**Chapter 6** I wanted to curl up in a hole and die. “There you go.” Aiden nodded approvingly as I successfully deflected one of his blows. “Use your forearm. Move with purpose.” Move with purpose? If only I could move to a cozy spot where I could lie down—that was a purpose I would gladly embrace. With a dynamic thrust, Aiden lunged at me again, and I managed to block his jab with surprising effectiveness. Hell yeah, I was nailing that part. But then came the real challenge; he spun around with a fluidity that would make any ninja envious. My heart raced as he struck with remarkable force. The heel of his foot skidded past my guard and slammed into my side. The impact barely registered beyond a faint sensation of discomfort, but soon enough, the familiar sharp spike of pain radiated through me, accompanied by the dull throb that followed. I inhaled deeply, trying to channel my focus and breathe through the agony. Half-bloods don’t show pain in the face of adversity. At least, that was the mantra echoing in my mind. Aiden straightened up, his facade of confidence momentarily replaced by concern. “You okay?” Clenching my teeth, I summoned every ounce of determination. “Yes.” He stepped closer, skepticism clouding his expression. “That was a pretty hard hit, Alex. It’s okay if it hurts. We can take a few minutes." “No.” I waved off his concern, pushing through the discomfort. My pride triumphed over any suggestion of weakness. “I’m fine. Let’s try this again.” And we did. Missing a few jabs and kicks was a far better fate than the relentless laps I’d had to endure yesterday or being trapped in the gym for the whole afternoon. That had been my punishment for whining about the aches in my back and sides after our previous training session. With a relentless determination, Aiden guided me through the basics, the kind of blocking techniques that even a ten-year-old could master. As I obsessively studied his movements, an unsettling reality dawned on me: I was vastly behind in my training. Yet, despite my lack of experience, I had somehow managed to take down two daimons. Honestly, blocking most of Aiden’s kicks was proving to be a near-impossible task. “Watch me.” He circled around me, every muscle taut and primed for action. “There’s always a tell in my movement—something that gives away my next strike. It could be a slight tremor in my muscle or a fleeting glance. There’s always something. When a daimon attacks, it’s no different." Nodding, I squared off against him once more. Aiden lunged in, making one swift swipe with his hand. I knocked his arm away and deflected his other strike. The jabs and punches weren’t my downfall—it was his kicks. Time and again, he spun around with expert speed. But this time, as I focused intently, I noticed his gaze dart down to my waist. Twisting into the expected kick, I attempted a clean sweeping motion with my arm, but I was a second too slow. His foot connected squarely with my already bruised back, sending shockwaves of pain through my body. I doubled over, grasping my knees, fighting for my breath as I struggled to manage the sharpness of my agony. Immediately, Aiden was at my side. “Alex?” “That... stung a bit.” I winced, attempting to crack a joke through the pain. “If it makes you feel better, you almost had it this time.” I looked up, a short laugh escaping my lips as I caught his lopsided grin. “Good to hear.” But his amusement faltered, and his expression shifted into one of concern as he lowered his voice into a warning. “Alex. Stand up.” My back protested the sudden movement, but when I caught the sight of Marcus leaning nonchalantly against the door, arms crossed, I understood the urgency of Aiden's command. I had no intention of looking like a punching bag in front of my uncle. “I wondered how training was going. I see it’s progressing as expected.” Marcus’s voice dripped with a condescending tone that stung like a slap. Taking a steadying breath, I threw out a challenge. “Would you like to give it a try?” Marcus raised an eyebrow, amusement sparking in his gaze, but before he could respond, Aiden shot me a warning look, placing a restraining hand on my arm. “Don’t.” I shrugged his hand off, a feisty determination igniting within me. I was pretty sure I could take my uncle. With his perfectly groomed hair and neatly pressed khakis, he looked like a poster child for yacht-club-of-the-month. “I’m game if you are,” I smirked, undeterred. “Alex, I’m telling