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The atmosphere grew tense, almost electric. Snow crunched beneath the weight of those present, the cold air barely noticeable against the anticipation that thickened with every passing second. Eleazar, arms crossed, observed them both. His eyes flicked from Nate to Kate and back, searching for something in their gestures, in their stances. For a moment, a flicker of doubt crossed his mind, a whisper that made him hold his breath. But when he saw that they were both perfectly positioned, ready, he let out a resigned sigh and took a few steps back.
He raised his hand solemnly and announced firmly:
"Begin."
Nate planted his feet firmly in the snow, leaning his body slightly forward, arms prepared, tension etched into his muscles. Across from him, Kate didn't hesitate: she lunged forward with swift, almost feline movements, eyes flashing with the spark of someone unwilling to lose twice to the same opponent.
She had already experienced the brutality of one of his kicks. She remembered too well the sharp impact, the pain, and the humiliation. This time, she wouldn't fall for the same trick.
As Nate adjusted his stance, hinting at a direct kick to her stomach, Kate smiled mid-run. She had seen it coming. She lowered her arm, ready to intercept the kick and use her gift to neutralize it.
But Nate, with a calm that froze the blood, lifted his leg a few inches higher than usual, and instead of striking the torso, his foot hit Kate squarely in the face. The blow echoed hollowly, and in an instant, the young woman's body was sent flying several meters, raising a cloud of snow that spread like breath in the cold air.
Eleazar's eyes widened, surprised, tracking her trajectory until she landed heavily in the snow.
Kate, furious, gritted her teeth as she recovered, the skin on her cheek slightly cracked from the impact. A growl of rage escaped her throat as she lunged at him again, this time lowering her stance, making herself a harder target to kick.
Nate, never taking his eyes off her, spun with calculated grace, as if he had trained that move a thousand times. And when Kate came close enough, he struck with the back of his hand in a brutal swipe. The impact was sharp, sending her airborne once more.
Snow rose again as Kate fell for the second time. Her breathing was heavy, her anger building with every fiber of her being. She got up with a frown, lips pressed tight, her fury almost tangible in her gaze.
Eleazar, however, didn't take his eyes off Nate. His face reflected something more complex than surprise; he seemed to be calculating, analyzing each of the young man's moves, as if trying to solve a precise equation.
In a low voice, almost a whisper to himself, he said:
"He seems to be holding back."
The comment didn't escape Kate's ears. Her gaze flicked to him, and upon hearing those words, her anger transformed into something sharper: humiliation. Feeling that Nate wasn't fighting seriously, that the one who had made her bite the snow twice in a row was still holding back, was more painful than any physical blow.
A stifled roar escaped her throat, and with renewed fury, she propelled herself at Nate, determined to show she didn't need mercy or limits.
Kate ran forward, intending to strike again, but stopped abruptly a few meters from Nate. The memory of the two previous times still burned her pride; she knew that if she lunged recklessly, he would use her momentum and she'd end up in the snow again. She clenched her jaw, assumed a guard, and advanced in slow, calculated steps, keeping just the right distance.
Her mind buzzed with a single thought: she only needed one contact, a single touch, and everything would go her way. Yet Nate stood firm, unmoved, as if her reaching him meant nothing.
He watched her silently. His red eyes, intense and penetrating, radiated a fierce presence that chilled the air between them. His face remained serene, almost indifferent, as if this confrontation were nothing more than a pastime, a game in which he always had the advantage.
From the house's facade, Laurent sought a better angle to not miss a detail of the fight. His eyes narrowed, intrigued. It wasn't the first time he noticed it, but this time it was more evident: when Nate entered combat, he seemed to transform. His posture became darker, his style more ruthless and precise, almost cruel. The warmth he showed beside Alice vanished completely, giving way to a fighter who saw battle not as a risk but as a calculated procedure.
Kate, still circling Nate in short arcs, noticed that indifference on his face and felt her anger rising. Each time she saw that expression, as if he measured her effortlessly and without concern, the fury within her ignited stronger.
Kate closed the distance slowly, her firm steps sinking into the icy snow. Her golden eyes shone with contained fury, and when she raised her fists, she moved with lightning speed. Her blows began to fall in rapid bursts, barely distinguishable in trajectory, as if her arms sliced through the air with sharp whistles.
Nate didn't move violently, but with precise motion. His body rotated just enough, his shoulders tilted with mathematical accuracy, dodging each strike as if he already knew the path of every attack before it happened. When a punch seemed certain to graze him, Nate raised his hand instantly, striking Kate's arm with an open palm, redirecting the trajectory without ever touching her bare skin. His fingers targeted only the material of her jacket, careful to the last detail.
