Chapter 259
Shoal presses forward, footwork elegant, trying to box Wake in with a series of light, teasing strikes—testing defenses. Wake gives him nothing. He moves like a shadow, his staff flicking out to block, twist, and counter. His blade comes back into play, this time low and fast, aiming for Shoal’s thigh.
Shoal hops back with a grunt, just barely avoiding the cut.
“You’ve gotten faster,” Shoal says, circling.
“You’ve gotten slower,” Wake replies flatly.
They dance again.
Wake spins his staff with a flick of his wrist, creating a blur of motion before bringing it down with a savage crack. Shoal blocks it with both forearms, gritting his teeth as the force drives him to one knee.
But he recovers.
His counter is clean—a rising slash meant to force Wake back. Wake doesn’t budge. He slips under the arc and slams the heel of his boot into Shoal’s stomach, sending him skidding backward across the mat.
Shoal coughs and rises, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth.
“Still think this is about making friends?” Wake growls.
“I think,” Shoal replies evenly. “That there’s more than one way to win a war.”
They charge again.
This time, Shoal changes tactics. He drops low, twisting past Wake’s initial strike, and grabs for the staff. They grapple over it, their forearms straining with effort, muscles flexing as each tries to rip the weapon from the other. Wake shoves him back, letting go and spinning with the momentum to send a punch directly into Shoal’s jaw.
It lands with a sickening thud.
Shoal stumbles but recovers quickly. He retaliates with a spinning backhand, his blade slashing across Wake’s bicep—a shallow wound, but a clean one. Blood wells instantly.
My breath catches.
Wake doesn’t even glance at it.
Instead, he surges forward and throws Shoal.
Literally.
He hooks a foot behind his brother’s and slams his shoulder into Shoal’s chest, sending him flipping over and landing hard on his back with a grunt. Wake pounces—but Shoal rolls out of reach, coming to his feet and swinging high.
Their blades meet in mid-air.
Sparks fly.
Shoal’s style is more polished, I realize—clearly influenced by formal training. His attacks are deliberate, balanced. Wake, on the other hand, fights like someone who has bled for every breath. His style is alive. Improvised. Dangerous.
And still—Shoal holds his own.
I don’t know whether to be impressed or worried.
They circle again, both breathing harder now, both bloodied.
Shoal feints left and jabs right—Wake ducks, catches Shoal’s wrist, and twists until Shoal hisses in pain and drops his weapon. Wake kicks it aside, then knocks him back with a palm to the chest.
Shoal staggers.
But instead of retreating, he lowers his stance, arms out to the side, unarmed.
“Come on, then,” he says, grinning. “Let’s see if your fists are as fast as your mouth.”
Wake snarls—and obliges.
They collide.
Fist to fist, elbow to rib, knee to thigh. It’s brutal, raw. A flurry of blows that blur the line between training and real combat. Shoal gets in a solid uppercut. Wake lands a strike to the side of Shoal’s head that makes him stagger.
They go on like this, trading blow for blow, their unnaturally high tolerance for taking one hit after another is the only thing keeping them standing. But before either can land the final blow—
The alarm blares.
The klaxon tears through the silence, flashing red lights pulsing across the ceiling. The walls seem to shudder with it, and I spin toward the door just as it slams open.
Lily St. Cloud barrels in, breathless and visibly shaken. “Containment breach,” she says, barely getting the words out. “You need to come. Now.”
Shoal straightens immediately, the tension in his body hardening to steel. “Where?”
“The holding wing. East sector.” Lily’s face is pale, eyes wide with something that looks a lot like fear.
Shoal nods and starts toward her. Wake doesn’t move. “What kind of breach?”
“One of the Elder Kin,” she says. “We don’t know how, but the restraints failed. It’s already killed two of the guards.”
Cora curses under her breath, already stepping into motion. I glance back at Wake, who’s frozen in place, chest still heaving from the fight, his eyes flickering between his brother and the door.
Shoal doesn’t wait. He takes off down the corridor, Lily on his heels.
Wake growls low in his throat and follows.
I hesitate only a second before running after them, my heart slamming against my ribs like a drumbeat.
A containment breach.
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