A Mate To Three Alpha Heirs-Chapter 196: Losing Control

{Elira}

~**^**~

Once the noise calmed, Professor Kael started reading the names, his voice crisp and formal again.

Each one echoed through the wide space like a slow drumbeat.

Five names... ten... fifteen—

"Elira Shaw."

My breath hitched. I heard my friends gasp and cheer softly beside me.

Cambria grabbed my hand. "You’ve got this. Don’t hold back this time."

"Make it to the top ten, Elira," Juniper said with a grin.

I nodded, trying to keep my expression steady even as my heart refused to slow down.

"The final name—Adriel Kaen."

A tall boy near the aisle stood up, stretching his neck slightly. He looked older, third-year maybe, and the calm, unreadable expression on his face made my stomach tighten.

"Those whose names were not called," Professor Kael said, "please proceed to the training hall."

My friends gave me quick hugs and words of encouragement before leaving.

"Remember—ten minutes, not a second more," Tamryn said with mock severity.

I laughed softly, forcing myself to breathe. "I will try to keep it under that."

"Don’t let him breathe," Nari whispered with a wink.

At last, they waved as they joined the stream of students heading out of the hall, their voices mixing with the roar of the crowd.

Then the remaining twenty of us were led to the stage. The lights overhead buzzed faintly, hot on my skin.

Professor Kael’s assistant handed him a tablet, and he began pairing us off.

"Pair One—Devon Renns and Mira Sol."

"Pair Two—Tavin Kerr and Olan Pierce."

My palms were sweating by the time he reached me.

"Pair Five—Elira Shaw and Adriel Kaen."

Of course.

I stepped forward, meeting Adriel’s cool, assessing gaze. For a second, neither of us spoke. Then he gave a small, confident smirk that sent a spike of adrenaline through my veins.

The pairings continued until all twenty names were matched. Then, Professor Kael lifted his voice once more.

"All combatants, follow me to the large training hall. Remember—the duel ends when your opponent cannot rise, or when you hold them down for ten full minutes. No disallowed techniques will be tolerated."

The words ’no disallowed techniques’ made my stomach twist again. No acu-points. No shortcuts.

As we began the walk toward the training hall, the thunder of footsteps and voices followed us like a living wave.

This was it—the last round before Founders Day. And I was not going to let it be my last step.

---

The large training hall was already alive when we stepped inside in our training wear.

The bleachers were filled—students packed shoulder to shoulder, the air buzzing with energy. Voices layered over each other, a thousand whispers blending into one hum of excitement.

The air felt heavier than the last time.

My palms were damp, and my every step echoed louder than it should have.

We lined up in two rows near the edge of the mats. The professors stood in front, each holding a small silver stopwatch. One of them—a tall woman in black—raised her hand for silence.

"You’ve made it to the final round," she said. "This is where ESA’s true fighters are forged. Remember, this duel isn’t just about strength—it’s about control, instinct, and resolve. You fight until the timer runs out, or until one of you can’t stand."

I swallowed hard. The rules hadn’t changed, but somehow they sounded sharper now.

When the match numbers were called, the first two pairs stepped forward.

I tried to focus, to steady my breathing, but my heart thudded too fast. The roar of the crowd grew with every match—cheers, gasps, the thud of bodies hitting the mat.

By the time it reached my turn, the air in my lungs felt thin.

"Pair Five—Elira Shaw and Adriel Kaen."

The moment my name echoed, a wave of noise erupted from the crowd—my name, chanted in pieces, like ripples in the air.

I forced a smile, though my hands trembled slightly as I walked to the centre.

Adriel was already there, standing tall, his shoulders broad, his stance calm and confident. He gave me a small nod—polite, almost indifferent.

We faced each other on the mat. The hall quieted until all I could hear was the faint buzz of lights overhead.

Professor Kael’s voice rang out. "Begin!"

For a heartbeat, I didn’t move, and neither did he.

Adriel stood across from me, tall and unnervingly calm, his silver eyes fixed and predatory.

