Vincent and Acard faced each other as a light breeze blew against their hair and uniforms. Mizuki, Max, and a reluctant and nervous Isabel stood on the side.

  Mizuki had an eager smile, poking at her teeth with a finger. “Well, this should be good.”

  “Good enough for popcorn,” Max said as he reached into a bag of popcorn he had bought from the vending machine before joining them.

  Mizuki grinned. “You wanna go a round when they’re done?”

  “No way,” Max said, talking with a mouthful of popcorn. “I ain’t fightin no one unless I have to.”

  “You’re such a wimp,” she said, spping him on the back, making him spit some of his popcorn out and almost dropping the bag, swiping a handful of popcorn for herself.

  “This is bad,” Isabel said, biting her nails. “If we get caught encouraging an unsanctioned fight, we’ll be in so much trouble.”

  “Everyone’s in css, and we’re up on the roof,” Mizuki said with a shrug. “Besides, they don’t even know how to transform yet. They’re just pups. It’ll probably be over quick as Vincent has little to no experience. And as much as I dislike Acard, that’s just the most likely outcome. She eyed Isabel. “And you don’t have to be here if you don’t want to be.”

  Isabel bit her lip, conflicted. “I know, I know. But I have to see this.”

  Mizuki gave a knowing smirk, realizing something about Isabel in that moment. The way she looked at Vincent, the way she worried. In that moment, she knew Isabel had a thing for him.

  As Vincent eyed Acard, he thought about how he was going to approach this fight. Should he attack first? Or defend? And was Acard all talk, or not? Gulp. He felt his nerves tense, doing his best to stand with confidence even if he had no clue how to fight.

  Acard cracked his neck and knuckles, looking eted. “I’m ready anytime you are, chump.”

  Vincent felt his pulse quicken at the anticipation of the oncoming bout, his body tense, his hands twitching.

  Mizuki stepped forward and yelled. “Are you two gonna fight or just stand there with your hands down your pants?”

  “Shuddap,” Acard said, glowering as he jabbed a thumb at Vincent. “I’m just giving this chump newbie time to consider his pn before I pummel him.”

  Vincent thought about how the Beast Mind might help him as he wiped his hand across his forehead. Was that even a thing, and how would he bring that about? As he thought about the fight, about Acard rushing at him, and meeting him fist to body, it gave him an invigorating rush. And that’s when it happened, that’s when he dashed forward without another thought, bursting into a motion and moving on Acard.

  He closed the distance quicker than he thought, throwing a punch at Acard’s jaw. Acard lowered his stance, parried the punch, and stepped to the side, twisting his body as he used Vincent’s forward momentum to push Vincent down.

  It was a solid shove, and Vincent shoulder-rolled against the ground, coming up on a knee, and spinning around to meet Acard whom was standing with a stupid grin on face.

  “Is that it?” Acard asked, raising his arms to either side.

  Vincent snarled and jumped to his feet. “Shut up and fight me.” He moved on Acard, swinging a succession of punches at him. Acard stepped into him, blocking his strikes with open hands, Vincent’s jabs spping against Acard’s open palms.

  Acard smirked. “Come on, Chump. This can’t be all you got, can it?”

  Vincent felt a fire light under him, his eyes shimmer with a vicious glimmer as he let out a furious growl, punching with more vigor, pivoting, and striking as he did. He wanted to unleash on Acard, to let loose, and felt his strength growing, his power increasing.

  “Gahhh!” He gave everything he had, throwing a pummel of punches at Acard, but none of them seemed to connect. They were either blocked, dodged, or parried. And then, he saw an opening and stepped and motioned his body, punching and striking Acard in the cheek, knocking him backward.

  Acard leaned back from the strike, holding himself there for a moment, then turned, his eyes wild, a delicious smile on face. “Nice.” He spun, quick and precise, and struck Vincent with a powerful punch that knocked Vincent to the ground. Acard stepped to Vincent, gring down at him. “Gotcha.”

