The fight began with a start.
Her front kick snapped forward in a textbook taekwondo chamber, heel driving toward his sternum with surgical precision.
Adam barely pivoted in time, forearm absorbing the impact as he redirected it off-center. The force rattled through him anyway, heavy enough to push him back a full step.
Okay. She's not playing.
He countered immediately, stepping inside her range. Krav Maga favored aggression and efficiency. He threw a low oblique kick toward her knee, aiming to compromise her base.
She pivoted cleanly, shin absorbing the angle before her hand shot out, fingers hooking his wrist. Jujutsu.
She twisted, attempting a kote gaeshi wrist reversal.
Adam rolled with it, flipping his elbow to break the leverage and slamming his free palm toward her clavicle.
She dropped her weight, shoulder-checking him hard.
The impact felt like getting hit by a compact car.
They separated, circling.
Amber came in again, this time with a spinning hook kick. Fast. Ridiculously fast. The arc of her leg cut through the air where his head had been a fraction of a second earlier.
He ducked under, driving forward with a straight punch aimed at her solar plexus.
She let him.
The hit landed.
Solid.
She grinned.
"Oh," she said lightly, stepping back like she'd just been tapped in a game. "You're serious."
Adam flexed his fingers.
He'd been holding back.
Not anymore.
She rushed him with a judo entry, lowering her center of gravity. Her hand latched onto his sleeve, hip turning in for a textbook o-goshi hip throw.
He braced, widening his stance, and drove a knee upward toward her ribs mid-rotation.
She twisted mid-air, using his counter momentum to redirect into a rolling breakfall. She came up fluidly, sweeping her leg low toward his ankle.
Adam jumped, but she was already transitioning.
Her palm struck his shoulder. A jujutsu push. Not to hurt.
To reposition.
She followed with a taekwondo side kick straight to his chest.
He blocked, but the force still launched him backward into a tree.
The trunk shuddered violently. Leaves rained down around him.
His back throbbed.
He straightened slowly.
Alright. Enough playing.
He stepped forward aggressively now. No hesitation.
Krav Maga thrived on direct lines and dirty tactics.
He feinted high, then drove a heel stomp toward her instep. She hopped back, but he followed with a palm strike toward her nose.
It connected.
Her head snapped back.
He didn't give her space.
A rapid elbow to her jaw. A hammerfist to her collarbone. A knee aimed at her thigh.
Each strike landed with controlled brutality.
For a split second, she looked surprised.
He pivoted and delivered a straight right cross that cracked across her cheek hard enough to send her skidding through sand.
She wiped blood from the corner of her mouth.
And smiled.
"Now we're talking."
Her eyes sharpened.
The air shifted.
She exploded forward.
Her movements blurred, combinations flowing seamlessly between disciplines. A taekwondo roundhouse chained directly into a jujutsu wrist capture. When he tried to counter with a forearm shield, she dropped into a judo ankle pick, forcing him to stumble.
He barely recovered before her elbow smashed into his ribs.
Adam shifted into defensive posture, arms tight, blocking and parrying.
She adapted.
Every time he angled a defense, she switched rhythm.
Low feint into high kick.
Grab into shoulder throw attempt.
She swept his leg clean once, flipping him hard onto his back. He rolled, barely dodging the downward stomp that cratered the ground where his head had been.
She was laughing now.
Breathless. Thriving.
He lunged forward, driving his forearm into her throat in a quick, precise strike aimed at the Adam's apple.
Her airway collapsed slightly.
She staggered back, clutching her neck, coughing.
Eight seconds.
He counted.
Her tissue swelled, then visibly corrected itself. Bruising fading as cartilage reformed.
She inhaled deeply.
"Cute."
He swore under his breath and shot two fingers toward her eyes.
Direct. Efficient.
They connected.
Her head jerked back.
Her irises clouded over.
Five seconds.
They cleared.
Regenerated.
She was already moving again.
He changed strategy. Hooked her arm during a strike and pivoted into a rotational torque that snapped her elbow joint backward with a sickening crack.
The bone broke clean.
She looked down at it.
Then back at him.
Fifteen seconds.
It snapped back into place with a wet pop.
