Sera's Pov
The murmurs started as a whisper, soft and speculative, but soon they grew louder, filling the training grounds like the steady rise of an incoming tide. Eyes darted between Lucian and the ornate wooden box in his hands, and though I couldn't see inside yet, I felt the weight of its presence. My fingers curled into my palms as I glanced at Kael beside me. He was as still as a statue, his face unreadable, but I noticed the slight twitch in his fingers and the way his gaze honed in on the box like a wolf tracking prey.
I was just about to ask if he was okay when Lucian spoke.
"Kael. Step forward."
Kael didn't hesitate, his steps slow and deliberate as he moved through the sea of trainees. He stopped in front of Lucian, completely at ease, his usual air of indifference draped over him like a second skin. The tension between them, however, was almost suffocating.
Lucian's piercing gaze swept over the gathered crowd before settling back on Kael. "I was… surprised when I heard about your request. The weapons were supposed to be chosen from our armory, but yours—" he lifted the box slightly, "—was delivered. Personally requested. That caught my interest."
Kael shrugged, his tone as lazy as ever. "You approved it, didn't you? Doesn't that mean it's not a cause for concern?"
Lucian exhaled through his nose, clearly unimpressed. "That depends. A Beta with a weapon passed down through generations is already rare, but what I really want to know is—" his fingers lifted the lid of the box, revealing what lay inside, "—why does it contain ancient silver?"
A ripple of hushed exclamations spread through the crowd. Ancient silver? That was no ordinary material. I could barely see the daggers resting inside, their gleaming ridges catching the light, but even from here, they looked nothing like the standard weapons stored in the armory. I turned to Kael, expecting to see some sort of reaction. He didn't give one.
Lucian's gaze sharpened. "Explain."
Kael tilted his head. "There's nothing to explain. It's a family weapon."
Lucian's lips pressed into a thin line. "A Beta's family weapon. Forged with ancient silver. Do you think I'm an idiot? Where did this come from? Who made it?"
Kael sighed as if bored, but I could feel the subtle shift in his energy. "I don't know. Ask my Alpha. It was passed down to me. I didn't forge it."
Lucian took a step closer, his voice darkening. "I don't believe you."
The atmosphere in the training ground had changed, growing heavier with each exchanged word. People were shifting, eyes darting back and forth between them. I felt my heart hammer against my ribs as I stared at Kael, willing him to keep his composure. He was so good at acting unbothered, but there was something coiling beneath his skin, something restrained but dangerous. His entire stance screamed patience—forced, deliberate patience.
And then Lucian pushed harder.
"I think I'll keep this for a while," Lucian mused, his fingers drumming against the lid of the box. "Have it studied. Maybe I'll return it when I'm satisfied with what I find."
The change was instant.
Kael's entire body stiffened. His fingers flexed, curling in and out of a fist, and when he lifted his gaze from the box to Lucian, his usual lazy smirk was gone. In its place was something chilling. Cold, quiet madness. The same madness I had seen that day in the competition when he tore through an opponent like a psychotic beast.
A sharp inhale filled my lungs as the air between them grew even more electric.
Kael's voice was quieter than before, but twice as dangerous. "Try it."
The murmurs turned into hushed gasps. No one spoke to Lucian like that—no one dared. My pulse pounded in my ears as they locked eyes, neither moving, neither backing down. I heard of something like this before, after the competition when I had lost consciousness. Lisa had told me about it, how they had nearly clashed. Now, standing here, witnessing it myself, I understood why she had been so eager to recall it.
Lucian was baiting him. Pushing him toward the edge, daring him to fall.
And Kael, for all his usual nonchalance, was standing on the very edge of that precipice, looking ready to jump.
Then Lucian said something that made my blood run cold.
His gaze flickered to me.
"So you can explore my mate freely, but I can't take a good look at your weapon?"
The words hit like a thunderclap, ringing through the air. My entire body went rigid as I felt dozens of eyes snap toward me, sharp and intrusive. Whispers broke out, some amused, some shocked, but all of them humiliating. My skin burned, my stomach twisting into knots. I wanted to die. Right there. Instantly
Kael, however, remained calm. His face was unreadable, there was something different about the way he stood. He no longer looked like a man amused by most situations—he looked like a man considering murder.
Then, as if he had flipped a switch, he exhaled and let the tension drain from his shoulders. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said simply. "Just give me my weapon."
Lucian studied him, as if debating whether or not to push further. Then, as abruptly as he had instigated the confrontation, he seemed to grow bored. He sighed, tilted his head, and tossed the box toward Kael.
Kael caught it effortlessly, opening the lid to reveal what was inside. The crowd went silent as he pulled them free—daggers, sleek and deadly, their chipped ridges unlike anything I had ever seen before. A bluish veins of something ran through the blade, likely the ancient sliver Lucian had mentioned. They were breathtaking. They were terrifying. They fit him perfectly.
Kael let his thumb run over the edge of one of the blades before slipping them back into the box. He looked back up at Lucian, his expression unreadable, and for the first time since the conversation started, he looked completely calm. He gave a short nod. "Thank you."
Lucian narrowed his eyes, but didn't say anything as Kael turned on his heel and walked back to me. As soon as he reached my side, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
"That was reckless," I hissed.
Kael only smirked, his eyes flickering with mischief. "That was fun."
I wanted to strangle him.