  Vincent shook it off and growled, reaching for Acard, only grabbing air as Acard leapt backwards. Vincent spun his legs around in a whirlwind movement, whipping himself back to his feet.

  Acard’s smiled with confidence, clenching his fists. “Watch closely, now. Here I come.”

  Vincent blinked, and Acard seemingly disappeared as he was moving fast – too fast. A second ter, he was on Vincent, his eyes excited, fist moving through the air so fast, so precise, so strong. And Vincent couldn’t dodge it because it was too quick, and he was frozen.

  Sm!

  Acard’s fist connected with Vincent, knocking him back and down again, tumbling to the ground. Vincent let out a snarl, kicked himself back up to his feet, and charged Acard, growling as he moved on him. He threw a punch, and Acard slipped by it, Vincent’s knuckle grazing his cheek as softly as a leaf brushing by.

  Acard moved, quick and precise, kneeling slightly, then came up with a furious uppercut to Vincent’s chin, knocking the poor kid on his back with a hard thud, the wind knocked out of him as he gasped with wide eyes. Vincent stared up at the sky for a second, then gripped the grass, flinging clods of it about as he came up to one knee in a swift motion. He snarled, eyes squinting on Acard as he felt something dangerous take him over, fill him up, and explode inside him.

  What was this rush, this invigorating feeling? He wanted to bound through the air and tear Acard apart. Was this the Beast Mind? Was this his werewolf strength? Whatever it was, he gave into it, and leapt into action, bounding across the ground at Acard in a swift movement.

  Acard taunted Vincent as he rushed forward. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

  They cshed in a furious whirlwind of punches and strikes and snarls and blocks and blows. Vincent didn’t know what was happening, but he just went with it, gave into it, and let it take him, like some sort of instinctual power surging through him.

  Most of Vincent’s strikes and blows were blocked, but he got one or two in, and even ended up scratching Acard across the cheek, which made him let out a little growl, whipping a powerful punch into Vincent’s chest. As they struck one another, both slid backwards in opposite directions, their breathing heavy from exhaustion. Vincent rubbed his chest as he felt a growing pain throb from the strike, gritting his teeth through the pain, his adrenaline keeping him upright.

  Acard, while having taken a hit, seemed more upset than in pain.

  “Okay, punk,” Acard said, wiping his mouth. “No more pying around.” He growled and charged Vincent with his own ferociousness. Vincent rushed forward with a hungry energy, joining Acard in a dance of strikes, blows, and blocks. But for each strike Vincent delivered, Acard returned at least three. He was so strong, so fast, so precise, and then –

  He moved on Vincent, smooth and fast, pushing his shoulder into Vincent’s body, and with a mighty growl, he flung Vincent into the air.

  What strength! Vincent thought as he tumbled through the air. Luckily, in a catlike maneuver, Vincent was able to twist his body in a way that he nded in a crouch, sliding backward, one hand digging into the ground to slow his backward momentum, growl escaping his tensed jaw as he eyed Acard in a taunting manner.

  He felt attuned to it all as he held unblinking eyes on Acard, then he burst forward in a sudden rageful rush, an urge that seemed to explode on him wanting him to unleash on Acard.

  “I’m done pying,” came the low and controlled voice of Acard as he appeared out of nowhere.

  “Wha?” – was all Vincent could utter before Acard kneed him in the chin with a sickening crunch. It knocked him back hard, and he flopped against the ground with thud.

  Then, as he y there looking up into the sky, his eyes went wide as Acard appeared above him in a fsh, coming down on Vincent as he spun around, kicking his leg in a whipping motion. When it connected, Vincent let out a cry of pain from the thunderous strike that resounded against him and sent a small shockwave moving in all directions, and then…

  Darkness took him again.

  .   .   .

