Chapter 58: Lesson Learned Through Pain

Aina

"Travis..."

A soft, frantic voice cut through the heavy fog consuming her mind, swimming from somewhere far away.

"Travis... Travis! Travis Whitelock!"

Aina opened her eyes, her heart pounding frantically against her ribcage like a trapped bird. Every single inch of her body was screaming in agony. Her head felt as though it had been repeatedly struck with a heavy anvil, a dull, thumping ache pulsing behind her eyes.

The very first face to blur into focus above her was Nurse Clara, her kind, maternal eyes creased with deep worry as she adjusted a warm damp cloth on Aina’s forehead. "You’re here again, sweet child," Nurse Clara murmured softly, letting out a gentle, sympathetic sigh.

Oh my gosh... Aina cried out in her head, closing her eyes tightly for a second as a wave of nausea washed over her. What on earth happened to me?

She raised her left hand to press against her throbbing temple, her mind frantically grasping at scattered memories to link the dots together. The blinding sun... Coach Vane’s shrill whistle... the heavy iron sphere...

Malric.

The horrifying memory slammed into her with the force of a tidal wave. She remembered Malric looming over her like a vengeful titan, the sickening CRACK that echoed across the quiet turf, and the awful image of the blue sky as a swarm of panicked medical faces stared down at her trembling body.

"Nurse Clara...?" Aina croaked out, her throat dry and raspy.

"My sweet child, you’re finally awake," Nurse Clara said gently, placing a soothing hand on Aina’s shoulder. "You’ve been gone for a whole day."

Aina squinted through her titanium glasses, her body far too weak and battered to even attempt sitting up. "I’ve been gone for a whole day? I’ve been... sleeping for a whole day?!"

"Yes," Nurse Clara nodded solemnly. "You had a terrible accident back on the field." She clicked her tongue softly, shaking her head. "Headmaster Roiner would have had a heart attack if he knew what happened."

Oh... this whole nightmare wouldn’t have even happened if Roiner were actually here instead of away at the capital, Aina complained bitterly in her head, her heart aching with a sudden, desperate longing for the vampire’s presence. He would have never let those meathead princes crush me like a bug.

1

Wanting to rubbing the aching spot on her forehead, Aina tried to lift her right arm.

Nothing happened.

A sharp, searing pain shot straight up her forearm the moment she tried to twitch her fingers. Panic mounting in her chest, she slowly shifted her neck to look down at her right hand.

It was completely encased in a monstrous, thick white plaster cast, extending all the way from her knuckles straight up past her elbow.

Nurse Clara followed her gaze, her expression turning deeply sympathetic. "Oh... well, yes. About that. That heavy iron sphere fell directly onto your hand and crushed the entire thing. So... it’s going to be a long while before you can even use your right hand again. And also, your wolf heals exceptionally slow, so you’re looking at about six months with that cast."

Aina’s jaw dropped. "Six months?!"

"Yes, six months," Nurse Clara confirmed softly.

A wave of fury sparked in Aina’s chest, but almost immediately, a quiet, golden ray of pure joy bloomed right beside it. "So..." Aina asked slowly, trying to suppress the manic grin threatening to break across her face, "...will I still be able to play rugby with this cast?"

Nurse Clara looked at her as if she had lost her mind. "No! Absolutely not! I have already officially instructed Coach Vane to take you off the team roster immediately. You need to recuperate!"

THANK YOU, MOON GODDESS! Aina shrieked in absolute triumph inside her head, practically throwing a victory party behind her closed eyes. I would willingly break my other hand right now if it guaranteed I would never have to set foot on that horrific rugby field ever again!

"Travis!"

The door to the medical ward burst open, and Molly came rushing inside, tears streaming down her flush cheeks. She practically threw herself over the side of the bed, her hands hovering nervously over Aina. "Oh, Travis!"

Aina blinked up at her, a weak, wry smile touching her pale lips. I am having the most serious case of déjà vu right now... this is literally just like that time I got flattened by that terrifying girl back in Physical Combat. What was her name again? Pip or something?

"I can’t believe my brother did that to you!" Molly cried out, wiping a stray tear from her cheek as she wrung her hands. "Well..." Aina rasped out softly, her purple eyes dead serious. "I can. Your brothers are terrible people, Molly."

"I know, I know!" Molly sniffled, looking down in shame. "They were just... they were so blindingly angry at you because they didn’t find their fated mate in the woods! I’m sure Malric’s judgment was just a bit clouded during the game!"

Aina let out a pathetic, breathy laugh. "Molly, your brother’s judgment is always clouded. Please open your eyes."

Molly looked up, taking a deep breath before lifting both of her hands into the air with an earnest, determined expression. "You know what? I am going to take care of you until your hand gets better on behalf of my terrible brothers! I will be your hands, Travis! I’ll do everything for you!"