Adam exhaled sharply.
Unless I'm trying to kill her, I can't win this.
Amber stepped forward slowly now, predatory.
One clean straight punch landed square in his chest.
The impact sent him flying through the clearing, body smashing through a rock outcrop before skidding across sand near the shoreline.
The rock shattered.
He coughed, sand sticking to his skin.
She leapt after him, descending like a missile.
He rolled at the last second. Her fist struck the ground instead, carving a crater.
They clashed again, faster now. Too fast for normal eyes to track. Blows cracking against trees that split in half when missed. Sand spraying into the air in bursts.
She caught his arm during a block, twisted, and used his own momentum to hyperextend it backward.
Snap.
Pain flared.
He stumbled.
His arm dangled wrong.
She stepped back instinctively when she saw it.
They both froze.
Breathing heavy.
Sweat dripping.
Adam stared at his left arm, bent at an angle that absolutely wasn't supposed to exist.
"Uh," he muttered.
Amber blinked.
"Heal," she said.
"I am."
They waited.
Nothing.
She frowned.
"That's… not right."
He flexed, trying to will it.
Pain shot up his shoulder.
"It's automatic," she said slowly. "It's supposed to be automatic."
He swallowed.
"I thought so too."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Are you eating enough?"
"Yeah," he lied.
She gave him a look.
"Adam."
He looked away.
She sighed sharply.
"If you don't eat, your body doesn't have fuel. No fuel means no regeneration. You might as well be human right now."
His stomach twisted again.
"I've been trying to… control it," he admitted quietly. "The wolf. If I don't feed it—"
"That's not how it works," she cut in. "It's part of you. You don't starve it into submission. You learn to control it."
She stepped closer, softer now.
"Control means exposure. Not avoidance."
Then she smirked faintly.
"No wonder you were struggling. You're six inches taller than me and I was still bullying you."
He huffed despite the pain.
"Alright, alright. I'll eat."
"That doesn't fix your arm," she pointed out.
He looked down at it again.
The pain was getting sharper, and it was starting to swell up now.
Amber thought for a second.
Then her expression shifted.
"Oh."
She flexed her left hand.
Claws extended smoothly from her fingertips.
Adam's eyes widened slightly.
She lifted her right wrist and, without hesitation, dragged a claw across it.
Blood welled immediately.
Rich. Dark.
Warm.
She stepped toward him.
"This is weird," she admitted. "But it's the fastest way."
He shook his head. "I'm not a vampire."
"Our systems aren't that different," she said. "You can either drink or figure out how you'll explain that arm to everyone."
He hesitated.
Then, reluctantly, leaned forward.
The first swallow burned.
The second didn't.
Heat surged through him like someone had injected fire straight into his veins. His senses flared violently. His heartbeat roared in his ears.
His arm jerked.
Bone slid back into alignment with a nauseating shift.
Muscle knitted.
Pain vanished.
He flexed his fingers slowly.
Whole.
Amber's wrist had already sealed itself.
Adam stared at his hand in awe.
Ever since the scratch… everything had been different. Strength. Speed. Senses.
But now?
Now it felt awake.
Fully.
The wind felt sharper. The lake louder. The earth beneath his feet thrummed with subtle vibrations.
And under all of that…
The wolf stirred.
Hungry.
Restless.
He swallowed it down.
"You good?" Amber asked.
"Yeah," he said, steadying himself.
She grinned.
"Call it a return favor."
She stepped back, brushing sand off her shorts.
"Night, Adam."
And she ran.
He watched her disappear into the trees.
For a long moment, he just stood there, feeling everything. The blood humming in his system. The air sliding across his skin. The distant creak of branches.
Were they cool now?
He thought so.
He let out a quiet breath.
It's a Win, i guess.
He turned toward the castle.
And then he heard it.
Singing.
Soft.
Close.
Not distant like earlier on the boat.
This was nearer.
Threading through the trees like silk dragged over water.
His head snapped north toward the pavilion.
Hakeem.
He was still out here.
Adam's stomach dropped.
The song rose slightly, haunting and beautiful, curling into the night like a promise.
And Hakeem Morris was somewhere north.