  Vincent blinked his eyes open to Shay Grave examining him again, her chest in his face. Embarrassed, he blushed and tried to move away, but groaned as he realized he couldn’t move one of his arms, which to his wide-eyed amazement was twisted oddly. A sharp pain shot through his body, resonating in his chest. Shay Grave had opened his shirt and was examining the bruise that had stretched in all directions on his bare chest, her hands felt cold as they moved over his skin.

  “W-what happened to me?” Vincent groaned in an incoherent manner as if he had marshmallows in his mouth.

  She leaned back, crossing her legs and arms. “You’ve taken quite the damage there.”

  “I’m sorry to trouble you, doc,” he said, propping himself up with a groan, his voice becoming clearer to understand.

  “Hmmm,” she said, tilting her head and looking over his shoulder to something behind him, her eyes curious and aware. “What is that?”

  As Vincent turned to look, she moved to his side in a swift motion, like the cracking of a whip, and grabbed his broken arm, moving in a precise movement as she snapped and cracked it back into pce. Vincent let out a yelp, passing out from the pain.

  A few moments ter, he woke again and groaned, sitting up with a groggy feeling. His broken arm throbbed and was hard to move. Wait… He could move his arm? The one that had been twisted oddly. Barely, though. He sucked in air as he felt the pain pulsate through it as his consciousness came back. His whole body throbbed but… didn’t throb as much as before.

  “Ugh,” he said, falling back against the exam table. “Why’d you do that?”

  “Fix your arm?” she asked with a scent of sarcasm. She picked his arm up again, which made him yelp. “I can easily put it back.” She began to move it in the direction it had been twisted.

  “No, no,” he said, pleading with her. “I’m fine, really.”

  She dropped it and it made him wince.

  He clenched his teeth, and flexed his arm, moving his fingers into fists. It hurt so much, yet… How was he able to move his arm after it had been broken like that? “How, is this possible?” It really was weird, and with each passing moment, the throbbing lessened ever so slightly.

  “Ah, the miracles of healing,” Shay Grave said, watching him with a slight smile.

  How could he heal so easily from something so devastating? Then again, he recalled it being that way since he was a child. His bruises, scrapes, and even a broken bone here and there. They were bad, but… With each one, each time, he had miraculously healed up, not one doctor had been baffled. Perhaps the doctors his parents had taken him to were supernatural beings just like Shay Grave.

  “Pain is a good thing,” she said. “It means you are alive and thriving.” She then leaned back and crossed her legs, pushing her gsses against her face. “How did this come about? Did you slip and fall off a roof again or run into something without looking where you were going?”

  Why did this woman assume he did idiotic things? He wasn’t stupid.

  “It seems like it is some sort of blunt force trauma,” she said, looking at bruise with those dark eyes of hers. “Did you get in a fight with a tree?”

  “No,” Vincent said with a scoff. “Werewolf cssmate.” He rubbed at the bruise.

  “Ah,” Shay said with a knowing nod. “Well,” she said, taking his arm and moving it around, which made him wince as it was still tender. “It seems to be doing alright now. As you’re not a vampire, you’ll have to give it a good night’s rest to feel fully healed. Can you manage that without getting yourself into trouble again?”

  She handed him two paper cups again. One with pills, one with water. “Take these for the pain.” She smirked, and he wasn’t sure why she was smirking.

  He downed the pills.

  She sat back, crossing her arms under her chest, which made Vincent looked away because her cleavage was more pronounced from that movement.

  She smirked, this time as if to say, naughty boy, then said, “If that’s all, you may leave.” And then she turned to her computer and began to type away.

  .   .   .

  “I’m never gonna hear the end of this, am I?” Vincent said as he and Isabel made their way back to css. He rubbed his tender chest and wondered when the medicine would kick in because the throbbing was quite unpleasant.

  Isabel nodded. “I suppose.” She looked disappointed, let down.

  Vincent stopped her. “Hey, what’s the matter?” As he stared at her, he his body become light, the pain fading away. The medicine must have been kicking in.

  “Why did you fight?” she asked, looking scared to confront him.

