers. She could see the texture of the old scar that ran along his left collarbone and count the individual muscle lines where his neck met his shoulder.

Don't look at his neck. Look at his eyes.

"You have nerve, newbie; I give that to you," he said. Low. Almost like a compliment, but not.

"I have opinions," she said. "They happen to be correct."

His eyes dropped briefly to her throat. Her collar was high. Good. They came back up.

"The rule here is simple," he said. "He entered my space without permission. He got dealt with." He leaned slightly forward, just enough that she had to make a conscious choice not to step back. "Vordrak runs on one law. The strong dictate things here."

"Then the strong should be able to handle criticism," Nova said. "Or is that only for the weak?"

Something flashed through his eyes. Fast and hot. Not anger exactly. Something more alert than anger.

He leaned closer, way too close.

She felt it before she processed it. That pull. Low and specific and completely unwelcome, like her body had decided to respond to his proximity on its own schedule without consulting her. Her wolf pressed forward inside her chest. Not aggressive. Not afraid. Just intensely, inconveniently interested, ready to unleash and be devoured by him completely and intensely.

Absolutely not, she thought.

Sit down.

His eyes moved to hers and stayed there, and she had the unsettling sense that he was reading something in her face she hadn't meant to show.

"You smell strange; I can't seem to figure out what that exact smell is," he said. Quiet now. Direct. "Who are you, really?"

"Ash Darvin." She held his gaze without blinking. "Freshman intake. And I'm late for dorm assignments." She took one step back. "So."

She turned and walked away.

She heard him behind her. He didn't follow her; he just stood there dazed at the audacity of what just happened.

"Interesting," he said, to no one in particular. "Very interesting."

She didn't look back.