James walked with the team toward the outer grounds, the weight of Everhart's declaration still settling on his shoulders. A unit. He glanced at the others: Kara, practically bouncing with restless energy; Xander, silently analyzing the wind patterns; Luna, serene as ever; and Drake, a quiet mountain of stoicism.
The memory of yesterday's training drill was still fresh—a chaotic mess of Kara's fire accidentally singeing the edge of Drake's cloak, and Xander's focused air currents sending James's practice dummy flying sideways into a tree. They weren't a unit yet, just a collection of powerful, clashing parts. As they stepped onto the outer grounds proper, the unease was palpable.
A low growl from the trees ahead shattered the tense silence. A pack of Shadowfang Wolves emerged, their fur the color of cooling embers, their eyes glowing with a malevolent intelligence that went beyond simple animal cunning.
"Formation!" James snapped, the Valorian command leaving his lips before he could stop it.
Kara shot him an incredulous look. "What formation? We don't have one!"
The wolves didn't wait. They lunged.
Instinct took over. Kara threw up a wall of fire, not a controlled barrier but a wild, desperate wave that forced the lead wolves to scatter. On the flank, Xander tried to create a vacuum to pull the pack off-balance, but misjudged the atmospheric pressure; his effect sputtered, only managing to disorient a single wolf before dissipating.
Two of the beasts, unaffected, broke through the chaos and charged directly at Luna.
Drake moved, not with practiced grace, but with brute force, putting his body between Luna and the wolves. He caught the first with a deafening impact, but the second raked its claws down his arm, drawing blood. He roared in pain and fury, shoving the wolf away.
A cold dread, sharp and absolute, shot through James. He saw Luna's wide eyes, Drake's blood, and the snarling maw of the wolf preparing for a second lunge. The familiar heat ignited in his chest, a thrumming hum that vibrated through his bones.
NO!!
He didn't think. He acted. He threw himself in front of Drake, his hand outstretched not to strike, but to shield. The air in front of his palm rippled, distorting like heat haze over asphalt. The lunging wolf slammed into the invisible barrier with a sickening crunch and was thrown back, yelping in confusion and pain.
The sudden, decisive action gave them the opening they needed. Luna's hands glowed, and thorny vines erupted from the ground, snaring the legs of the remaining wolves. Kara's next fiery blast was more focused, a precise arrow of flame that struck the ground before the pack leader, forcing a final, panicked retreat.
They stood in the sudden silence, breathing heavily.
"Drake, are you hurt?" Luna was already at his side, her own hands glowing with a soft, green restorative light.
"I'll live," Drake grunted, wincing as the magic knitted his flesh back together. He looked at James, his eyes narrowed. "What was that? That ripple?"
Before James could even begin to formulate an answer, a slow, mocking clap echoed from the path behind them.
Lucas and his cronies stepped out from the trees. They hadn't come to help. They had been watching the entire spectacle.
"Well, well," Lucas said, his eyes filled with a predatory glee as they swept over their ragged, wounded group. "Look what we have here. The academy's charity cases, playing at being heroes."
His gaze locked onto James, a cruel smirk spreading across his face.
"I think it's time someone taught you your place." He cracked his knuckles, and the air around his fists began to shimmer with raw, crackling power.