  “I told you,” he said, unsure of many things, but not this. “I had to.”

  “Had to,” she said, reluctance on her face as if doubting him. “You didn’t have to do anything.”

  “Well, maybe I did it because it felt like the right thing to do.”

  “That’s my point,” she said, stomping her foot. “It shouldn’t feel good, or right. You should feel…” she shook he head in frustration. “Ah, never mind.”

  “I get what you’re saying,” he said, ying a hand on her shoulder. “But you gotta let me make my own choices.” She frowned at this. “I appreciate your concern, though.”

  “Even so,” she added, turning her face from him, arms folded in disagreement. “You tried your best and faced your fear, so I suppose that was oaky, even if it was foolish.” She looked back at him, smiling and turning red in the cheeks.

  “That’s me,” he said, chuckling and rubbing the back of his neck. “A foolish idiot.”

  She ughed.

  “Also,” he said, clenching his hand into a fist. “I felt the Beast Mind.”

  Isbel gnced at him, blinking. “Yeah?”

  “It was like a force pulling me forward, pushing me onward.” He blinked, thinking about his words as he spoke them. “Telling me to fight, to unleash, and so I did. And it felt good.” He wanted to experience that feeling again. “But also,” he continued, thinking back to the moment. “It was scary as if I was losing myself, but the rush felt so good so I just let it take me.”

  “That’s what the Beast Mind does,” Isabel said. “It takes control, grabs you with furious precision, and you let it because it does feel good to give into those animalistic instincts, those desires.” She gave him a reassuring nod. “Even so, it was still you that fought Acard.” She pressed her fingers together. “While I don’t condone what you did, I still think it was very brave.” She beamed at him.

  “Yeah, it was,” Vincent said with a chuckle. “Wasn’t it?”

  “Just be careful with the Beast Mind,” she said, caution in her voice. “There’s a lot you need to learn about the Power of the Were.”

  “The power of the what now?”

  “Werewolf abilities are known as the Power of the Were,” she said. “You’ll learn about them from Mr. B.” For once, she didn’t want to expin everything to him. Besides, it would do him some good to figure it out on his own.

  “Okay,” Vincent said, running a hand through his hair, not sure what to think about it all. “It’s just so… overwhelming.” He suddenly felt light and teetered on the spot, almost feinting, but caught himself. At least that is what he thought. What actually happened was he fell forward, and Isabel caught him from falling. “I think I need to sit down,” he said, wearily.

  “Easy,” she said, helping him slide down to the floor and propping him up against the wall. “Take it easy now.”

  They sat there for a moment, Vincent’s feeling of being overwhelmed with a mixture of medication making his vision go from clear to blurry and back again.

  He didn’t know how long they had sat there, but Isabel broke the silence. “I know this is all scary and confusing,” she said, rubbing the toes of her shoes together. “But I can help you out. I’m here for you if you ever need anything, okay?”

  “Thanks,” he said, staring ahead as he blinked and felt his crity come back. “Well, shall we get back to css?”

  “Sure,” she said, turning her eyes to meet his. That’s when her cuteness really hit him. She was close, so he got a good look at her as his mind was clear, or perhaps unclear, he wasn’t really sure what was going on. But what he hadn’t realized before was how cute she was. Her energy, and demeanor, both were endearing, and they pulled to him. Was this because of her vampire abilities, or was this something else? He couldn’t be sure. Plus, he was loopy from the drugs, so he couldn’t trust himself.

  And it wasn’t like he was attracted to her, nor did she exude the sexual energy that Shay and Mizuki seemed to, but more just like the energy of being a little sister that he wanted to protect and be there for, even though it was her that was basically offering her goodwill and protection to him. It was nice, and he had a feeling about his friendship with her, a good feeling.

  He smiled as they stood together. “Hey, Isabel?” She turned to him again, those eyes so deep and dark and wonderful in an endearing way. “Thanks for being my friend.”

