Page 52 of Laid Bare

I keep to the outskirts of the class, sticking close to the wall. Groups of students are congregated more toward the middle, though it’s easy to tell that each one is segregated by class. The shifters are in one. Witches and warlocks in another. A small group of fae are in the opposite corner, but that’s normal for them. They don’t really interact with anyone who isn’t fae.

My fuckface opponent seems to think he’s intimidating when he cracks each of knuckles one by one while keeping eye contact with me. Then, with a twist, his neck cracks, each pop audible in the silent room. The other shifters around him pat him on his back, praising him for his bullying tactics.

The growl Zane releases in response has the whole group—even the prick—stepping back. There’s a slight stench in the air, their fear wafting around the room. Giles quickly composes himself after realizing what he did, and somehow, the shifter puffs up bigger, though there’s no way in hell he’d ever reach the size of the demons at my back.

But I’m not phased in the slightest by his display. Yeah, I know today is going to hurt, but here’s the thing. I absolutely refuse to tap out until I get in some hits of my own. Even without the boost of my speed rune, I’m still smaller and faster than he is. It’ll be easy to dart in, throw a punch, and get out. While I know it won’t work each and every time, I’m still more than confident that he’ll leave with a few bruises on his own.

Professor Simmons takes that moment to waltz into the room, not fazed by the open hostility on display. It’s combat class; he’s used to students exhibiting strength tactics in order to frighten their adversaries. And today, the first day of the fights, is when the most posturing happens.

So, to him, this is normal.

The bell rings: class is officially in session. A cheer goes up through the room, the noise deafening to my ears. It’s akin to a war cry, calling upon the bloodlust simmering in everyone’s veins.

Aero’s distress echoes in my soul, and he bumps his muzzle against my belly. It’s his way of telling me to back out. To walk away from what’s going to happen. But I can’t. This is going to happen one way or another. It was only a matter of time before one of the students tried something against me, so it’s better to have it out in a controlled environment than somewhere where anything can happen.

Plus, let’s be real here. I don’t leave my dorm unaccompanied, so there’s no other chance to go against me, except for here, in this class.

“Alright, class. Today is the day we’re going to put all of our hard work into action.” Professor Simmons stands directly in the middle of the mat, his hands on his hips, making eye contact with each of us. “If you remember, a few months ago, we did this very thing. It’s an evaluation of what you learned to see if it’s time to progress you from this class so you can be moved to another you may need.”

A small smile curls the corner of his lips, almost looking like a proud papa gazing at his kids. “The best thing about it, is that when you pass, you’re one step closer to graduating the academy and having a real life outside of these walls.”

The collective cheer that rings out has a different tone to it this time. Less menace and more excitement.

“It’s going to take us two weeks to make it through each of the designated fights, but the fighters of the day will know at the end of class if they’re moving forward or staying until the next set of evaluations.”

Professor Simmons changes his stance, legs spread, arms crossed over his chest. Gone is the proud papa persona for a more ruthless one.

“You know the rules. Only the two designated fighters are allowed in the match. No one else. You will be disqualified if there’s outside help. So tell your friends to stay back and let the match progress how it’s supposed to. If your opponent taps out, the fight is over. If your opponent is unconscious, the fight is over. And the most important rule of them all, and I stress this one more than anything else. No killing.”

There’s a murmur of dismay from the other students, but none of them are brave enough to refute the professor’s words.

“Our first match of the morning is Bailey Matthews and Giles Harding. Giles, speed and strength are on your side given you’re an alpha. Bailey, after speaking with Headmaster Stonewell,” I roll my eyes at his name, “I’ve learned that you’re also able to utilize both strength and speed. So, for this, you’re permitted to use both of those abilities. Giles, no partial and no full shifts are allowed on my mat. This is a human versus human match. Remember that, or there will be an instant disqualification.”

“No problem, Professor,” the slimeball rumbles, laying it on thick. “I don’t need my wolf to put this little girl in her place.” Again, I roll my eyes, but this time, I allow the asshole to actually see it.

“And Bailey, your,” he eyes Aero, obviously not sure what the heck he is, “animal isn’t allowed to intervene either.”

Easier said than done there, Prof. But I don’t voice that out loud.

It’s been a bitch to fight with my own damn soul about this very fight. Especially after learning that if Aero’s weakened, so am I. So there’s been many long nights since the draw of names to convince my Pegasus to stay out of it. He wasn’t happy, not by a long shot.

And let me tell you this, it’s absolute hell to have your own soul rebel against you.

I give the professor a nod of acceptance, not bothering with words. I’ve been in this class long enough that he knows I’m not one to go against the rules.

Giles, on the other hand… This is going to be a shit show.

“Two minutes, fighters. Get ready.” With that, Professor Simmons leaves the middle of the mat, opting to watch from the outskirts. Not too close to get hit by a flying fist, and not far enough away to where he can’t intervene if need be.

Worry shines brightly in Bane’s dark eyes as he takes my bag from me, setting it down in the corner I’ve dubbed my own. Murder rolls off Zane’s in waves, but even I can tell he’s trying his damnedest to tamp it down.

“Listen,” I murmur to the demons, pulling my gray hoodie off and revealing the black sports bra underneath. “I need you guys to hold Aero back if he tries to jump into the fight.” I shimmy out of my matching sweatpants next, the pair of black exercise shorts molding perfectly to my frame. “He shouldn’t, but we all know just how unpredictable he is.”

Aero huffs, displeased with my evaluation of him, but deep down, my own soul knows I’m right.

I quickly adjust my ponytail into a bun on the back of my head, not wanting to give Giles anything he can grab in order to keep me rooted to the spot.

Before I know it, my two minutes are up, and Professor Simmons is calling us to the mat. I don’t miss the twin brooding looks my bodyguards are sporting, but I have to do this. I know that. They know that. Doesn’t mean they have to be happy about it, though.

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