Iris's POV
I collapsed in the library at two in the morning.
One month of brutal training had turned my body into a map of bruises. Purple. Yellow. Green. Every color pain could make.
But I was down to twelve knockdowns per session now. From seventeen to twelve in four weeks.
Progress. Real, measurable progress.
Except my body was breaking faster than it could heal.
I'd been studying supernatural combat theory for three hours. Trying to find weaknesses. Patterns. Anything that could help me improve faster.
My head hit the table hard enough to make the books bounce.
"Ow," I muttered into the wood.
"That's one way to take a break."
I jerked my head up. A boy stood there. Tall, messy brown hair, glasses that kept sliding down his nose. His fingers sparked with tiny purple lights.
Witch.
"Sorry," he said quickly. "Didn't mean to scare you. I'm Thaddeus. People call me Tad." He pushed his glasses up. They immediately slid back down. "You're Iris Hale. The human in Professor Frost's advanced program."
"That's me." I sat up straighter. Every muscle protested. "The crazy human who keeps getting beaten up."
"The human who's lasted a month in training that makes vampires quit." Tad gestured to the chair across from me. "Mind if I sit?"
"Sure."
He sat down, still sparking with that purple magic. "I've been watching your training sessions. You're improving fast. Really fast for someone without supernatural healing."
"Not fast enough," I said. "I need to get better faster."
"Why?" Tad leaned forward. "And don't say it's just about proving yourself. There's something else. I can see it in how you fight."
Smart witch. Too smart.
"Someone told me I was weak," I said carefully. "I'm proving him wrong."
"Caspian Ravencourt." Tad pushed his glasses up again. "Your rejected mate. Everyone knows."
My face burned. "Great. School gossip."
"Not gossip. Fact." Tad's expression turned serious. "And here's another fact: your body can't keep up with your determination. You're healing too slowly. Getting injured too often. Eventually, you'll break something that won't heal right."
I knew he was right. Last week, I'd cracked a rib. It still hurt every time I breathed.
"So what do I do?" I asked. "Quit? Give up?"
"No." Tad's fingers sparked brighter. "You let me help you."
I blinked. "Help me how?"
"I'm studying magical combat enhancement. Spells that make fighters stronger, faster, better. Temporary boosts that don't break competition rules." He pulled out a small vial from his pocket. Purple liquid swirled inside. "This is a healing supplement. Speeds up injury recovery by about thirty percent."
"Why would you help me?" I asked suspiciously. "What do you want?"
Tad smiled. It was a nice smile. Genuine. "Data. You're the perfect test subject. A human pushing herself beyond normal limits. If my spells can help you, they can help anyone."
"So I'd be your experiment?"
"You'd be my training partner," he corrected. "I help you get stronger. You help me perfect my magic. We both win."
I looked at the vial. Then at Tad. His eyes were bright with excitement and something else. Respect, maybe.
"Is it safe?" I asked.
"Completely. I've tested it on myself for months. No side effects except faster healing." He pushed the vial toward me. "One dose after training. Your bruises will heal in days instead of weeks."
Days instead of weeks. That would change everything.
"What about strength?" I asked. "Can you make me stronger?"
Tad's smile got bigger. "I have spells for temporary strength boosts. Nothing permanent. Nothing that would give you an unfair advantage. Just enough to help you train harder without destroying yourself."
"Professor Frost would allow this?"
"He already approved it," Tad said. "I asked him this morning. He said if you agreed, I could work with you. As long as everything stays within competition rules."
I picked up the vial. The purple liquid glowed softly.
"Why do you really want to help me?" I asked quietly.
Tad's expression turned serious again. "Because watching you train is the most incredible thing I've ever seen. You're human. You shouldn't be able to do what you're doing. But you keep showing up. Keep fighting. Keep improving."
He pushed his glasses up. They stayed this time.
"You're going to do something impossible," he said. "And I want to help make it happen."
Something warm spread through my chest. Not the mate bond. Something different. Friendship, maybe.
"Okay," I said. "Let's try it."
Tad's whole face lit up. "Really?"
"Really. But if your spells turn me purple or make me grow an extra arm, I'm blaming you."
He laughed. It was a good laugh. Warm and genuine and a little bit dorky.
"I promise no extra body parts," he said. "Want to start tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow's perfect."
We spent the next hour talking about training theory. Tad knew so much about combat magic. About how to use spells to enhance physical abilities. About weaknesses in supernatural fighting styles.
He was brilliant. Funny. Easy to talk to.
And he treated me like an equal. Not a weak human. Not a rejected mate. Just Iris.
"I should get to bed," I said finally. The library clock showed three in the morning. "Training at dawn."
"I'll meet you after," Tad said. "We can start testing the supplements."
He walked me back to my dorm. We talked the whole way. About magic. About training. About everything except the rejection.
It was nice. Normal. Like having a friend who didn't pity me.
"Thanks, Tad," I said at my door. "For wanting to help."
"Thank
you," he said. "For being brave enough to try the impossible."
I went inside. Petra was already asleep. I changed quietly and climbed into bed.
My body ached. My ribs hurt. My bruises throbbed.
But for the first time in a month, I felt hope that wasn't just anger and determination.
I had an ally now. Someone who believed I could do this.
I fell asleep smiling.
The next day's training went like always. Brutal. Painful. Bloody.
Eleven knockdowns. One better than yesterday.
Tad was waiting when I limped out of the arena. He had a backpack full of vials and notebooks.
"Ready?" he asked.
"Ready."
We found an empty training room. Tad pulled out the purple vial.
"Drink this. Then we'll work on strength enhancement spells."
I drank it. The liquid tasted like berries and lightning. Warm and electric.
Immediately, my bruises started tingling. Not hurting. Just... buzzing with healing energy.
"Whoa," I whispered.
"Works fast, right?" Tad grinned. "Now. Let's see what we can do about making you stronger."
We trained together for two hours. He cast spells that made my muscles feel less tired. Spells that helped me move faster for short bursts. Spells that dulled pain without numbing me completely.
He was patient. Encouraging. Brilliant.
And he never once made me feel weak.
"This is going to change everything," I said as we finished.
"That's the plan." Tad pushed his glasses up. "Same time tomorrow?"
"Same time tomorrow."
I headed back to my dorm feeling lighter than I had in weeks. My bruises were already fading. My body felt better. Stronger.
What I didn't see was Tad standing in the empty training room after I left.
Watching the door I'd walked through.
His expression had changed. No more friendly smile. No more dorky glasses-pushing.
Something else showed in his eyes now.
Something intense. Focused. Deep.
He touched his chest where his heart was. Purple magic sparked between his fingers.
"You're going to do it," he whispered to the empty room. "You're going to prove them all wrong. And I'm going to be right there helping you."
His magic flared brighter. The purple light reflected in his eyes.
"Even if you never see me the way I see you."
He stood there for a long moment. Then gathered his things and left.
And in the shadows of the observation deck above, someone else had been watching the entire training session.
Caspian Ravencourt stood frozen. He'd come to check on Iris like he did every day.
But he hadn't expected to see her laughing with another boy.
Working with him. Trusting him.
Smiling at him.
And he definitely hadn't expected the way that witch boy looked at her when she wasn't watching.
Like she was something precious. Important.
Worthy.
Caspian's hands gripped the railing hard enough to hurt.
His wolf stirred. Not with rage this time.
With something much more dangerous.
Jealousy.