Sera's Pov
Training had resumed, and I threw myself into it with everything I had. The memories of the children from the raid had faded to the back of my mind—buried, not forgotten. But the note? That was something I couldn't shake off so easily. It felt like a taunt, a whisper in the dark that I couldn't pinpoint. Someone had snuck into my room, someone had written those words, and worst of all, someone knew exactly how to twist them to get under my skin.
Kael and I had fallen back into our usual rhythm, the easy banter, the silent understanding. I was grateful for it. The last thing I needed was him treating me like glass. But even as I trained, dodging strikes, perfecting my footwork, the weight of that note sat heavy on my chest.
Lucian had taken to looming over our training sessions, arms crossed, expression unreadable—but I felt the weight of his gaze. Heavy. Unrelenting. Annoyingly fixated on me and Kael whenever we sparred.
I wasn't craving his attention.
I know who was though.
One of the other trainees, a warrior heiress named Oliver, had practically started worshiping the ground Lucian walked on. She wasn't even subtle about it. Flipping her hair, adjusting her stance to look more poised, throwing exaggerated punches before glancing his way to see if he noticed. Disgusting.
What was more disgusting? The fact that Lucian wasn't flat-out telling her to piss off.
My fists tightened as I watched him, half-expecting him to shut her down, to give her the same cold indifference he gave me. But no. He actually let her talk to him. Even nodded once when she said something.
And that pissed me off.
I tried—goddess, I tried—to pretend it didn't matter. That I didn't care. That it didn't bother me that my own mate acted like I was nothing but dirt under his boot while he let Oliver practically drool all over him.
I focused harder on training, throwing punches, dodging attacks, blocking out every unnecessary thought. I didn't care. I didn't care.
"Relax, you're going to break something," Kael's voice broke through my frustration as he stepped beside me. "And by something, I mean me, because I'm your sparring partner today."
I huffed. "I'm fine."
"You're glaring. A lot."
"I glare all the time."
"Yeah, but usually not at other trainees. Or, oh, I don't know—at Lucian?" He waggled his brows at me, dodging the punch I instinctively threw in response.
"I'm not glaring at Lucian."
"Right, and I'm not ridiculously good-looking."
"You're not."
He placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. "Ouch, Sera. You wound me."
I rolled my eyes, but the tension in my shoulders eased just slightly. "It's just—"
"You don't have to explain." He grinned. "I already know. You hate that he's not treating you like the most important thing in the room."
I scoffed, but I couldn't exactly argue with that. "He's my mate, Kael. And yet he treats me like an afterthought."
Kael's smirk softened into something more genuine. "I get it. But hey, look on the bright side—at least you get to see how ridiculously desperate someone can be when they want to impress him."
I snorted. "Oliver is embarrassing herself."
"Painfully so."
I stole another glance at her just in time to see her flip her hair in what I assumed was supposed to be a seductive gesture. It failed miserably. Kael and I both winced.
"Why do I feel secondhand embarrassment?" I muttered.
"Because you have a conscience."
"Unlike you?"
"Exactly."
I laughed, shaking my head. "I hate you."
"No, you don't." He grinned, then dodged when I tried to smack his arm. He caught my wrist easily, twisting it just slightly to throw me off balance before letting go. "Come on, Sera, you know better than to be predictable."
I huffed. "Don't chaste me. I bet girls throw themselves at you when I'm not around."
Kael blinked at me before letting out a bark of laughter. "What?"
"You heard me."
He smirked. "Jealous?"
I made a face. "Ew."
He laughed, leaning in slightly, dropping his voice. "If you must know, no one's throwing themselves at me. Not that I'd want them to."
I narrowed my eyes, searching his face. Kael wasn't the type to lie—he might joke, but he didn't lie. Begrudgingly, I accepted his answer. "Fine."
He ruffled my hair. "Besides, I've got my hands full dealing with you."
I swatted his hand away. "Don't touch my hair."
He laughed. "I can't help it. You get this little crease between your brows when you're irritated."
I groaned, turning away from him. Just as I did, a sharp whistle cut through the air, signaling an announcement. My shoulders slumped.
"Not again…" I muttered.
Kael nudged me. "Don't look so excited."
"I can't help it," I deadpanned. "Nothing brightens my day like yet another announcement."
"Maybe this time it'll be about Oliver getting promoted to Lucian's personal admirer."
I snorted. "If that's the case, I'm leaving."
Kael chuckled, but his expression sobered slightly. "You okay, though?"
I hesitated for half a second before nodding. Fuck Lucian.
"Yeah."