you not to do this. He used to be—” Marcus pushed off from the wall, a small smile forming on his face. “It’s all right, Aiden. I wouldn’t usually entertain such a ridiculous offer, but it appears I’m feeling charitable today.” I snickered. “Charitable?" “Marcus, this isn’t necessary.” Aiden moved in front of me, his brows furrowing with concern. “She’s just starting to learn the blocking techniques.” I glared at Aiden, a mixture of embarrassment and irritation swirling within me. Great support, buddy. My ego surged back to life as I pushed around him. “I think I got this.” Marcus laughed lightly, though Aiden looked downright grave. “Alex, I’m telling you not to do this. Just listen to me.” I adopted an innocent expression, feigning confusion. “Do what?” “No. She has this, Aiden. Let’s see what she’s learned. Since she is challenging me, I assume she is ready.” I planted my hands firmly on my hips. “I don’t know. I’d feel bad for beating up an old guy.” Marcus’s bright emerald gaze assessed me. “Attack me.” “What?” I blinked, caught off guard. A sudden spark of recognition flashed in Marcus’s eyes. “That’s right! You haven’t learned any real attack moves. Then I shall attack you. You do know defensive blocking techniques?” Aiden’s expression was thunderous. “Yes.” “Then you should be adequately prepared to defend yourself,” Marcus stated, the playfulness gone as he regarded me seriously. “Just picture me as the enemy, Alexandria.” Oh, that wouldn’t be too challenging, Dean Andros. I raised my hands, beckoning him forward with bravado. “Bring it.” Without warning, Marcus lunged at me, the only sign of his movement being a slight twitch from his arm before he struck. I managed to lift my arm just as Aiden had instructed, blocking the jab. A wild grin broke across my face as I deflected another formidable punch. My focus narrowed in on my uncle, who was beginning to reposition for another strike. “Back off.” Aiden’s voice hissed from the sidelines, low and tense. “You’re too close.” I pushed forward, successfully blocking another hit from Marcus. “Come on, you’ve got to be faster—” But instead of following through with a kick, Marcus spun me around in a seamless motion, his other arm snaking around my neck in an agonizing choke-hold. My heart raced as panic surged. Any attempt to escape only intensified the unnatural angle of my arm caught in his grip. Within heartbeats, he rendered me utterly defenseless. In any other situation, I might have admired his swift technique—except this was not just any practice fight. This was my uncle, and it wasn’t benign. Leaning in, he whispered, “Now just imagine if I were a daimon. What do you think would happen next?” I resisted the impulse to respond, my jaw clenched in silence. “Alexandria, I asked you a question. What would happen if I were a daimon?” His grip tightened incrementally, and I felt breaths shortcutting in my throat. I glanced desperately at Aiden, who stood rooted to the spot, an uproar of helpless anger etched across his features. I knew he longed to intervene, but he remained frozen, knowing he couldn’t break the tension between Marcus and me. “Do we need to try this again?” Marcus asked, his voice calm yet demanding. “No! I’d... be dead.” I finally breathed out, my voice shaky. “Exactly. You’d be dead.” Marcus released me, and I stumbled forward, gasping. He brushed past me to address Aiden, “If you hope to have her ready by fall, you might want to work on her attitude and ensure she actually listens to your instructions next time. If she stays stubborn, she will fail.” Without taking his eyes off me, Aiden offered Marcus a terse nod, a storm brewing behind his gaze. As Marcus strode away, a fire of indignation ignited within me. “What the hell did I ever do to him?” I rubbed my neck, feeling both bruised and humiliated. “He could’ve broken my arm!” “If he wanted to break your arm, he would have. I told you to be quiet, Alex. What were you expecting from Marcus? Did you think he was just some lazy pure-blood who needed protection?” Aiden's voice dripped with sarcasm. “Well, he looks like one! How was I supposed to know he was secretly Rambo in Dockers?” Aiden stalked closer, catching my chin and compelling me to meet his gaze. “You should have known. I told you not to push him. Yet you did. You didn’t listen to me—he used to be a Sentinel, Alex.” “What? Marcus was a Sentinel? I didn’t know that!” “I tried to tell you that,” he said, closing his