  She beamed at him. “You’re welcome.”

  As they moved down the hallway, Isabel smiled, thinking that maybe, just maybe, she could make something happen with Vincent, and that pleased her very much.

  .   .   .

  As the two of them returned to css, Acard narrowed his eyes and gave a fake smile, cpping his hands in a mocking fashion as he said, “Oh, look, the hero returns.”

  He’s such a dick, Vincent thought with a growl, wanting to engage him, but knowing better than to antagonize him. Besides, the throbbing in his chest and arm reminded him to keep his cool.

  Max gave a silly thumbs up, finishing off his popcorn. “You fought your heart out there, buddy. That’s what matters.” While Max was super awkward, Vincent appreciated his words.

  Vincent shrugged and frowned. “But I lost.”

  “Yeah, you did,” Acard said with a chuckle, leaning back and kicking his feet up on his desk. He stretched and yawned. “Now you’ll know better than to challenge your betters.”

  Vincent clenched his fists, wanting nothing more than to growl something at him.

  “Don’t listen to that jerk,” Mizuki said, cutting in. “You didn’t back down to a fight that was clearly out of your favor. You’ve got guts, kid.”

  When Vincent met Mizuki’s eyes, he felt warm, as if he was sitting next to a cozy firepce.

  Acard just scowled at her comment.

  It felt good to have support, to have… friends? Were these his friends? Whatever it was, it felt good. “Thanks, guys,” he said with a nod and smile.

  “Nothing to thank us about, man,” Max said with another thumbs up and an additional wink. “We got your back.”

  Mizuki also gave Vincent a nod.

  “Whether you band together, train together, are friendly together, bh, bh, bh,” Acard said with a knowing sigh. “I’ll always be better than you, chump.” Why did he always have to call him a chump? It really got under his skin, and Vincent supposed that is why Acard continued to say it.

  “I’m not a chump,” Vincent said through clenched jaw.

  “Oh, and how’s that? Did I not pummel you today?” He chuckled, his tone mocking. “Did you not pass out from my mighty kick? That makes you a chump in my book.”

  Vinent growled, but Mizuki cut in again.

  “I’m sure it’s easy to act all high and mighty when you beat down a clueless newbie, no offense, Vincent.”

  Whoa, Vincent thought. That was kinda harsh, but he knew she meant good so he let it slide. Besides, Acard really needed a taste of his own medicine, and Vincent was a newbie and outcssed, so… Maybe Mizuki could dish it out to him as she seemed strong enough to deliver. It made Vincent think about what it would take to gain that kind of strength within himself? To gain the confidence to beat Acard in a fight.

  “Take me on, though,” she said, standing to face him. “And I promise to light your fire.” She had a huge grin, as if wanting nothing more than to burn him to a crisp.

  Acard gave a zy smile, his eyes moving up and down her body like a hormone induced male checking out bikini cd girls at the beach. “As much as I enjoy flirting you, I’m done fighting weaklings today.” He slouched in his seat and closed his eyes as if he was going to take a nap.

  “Big words for a little boy,” Mizuki said in a tantalizing tone. “Or a mutt.” The way she said mutt made Acard flinch.

  “Say that again,” Acard snarled, leaning forward and smming his hand on his desk.

  “You’re all bark and no bite,” she said, spreading her arms to either side. “It’s not as if beating a newbie is some amazing feat. If you’re as strong as you think, wolf boy, then show me. Or are you just a scared little dog on the inside?”

  Acard pushed himself to his feet, eyes leveling on her.

  “You’re the type to take the easy route, beating on newbies,” she continued in her mocking tone. “Then chalk it up to some wonderful feat, when it is nothing but boastful ziness.”

  Acard let out a low growl and clenched his fist. “Fine,” he said, showing his fangs in a toothy grin. “You want a fight? I’ll give you a fight.” He grabbed his desk and flung it at her as if it was a paperback book being flung across the room.

  .   .   .