Sloane Fitzgerald knew exactly how this was going to play out.
Lukas would try his best. He’d put up a decent effort for someone with baseline human stats. Then she’d break him. Not permanently. Just enough to make him realize how stupid this whole thing was.
He stood across from her on the training mat, rolling his shoulders back. The motion looked stiff. Amateur.
"We’re sparring," Sloane said. "Real sparring. Not the light stuff from this morning."
Lukas’s expression shifted. His jaw tightened. "Okay."
"I’m going all out."
"I got it."
"No, I don’t think you do." She bounced on the balls of her feet. "This isn’t tag anymore. You’re going to get hit. Hard."
"I know."
God, he was so stubborn. Nine years living together and she’d never seen him this insistent about anything. The old Lukas would’ve backed down by now. Would’ve made an excuse and disappeared to his room.
This version kept standing there with that calm expression like he actually thought he had a chance.
It pissed her off.
She moved.
Her fist caught him in the ribs before he could raise his guard. The impact sent him stumbling sideways. He recovered faster than expected, pivoting to face her again.
Sloane didn’t give him time to reset. She closed the distance and swept his legs. He went down hard, back hitting the mat with a thud that echoed through the gym.
"Get up."
Lukas pushed himself to his feet. Breathing steady. No complaints.
Fine. She’d hit him harder.
The next punch targeted his shoulder. He tried to dodge but wasn’t fast enough. The force spun him halfway around. She followed with a strike to his lower back that dropped him to one knee.
"Stay down," Sloane said.
He stood up anyway.
Her heart did something weird in her chest. A quick double beat that felt uncomfortable and wrong and she shoved it away because this wasn’t about feelings. This was about making him quit before he got himself killed trying to attend Halloran.
Because if Lukas died in some stupid entrance exam incident, people would talk. They’d blame her for not stopping him. They’d say she let her housemate walk into a situation he couldn’t handle. That kind of reputation damage would follow her through her entire career.
And beyond that, if Lukas died, she’d have to live with knowing she could’ve prevented it.
Which was unacceptable.
"You’re too slow," Sloane said. She circled him. "Your guard drops every time you move. You telegraph every punch three seconds before you throw it."
"Thanks for the notes." Lukas raised his fists again. Blood dripped from his split lip.
When did she split his lip?
Doesn’t matter. Focus.
Sloane attacked again. This time Lukas managed to block the first strike. Pride flashed across his face for half a second before her second punch slipped through and caught him in the stomach. Air rushed out of his lungs. He doubled over, gasping.
She kicked his legs out from under him.
He hit the mat face first.
"Stay. Down."
Lukas braced his hands against the mat. Pushed up to his knees. Then his feet.
That weird feeling in her chest happened again. Faster this time. Like her heart was trying to punch its way out of her ribs.
This idiot. This absolute moron. He couldn’t win. The gap between them wasn’t something effort could close. She had eleven years of training, a Legendary Aspect, and genetics that gave her every advantage.
He had nothing.
And he kept getting up.
"What’s wrong with you?" The words came out louder than intended. "You can’t beat me. You can’t beat anyone at Halloran. You’re going to die."
"Probably." Lukas wiped blood from his mouth. "Still trying."
Sloane’s hands heated without permission. Small sparks popped along her knuckles. She forced them down.
"Why? What’s the point of trying when you know you’ll fail?"
"Because failing after trying is better than never trying at all."
"That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard."
"Yeah, well." He smiled. Blood on his teeth. "I’m full of dumb ideas today."
She hit him again. Harder. The punch landed clean on his jaw. His head snapped sideways. He staggered three steps before his legs gave out.
Down. Finally.
Sloane stood over him, breathing hard despite barely exerting herself. "Stay down this time. Please."
Lukas rolled onto his back. Stared at the ceiling. His chest rose and fell in uneven rhythm.
Good. He was done. She’d proven her point. He’d realize how outmatched he was and give up on this suicide mission.
His hand moved. Braced against the floor.

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