The academy's main arena was unusually crowded that afternoon. Students filled the bleachers, murmuring with anticipation. Rumors had spread that the instructors had designed a special rivalry challenge for the top-ranking alphas and omegas.
Daniel adjusted his gloves, heart hammering in his chest. His gaze flicked to Leo, who was already stretching near the arena entrance. Casual, calm, confident—just as infuriating as always.
Mika nudged him from the side. "Relax. Or as much as you can."
Daniel shot him a glare. "Relax? You have no idea."
Ryo leaned against the rail, arms crossed. "Sure I do. You're panicked, flustered, and internally screaming. That's obvious to everyone here, including him."
Daniel groaned. "He's not here to make me panic."
Mika snorted. "Oh, he is."
The instructor's whistle blew sharply, cutting through the murmurs.
"Alpha Challenge begins!" the voice rang.
Students in pairs lined up. Daniel's stomach dropped when he saw the pairing board. Of course. Fate—or cruel design—had paired him with Leo again.
The crowd erupted with whispers, and Daniel felt every eye on him as he stepped forward. He clenched his jaw and adjusted his stance.
The first task was a strategic combat drill, testing reflexes, coordination, and adaptability. Daniel focused, blocking out everything else. Every time he caught Leo's gaze, however, a small spark of tension laced his stomach.
The match began.
Leo moved first, graceful and precise. He attacked with strength, not recklessness. Daniel dodged and countered, every move calculated. But Leo's presence was like a weight, subtle and pressing, pushing him to perform perfectly.
Halfway through, another alpha attempted to intervene, testing both of them. Daniel reacted instinctively, guarding Leo with a split-second motion. It wasn't necessary—Leo could have handled it—but something in Daniel refused to let anyone endanger him.
Leo noticed immediately. His eyes flicked toward Daniel, sharp, almost teasing, but something softer hid beneath it.
"You're not playing fair," Leo whispered during a brief pause, just enough for Daniel to hear.
"I have to," Daniel muttered, his voice low. "You're already better than me."
Leo smirked faintly. "Funny. I don't need you to beat me. I just… like seeing how you handle yourself."
Daniel's heart skipped. He pushed forward, fighting harder, but the comment lingered in his mind. It wasn't teasing in the usual way. It was… personal.
The next round involved speed and obstacle navigation. Daniel led at first, moving swiftly, calculating each jump and turn. Leo followed, fluid and synchronized, almost eerily so.
When Daniel tripped slightly over a small barrier, Leo's hand shot out, barely brushing his elbow. The contact was brief, but Daniel felt it all the way to his chest.
"Careful," Leo murmured, eyes glinting with amusement.
Daniel's jaw tightened. "I'm fine."
Leo didn't push, but he didn't withdraw either. That subtle presence was enough. Daniel hated—and secretly loved—it.
During the final task, the combat-and-strategy round, Daniel was paired against Leo, with Mika and Ryo observing from the sidelines. The crowd cheered, sensing the tension building, though no one knew the full story.
Daniel tried to maintain focus, but every glance Leo gave him, every shift in his stance, drew Daniel out of himself. He was supposed to anticipate, calculate, perform. Instead, he was aware of everything—the warmth of Leo nearby, the subtle scent shifts, the teasing flicker in his eyes.
They moved together like a storm—precise, controlled, unpredictable. The instructors watched, murmuring among themselves about the "synergy" between the two students. Daniel's chest hammered, not from exertion, but from the awareness that he and Leo were both holding back something more than skill.
At one point, Leo feinted toward him in a playful, almost taunting way. Daniel reacted instinctively, blocking and countering, his body betraying a mix of tension and adrenaline. Their movements were fluid, intimate, dangerous, and yet professional.
By the end of the match, Daniel was panting, sweat dripping down his face. The crowd erupted in cheers. Leo stood close, calm, composed, but his presence was a weight Daniel couldn't shrug off.
Afterward, as they left the arena, Mika nudged Daniel. "You were… flustered. Admit it."
Daniel wiped sweat from his brow. "I wasn't."
"You totally were," Ryo added, smirking. "Didn't see that coming, huh?"
Daniel clenched his fists, suppressing a sigh. "You two are impossible."
Leo, walking beside him, didn't say anything—just let Daniel simmer in the aftermath. But Daniel could feel the subtle protective energy lingering: a shoulder brushing his as they navigated the hall, a hand briefly near his when picking up gear, a glance that held something unreadable but unmistakable.
Daniel wanted to deny it.
But deep down, he knew one thing.
Leo wasn't just teasing him anymore.
He was watching. Protecting.
And Daniel… hated how much he liked it.