Frustration began to rise in Kate, visible in the tightening of her jaw and the fire in her eyes. Each time she thought she cornered him, Nate disarmed her with a simple deflection. She clenched her teeth, leapt agilely backward, and without hesitation tore off her jacket. She was left with a short-sleeved blouse exposing the skin where her gift pulsed. A fierce smile crossed her face.
"Come on! Don't hold back! All you do is defend yourself!?" she roared, her arms trembling with the energy that began to surge through her.
Nate squinted, and his deep, controlled voice cut through the cold air.
"If we continue… I'll end up hurting you."
Mockery snapped from Kate's lips like a whip.
"Do it if you can! Because I won't hesitate!"
Her arms began to tremble slightly, charged with her gift coursing through every tendon and vein like a river of fire. With a wild scream, she lunged at Nate, enveloped in her own power.
For a moment, Nate's face darkened. His aura shifted, heavy, almost oppressive. His eyes glowed a shadowed red, and his expression became that of a predator ready to strike without restraint. Eleazar, who had until then observed silently, widened his eyes in alarm and shouted to stop them.
"Enough!"
But his voice was lost in the thunder of Kate's steps as she launched like a lightning bolt toward Nate.
He moved with impossible speed. Sliding under Kate's leap, he appeared behind her and, with a precise palm strike to her lower back, made her stagger violently. Kate growled, seeking balance, and reflexively swiped backward, the force of her gift running through her fingers like gleaming blades.
Nate twisted his torso just enough, eyes blazing, opening his palm in a clean arc. The cut descended over the junction of Kate's shoulder and arm, striking with brutal precision.
Kate's scream tore through the air as her arm separated, and instinctively she gripped the opposite hand to the stump, clutching it as pain surged through her.
Nate stepped back. Even in that brief contact, the pain hit him like lightning; a fierce jolt coursed through his body, shaking him from within. His breathing became heavy, but he didn't stop.
Kate tried to recover, her fury still burning despite the mutilation. Nate, leaving no space, jumped lightly upward. His leg fell like an axe on Kate's head, slamming her into the hardened snow. The impact echoed like a dull thunderclap.
Before she could rise, Nate advanced swiftly and firmly, pressing her back to the ground with the sole of his foot. The snow compressed beneath their bodies.
"That's enough!" he roared, his aura enveloping him like a chained beast about to break free.
The makeshift training ground fell silent, broken only by Kate's heavy breathing and the crunch of snow beneath her still body.
Kate lay on the ground, Nate's foot pressing her back against the icy snow. She felt the gravity in his voice, that firmness allowing no reply, and understood there was no escape. With a slow sigh, she lowered her head into the cold white and admitted defeat.
Nate removed his foot and stepped back, breathing steadily, red eyes still glowing with an unsettling ferocity. That gesture of stepping away, marking distance after asserting dominance, reminded him of how he had treated Victoria in the past. Anger began to stir within him, but he forced himself to remain calm. The Denalis were not enemies, he reminded himself.
Eleazar hurried to help Kate to her feet. Laurent, meanwhile, ran to where her severed arm had fallen and carefully retrieved it. He knelt in front of Kate and began precisely reattaching it. The process was long and tense: several minutes during which Nate could only watch. Kate closed her eyes, teeth clenched, enduring the pain, her ragged breaths resonating in the winter silence.
Finally, a brief, sharp crack broke the stillness. The joint clicked into place, the skin gradually closing, and the arm returned to its proper position. Kate exhaled a deep, relieved sigh and murmured with a tired grimace:
"We were lucky… the cut was clean. Otherwise, it would have taken longer to heal."
Eleazar, calmer seeing her recovered, turned to Nate. The young vampire remained motionless, gaze lost in a distant point, trapped in his own thoughts. Eleazar approached slowly and spoke in a calm voice:
"Don't worry, no one blames you. We were all novices once… It's hard to control yourself. And Kate didn't make it easy either."
The words drew a snort of annoyance from Kate. She trudged away, snow crunching under her boots. Passing Nate, she paused briefly, though she didn't look directly at him. Her voice, rough but sincere, broke the tension.
"Don't be ashamed of being good at what you do… you're definitely an impressive warrior."
Without waiting for a reply, she continued toward the house and disappeared through the door.