eyes and releasing my chin. He ran a hand through his hair, frustration radiating from him. “Marcus is right. You won’t be ready for fall if you don’t listen to me.” An internal war waged as embarrassment flared within me, and anger at myself festered. I followed him angrily across the mats. “I am listening to you!” He whirled toward me, eyes blazing. “What part did you listen to, Alex? I explicitly told you not to engage him. If you can’t listen to me, how can anyone—including Marcus—expect you to listen to your Instructors in the fall?” He was right, but pride kept me from admitting it. “He only did that because he doesn’t like me.” “Oh, it has nothing to do with whether he likes you, Alex. He was teaching you a lesson. It has everything to do with the fact that you don’t listen! You’ve spent too much time outside where you could easily defend yourself against mortals. But you’re not in the mortal world anymore.” “I know that! I’m not stupid!” “Really?” His eyes shimmered like stormy silver. “You are behind every single person here. Even the pure-bloods attending school in the fall will have the basic knowledge of how to defend themselves. You still want to be a Sentinel? After what you’ve shown me today, I seriously doubt that’s the case. Do you know what makes a Sentinel? Obedience, Alex.” Heat rushed to my cheeks, hot tears threatening to spill as I turned my face away. “I’m… not trying to embarrass you, Alex. But these are the facts. We’ve only been training for a week, and the road ahead is long. You need to listen to me.” Once I felt confident I wouldn’t break down, I faced him again. “Why did you even stick up for me when Marcus wanted to hand me over to Lucian?” Aiden glanced away, his frown deepening. “Because you have potential, and we can’t afford to have that potential wasted.” “If I hadn’t missed so much time, I know I’d be good,” I admitted, regret dripping from my voice. “I know. But you did miss a lot of time. Now we have to get you back on track. Battling your uncle is not the solution.” My shoulders slumped as defeat washed over me. “He hates me. He really does.” “Alex, he doesn’t hate you.” “Oh no, I think he does. This was the first time I’ve seen him since I got here, and he was more than eager to prove that I’m a screw-up. It’s obvious he doesn’t want me trained.” “That’s not the case.” Aiden’s voice softened. “Really? Then what is the case?” He opened his mouth and hesitated before cutting himself off. “Yeah. Exactly.” Silence stretched between us for a moment before he ventured a question. “Were you two ever close?” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “Before? No. I only saw him during visits with Mom, when he seldom paid any attention to me. I always thought he was one of those pures who looked down on… my kind.” The words tasted bitter, heavy with the weight of truth. There were plenty of pures out there who viewed half-bloods as second-class citizens. They needed us, sure, but it didn’t erase the hierarchy that existed among us. “Marcus has never felt that way about… half-bloods,” Aiden said quietly. I shrugged, suddenly drained from the emotional toll of our conversation. “I guess it’s just me then.” I forced a weak smile, trying to lighten the mood. “So… will you show me what I did wrong?” “Which part?” He pressed his lips together tightly. “All of it?” Finally, a flicker of a smile broke through the tension, but the usual playful banter vanished, replaced with a stark seriousness that hung heavily in the air. I could feel his disappointment. But what could I do? I didn’t know Marcus was, you know, Chuck Norris. I’d lost my temper. So why did it leave me feeling so awful? After practice, the feeling of utter failure clung to me like a shadow as I prepared to face the rest of the evening. Hours later, Caleb appeared at my door, looking vibrant and ready for the night ahead. Frowning, I stepped aside and let him in. “You’re really good at sneaking into this dorm, Caleb.” He smirked, but that playful demeanor faded as his eyes roamed over my sweat-stained clothes. “It’s Zarak’s party. Tonight. Remember?” “Dammit. No.” I kicked the door shut behind me, panic bubbling to the surface. “Well, you’d better get ready. Like now. We’re already late.” A part of me debated opting out—not because I didn’t want to go, but because sulking alone seemed an easier escape than facing a night of socializing. Yet the idea of wallowing in solitude was unappealing, and after