Aina couldn’t help the light laugh that bubbled up from her throat, even though the movement made her bruised ribs ache viciously. "Molly, no need, It’s just my right hand, you know, the hand I use for literally every single thing every day of my life. I’m sure I’ll manage to get by somehow. At least I’m officially off that insane team."

Molly tilted her head, her brown eyes widening in slight confusion. "I didn’t know you didn’t want to be on the team..."

Aina stared at her blankly. "Molly. Look at me. Do you honestly think I would ever want to be on a team where giant, super-strong shifters ram into each other at maximum speed for fun?"

"Well... would you?" Molly asked innocently. Oh my gosh... May the Goddess bless her sweet, oblivious soul, Aina wept internally, closing her eyes in utter disbelief.

"No, Molly! I wouldn’t!" Aina said aloud, sighing as she looked back over at Nurse Clara. "Of course I was going to end up with some horrifying injury! Honestly, I’m lucky I only ended up with..." She paused, shooting a quick, questioning look at the nurse.

Nurse Clara chimed in smoothly, "A few broken ribs and a broken hand."

"...a few broken ribs and a broken hand!" Aina finished, nodding to herself as if that were a glowing accomplishment.

Molly reached into her bag, sliding off the sash across her shoulder to pull out a small stack of papers. "Oh! These are from yesterday since you missed all your afternoon classes. Our assessment tests came back."

She gently laid a folded sheet onto Aina’s lap.

Aina peered down at the paper. Staring right back at her in bright, bold red ink was a massive, humiliating 0%.

Aina sighed, shaking her head. "Yeah... that zero was completely expected."

Molly leaned in, squinting at the paper in absolute awe. "I’ve honestly never seen anyone get a literal zero on a test before..."

"Well, congratulations, now you have!" Aina joked weakly, offering a pathetic little salute with her left hand. "Take a good picture, it’s a rare sight."

Molly smiled softly, nudging Aina’s shoulder playfully. "You know... I know math like the back of my hand. I could easily tutor you if you want!"

Aina’s eyes lit up with genuine relief. "Oh, please! Please do that! I desperately need someone to save my soul before I actually fail out of this academy, because I feel like I’m failing everything right now."

"It would be my absolute pleasure," Molly beamed brightly.

Malric

A heavy, suffocating gloom hung over the prince’s dorms like a thick thundercloud. Malric paced back and forth across the plush carpet, his golden wolf eyes burning with a dark, restless agitation. He hadn’t found a single second of peace in days. The three royal brothers were trapped in a state of perpetual rage and frustration.

Not only had their trackers failed to find a single trace of their fated omega mate anywhere in the surrounding territories, but Malric had gone and hit that insolent Whitelock boy way too hard. Now the boy was lying unconscious in the medical ward, and they had no idea when he would wake up to be interrogated.

"Why on earth did you hit him that hard, Malric?!" Vance snapped aggressively from his armchair, glaring daggers at his older brother. "We literally needed him conscious so we could ask him where she went!"

Malric whirled around, his broad chest heaving as he growled softly. "I had no choice, Vance! I was so consumed with rage that I couldn’t control my strength! How was I supposed to know the boy would go flying across the field like a feather?! Is he even an alpha or not?!"

Theo leaned against the fireplace mantel, tossing an apple from hand to hand, his eyes cold. "Oh, come on, Malric. You know as well as I do that the boy is barely an alpha to begin with. A strong breeze could knock him over." Before Malric could fire back another angry retort, the double doors clicked open, and Max stepped inside the room, bowing his head respectfully.

"My Princes," Max announced quickly. "The Whitelock boy... he’s awake."

All three brothers snapped their heads toward him, their eyes gleaming with instant, predatory focus. Vance immediately made a move to stand, a cruel smirk playing on his lips.

"Finally," Vance purred. "Let’s go beat the answers out of him."

"Sit down, Vance," Theo warned smoothly, stopping his brother with a raised hand. "As much as we all want to go hound him with questions right this second... Nurse Clara is in that ward. And she will absolutely not let us anywhere near him."

Vance gritted his teeth, letting out a frustrated groan as he slumped back into his chair.

As terrifying and powerful as the royal princes were to the rest of the academy, Nurse Clara was one of the very few people on campus who genuinely terrified them. She wouldn’t hesitate to drag them by their ears directly to the Headmaster or worse, snitch.

Malric narrowed his eyes, staring out the tall stained-glass window as the orange hues of sunset began to fade into a dark, shadowy twilight.

"We wait," Malric commanded, his deep voice carrying a cold, dangerous promise. "He has broken ribs and a shattered hand—he isn’t going anywhere anytime soon. We’ll wait until nighttime... and then we pay our little liar a visit."