The three remaining vampires stayed silent for a few more seconds, letting the echo of the confrontation fade into the cold air. Laurent broke the quiet, conciliatory:
"I think we should calm down and relax. We'll have more time to explore Nathaniel's ability later…"
Eleazar nodded, agreeing. He placed a firm, understanding hand on Nate's back, guiding him gently toward the house. Together, with tension still lingering, they returned to the warmth of home.
Inside, calm gradually replaced the intensity of the duel. Laurent and Eleazar moved toward a corner near the fireplace, immediately resuming a lively conversation. Their tone fluctuated between scientific fascination and wild speculation, each throwing out theories about what they had witnessed in Nate. They discussed his anticipatory abilities, the way he seemed to control his movements with a calculated instinct, almost as if he had studied Kate beforehand. Neither could structure a definitive hypothesis, but both were too excited to stop.
Nate, on the other hand, seemed tired of the scrutiny. He walked slowly to a sofa, took a small music player from a side table, and put on nearby headphones. He sank into the couch, arms crossed, closing his eyes as music filled his mind. He wasn't seeking distraction—he was trying to quell the fire inside, the insidious anxiety that still demanded more combat.
Kate, calmer after regaining her composure, settled on another sofa. She held the same book she had been reading earlier and, with measured gestures, got lost in its pages again. Yet, despite trying to appear indifferent, she couldn't help glancing up occasionally, throwing furtive looks at Nate. Her eyes studied him with a mix of curiosity and confusion, trying to understand what kind of being this boy really was—the one who could transform in seconds into a fierce and relentless force.
Hours passed slowly. The constant murmur of Eleazar and Laurent's conversation filled the room, full of ideas ranging from plausible to impossible. Kate turned pages calmly, her mind drifting repeatedly toward the young man who remained relaxed a few meters away. Nate had left the headphones on the table, leaning back, exhaling a long sigh as if trying to shake off an invisible weight.
Then something changed. A familiar scent reached him, sharp, unmistakable. His senses reacted before his mind; he sat up alert on the sofa. Not long after, clear, vibrant laughter approached from outside, growing closer. The sound filtered in from the house entrance, followed by the echo of footsteps and female voices, filling the air with freshness and lightness.
The door opened, and the group of girls returned home, radiating energy. They carried several shopping bags, some hanging from their arms, others held carelessly while sharing stories from their small excursion. Their relaxed expressions contrasted sharply with the heavy atmosphere that had dominated the house that afternoon. The living room, which had held suppressed tension, was immediately infused with the vitality and carefree spark of their return.
The girls settled into the living room, leaving bags scattered around, as if the contents of each package infused the space with the promise of comfort and novelty.
Alice, her bright smile almost radiant, approached Nate with confident, purposeful steps. Without hesitation, she perched on his lap, settling naturally as if the space had always belonged to her. Her face leaned toward him, depositing a soft, brief, playful kiss on his cheek before asking, with a mischievous, curious glint in her eyes:
"How was it for you while I was gone?"
Nate couldn't help but smile. He felt the weight of her body, the firmness of her presence, and the comfort of closeness. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his hands into the softness of her back, and with a tender gesture, kissed the tip of her nose. In a low voice, barely hiding his satisfaction, he replied:
"Nothing too interesting happened…"
The exchange immediately caught the attention of the others. Tanya watched with a mix of amusement and complicity, while Kate maintained an expression of surprise and confusion. For her, the scene was a disconcerting contrast: the fierce, almost relentless Nate she had met hours earlier now appeared warm, almost human.
Tanya turned to her sister, seeing Kate's eyes tracking Nate's every move insistently. A playful smile curved her lips before she spoke teasingly:
"I see you're calmer now, Kate…"
Kate barely lifted her gaze, skeptical and feigning disinterest, before returning to her book as if her sister's attention wasn't worth more effort. Tanya, far from offended, let out a soft laugh and added, still amused:
"I'm glad. I thought by now you'd have let yourself go, and you and Nate would be tearing each other apart…"
The comment hung in the air, provoking a moment of surprise. Kate's eyes widened, clearly caught off guard. Eleazar frowned, uncomfortable with Tanya's certainty, while Laurent barely stifled a laugh behind his hand. Tanya, not fully understanding the others' reactions, raised her eyebrows and asked innocently:
"What? Did I say something wrong?"
Nate remained calm, as if unaffected. He gently lifted Alice from his lap, holding her securely so she wouldn't lose balance. With a kind and protective gesture, he offered to help carry the bags. Delighted, Alice took his hand, gathered all the purchases, and followed him toward the room they would share.