the day I’d had, I felt I deserved a reprieve. A night of fun could be just what I needed, especially since neither Aiden nor Marcus would check if I decided to join Zarak’s party. “I need to take a quick shower first. Make yourself comfortable,” I called over my shoulder as I dashed to the bathroom. “Sure.” Caleb plopped onto the couch, grabbing the remote control. “There’s going to be a lot of pure-bloods there—ones who haven’t seen you since you came back. Of course, they know you’re back. Everyone is talking about it.” Rolling my eyes, I closed the bathroom door and stripped off my clothes. I wasn’t worried about Caleb walking in; it’d be like walking in on his sister—there was no way he wanted to see that. As I twisted in front of the mirror, I caught sight of a patchwork of bluish splotches decorating my back and sides from my earlier sparring session. Great. “Are you almost done in there? Gods, I’m bored,” he called from the living room. “Almost.” I pulled on a pair of jeans and a simple shirt, though the temptation to don the flirty black dress Caleb had picked out was strong. But the low back would give away all the bruises, and suddenly, I wasn’t as excited about showing off as I had been. Caleb stood as I walked into the living room. “You look hot.” I scrunched up my face. “You think this is hot?” He laughed, turning toward the door. “No.” By the time we linked up with a group of half-bloods at the edge of campus, Caleb’s excited monologue about the party had managed to drown out my dark thoughts from earlier. As we trekked across the bridge to the main island, Caleb kept sneaking glances at one of the girls in our group, making it easy for me to forget about practice and all I’d missed during the past couple of years. Passing the guards was a breeze. They neither recognized me nor cared enough to send me back to my room. They were used to kids coming and going between the islands, especially during summer. “Oh wow.” One of the girls let out a gasp as we rounded a bend along the sand dunes. “The party’s definitely in full swing.” She was right. The second we approached the beach house, halfs and pures spilled from the doors, laughter and music mingling in the evening air. It had been so long since I attended one of Zarak’s parties. Like Thea, his family held seats on the Council, and with that prestige came wealth. Unfortunately, it also meant neglect from his parents, who seemed to prioritize everything else over their pure-blood son. The beach house’s pale blue siding and pristine whitewashed decks mirrored the cherished memories of my mother’s home. I couldn’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia crash over me, bringing with it a bittersweet mix of grief and happiness. I remembered being a little girl, playing on the porch, racing through the sand dunes, laughter echoing across the waves. My mother would be there, always smiling down at me, filling the air with warmth. “Hey.” Caleb’s voice pulled me back to the present as he came up behind me. “You doing okay?” “Yeah.” With a gentle squeeze of my shoulders, he reassured me, “Come on, you’re going to feel like some kind of rock star here. Everyone’s going to be thrilled to see you.” As we walked toward the beach house, the feeling of being a rock star began to wash over me. Names were called all around me, warm embraces followed, and the words “Welcome back” rang like music to my ears. For a precious moment, I let myself get lost in the sea of familiar faces. Suddenly, someone shoved a plastic cup into my hands, and just like that, I was swept away in a tide of laughter and camaraderie. Someone filled my cup from an open bottle, and before I knew it, I was buzzing happily, surrounded by old friends. I ascended the wide steps leading into the house, scanning for Zarak. He was, without a doubt, one of my very favorite pure-bloods. Dodging past two halfs entwined in an amorous embrace, I slipped into the kitchen, seeking the familiar face in the crowd. Finally, the telltale blonde curls appeared, but they were occupied with a pretty blonde girl. I knew, without a doubt, that I’d be interrupting something, but Zarak had to have missed me. Making my way closer, I tentatively tapped my fingers along the curve of his shoulder, excitement bubbling within me. It took a moment for him to look up, and when he did, I was met not with the striking gray eyes I was accustomed to, but an unexpected gaze of startling blue. What the hell?