Unlike every other opponent that I faced, he didn’t lunge, didn’t even flinch. He just watched—patient, calculating, the way a hunter studies its prey.

My pulse thudded in my throat. Every instinct screamed for me to move first, but something in his stillness warned me not to.

"He is waiting for you to slip," Selene murmured in my mind, her voice low and wary.

I shifted my stance, lowering my centre of gravity, every sense sharpening. The crowd’s murmurs faded to nothing but static in my ears.

When Adriel finally moved, it was so fast I almost didn’t see it. His leg swept low, aiming for my knees.

I barely managed to leap back, but his follow-up punch grazed my jaw, the impact snapping through my bones like thunder.

He was strong—stronger than any I had faced. But I had faced worse pain before.

The first round was a blur of movement—strike, block, retreat, repeat. Every time I tried to find an opening, he shifted tactics, almost reading my intentions before I acted.

Ten minutes bled away in sweat, bruises, and stifled breath. And still, neither of us had fallen.

"Rematch!" Professor Kael’s voice rang out.

I dropped to one knee, panting, sweat rolling down my neck. Across from me, Adriel stood tall, barely breathing hard. His smirk was infuriating.

When the second round began, I saw it in his eyes—the change. The calculation twisted into cruelty.

He wasn’t aiming to win anymore. He wanted to break me.

Just then, he darted forward, grabbed the collar of my training shirt, and yanked.

The sound of tearing fabric filled the hall, loud and humiliating. The front of my shirt gaped open at the shoulder.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

"Pathetic," Adriel sneered, low enough that only I could hear. "They talk about you like you’re special now—but underneath, you’re just the same scared little Omega pretending to be strong."

I already knew this tactic, but though I was a little bit mad, I guarded my emotions. But then, he wasn’t done with me, wasn’t done riling me up.

"I heard you are an orphan," he said in his quiet, condescending tone. "I could bet a bill that you would end up being a pathetic loser and shame your parents, who would be welcome to leave you alone early enough in the next life once again."

Instantly, something inside me snapped.

Heat tore through my chest like lightning, fierce and wild. My vision blurred, edges glowing gold. I could feel Selene rising, her fury surging into mine.

"That bastard! Let me show him what happens to those who insult us," she growled.

"No—" I gritted out, but my body trembled, fire thrumming under my skin. The air crackled faintly around me, faint tendrils of heat spiralling from my fingertips.

I heard the startled murmurs from the stands—someone shouting, "Is... she glowing right—!"

"Elira."

Just then, Zenon’s cold, deep, familiar voice sliced through everything. It wasn’t spoken aloud. It thundered straight through my mind, sharp and grounding.

"Do not lose control. Control it—don’t let it control you."

I sucked in a breath, my eyes snapping wide.

The fire stuttered. The gold haze dimmed, and Selene’s growl retreated, leaving only my racing pulse and the echo of Zenon’s tone in my head.

I raised my eyes and met Adriel’s. "You should have kept your mouth shut."

He snorted and lunged, fast and heavy. But this time, I was faster. His fist grazed air as I dropped low, spun, and slammed my elbow into his gut.

He doubled over, only for me to follow up with a sweeping kick that sent him stumbling back. The crowd gasped.

Adriel recovered with a snarl and swung again, his claws flashing out this time—a dirty move, illegal in the contest. He wanted to scare me.

I caught his wrist mid-swipe, twisted hard, and drove my palm into his sternum. He grunted, staggering.

"Getting tired?" I taunted, breath ragged but steady.

He bared his teeth and came again, this time feinting left, but I had already seen through his rhythm. I ducked under his arm, slammed my shoulder into his side, and shoved him toward the mat. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

He hit the floor with a growl, rolled, and got back up, blood at the corner of his mouth. "You are fast," he admitted, breath hissing. "But not strong enough."

He charged again, and I let him.

I waited until the last heartbeat, then pivoted sharply and used his momentum against him, hooking his arm under mine and flipping him clean over my shoulder.

He crashed flat on his back, the mat echoing with the impact.

Cheers broke out. I heard my friends somewhere screaming my name.

But I didn’t let myself celebrate yet.