Feral Bonds: Claimed By Rogue Alpha Brothers-Chapter 535: The Three Rounds

Evaline:

The laughter didn’t die immediately.

It rolled through the training hall in waves, echoing off stone walls, bouncing from student to student until even those who hadn’t seen the flip clearly were laughing simply because everyone else was.

Nadine scrambled to sit up, her face burning red, eyes darting around as if searching for a way to undo the last ten seconds of her life.

There wasn’t one.

Oscar didn’t even look at her again.

His attention shifted fully to me.

"Good," he said calmly, as if I hadn’t just turned the social hierarchy of the second years upside down. "Now that we have established why assumptions are dangerous-"

A few snickers followed.

"-we’ll proceed with the actual demonstration."

Nadine opened her mouth, clearly ready to protest, but Oscar lifted one hand.

"You are dismissed," he said flatly.

The words hit her harder than the floor had.

She stood stiffly, jaw clenched, eyes burning holes into my back as she stepped down from the stage. The hatred rolling off her was almost tangible.

I didn’t look at her.

I kept my eyes on Oscar.

He turned slightly, rolling his shoulders as if loosening up.

Then... very deliberately... he reached for the hem of his jacket and shrugged it off.

The reaction was immediate.

Gasps. Whispers. A few very unsubtle swoons.

He placed the jacket aside, revealing a fitted black tank underneath that clung to every line of muscle beneath it.

Oh.

Stars.

I swallowed.

Oscar Thorne had always been built like a warrior, but seeing him like this - relaxed, confident, utterly unbothered by the attention - was something else entirely.

Ria’s sharp inhale echoed from somewhere behind me.

"I’m going to pass out," she muttered.

Oscar glanced over the class, his expression neutral, though I caught the faintest glint of amusement in his eyes.

"Focus," he said mildly.

Then he turned to me.

"You’ll defend," he continued. "I’ll attack."

My heart skipped.

Three rounds.

Against Oscar.

I nodded once.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice so only I could hear.

"Relax," he murmured. "I won’t break you."

I snorted quietly. "That’s reassuring."

His lips twitched.

We moved into position.

Round one.

Oscar didn’t rush me.

He circled slowly, movements fluid, controlled. Every step was deliberate, testing my awareness, my balance.

I remembered River’s training and lectures. Oscar’s own words from past sparring sessions.

Watch the shoulders. The hips. Power comes from the core.

He lunged.

Fast.

I barely had time to block before his forearm collided with mine, the impact sending a jolt up my arm. He followed immediately, switching angles, forcing me back.

I dodged left. He anticipated it.

I ducked under his arm, twisting away just as his hand brushed my waist... light, fleeting, almost guiding rather than grabbing.

It was subtle... but intentional.

My pulse spiked.

I recovered quickly, planting my feet, deflecting his next strike with my elbow, using momentum rather than strength.

He pressed harder.

Within seconds, he had me.

His arm hooked around mine, twisting just enough to unbalance me before he stepped in and pinned me gently... but decisively... against his chest.

Round one: his.

He leaned in slightly, his voice still low.

"Good defense," he said. "But you hesitated."

He released me immediately and stepped back.

I exhaled, steadying myself.

The class was silent now.

Not laughing.

Watching.

Round two.

This time, I didn’t wait.

The moment Oscar moved, I mirrored him.

He attacked high... I dropped low.

He feinted right... I pivoted left.

I didn’t try to overpower him - I redirected.

We moved faster now, a blur of motion and controlled force. His strikes were precise, relentless, but he wasn’t holding back entirely either.

I caught his wrist mid-swing and twisted, stepping into his space, using his own speed against him.

For a split second, his balance faltered.

When I pushed, he stumbled back a step.

And the hall erupted.

Oscar laughed softly... actually laughed... as he recovered.

"Well done," he said.

Then he came at me again.

Harder.

I blocked, spun, ducked, my muscles burning, breath sharp in my lungs.

I could feel the difference between us - his strength, his experience - but I refused to give ground easily.

When he finally caught me again, it wasn’t with brute force.

It was with timing.

He swept my legs.

I hit the mat, rolling instinctively to soften the fall.

Round two: his.

He offered me a hand.

I took it.

His grip was warm. Steady.

And just for a heartbeat longer than necessary, his thumb brushed my knuckles.

No one noticed.

Round three.

My arms ached. Sweat clung to my skin.

Oscar tilted his head, studying me with something like approval.

"One more," he said. "Show them."

I inhaled deeply.

This time, when he attacked, I didn’t retreat.

I stepped in.

I anticipated his move... his shoulder shifting, his weight transferring... and I moved before he fully committed.

I ducked, spun, and used his momentum to throw him off-line, slipping past his guard.

My palm pressed against his chest.

Not hard.

Just enough.

The whistle blew.

Silence.

Then...

Oscar stepped back, his eyes bright.

"Round three," he announced. "Evaline."

The hall exploded.

Cheers. Applause. Whistles.

I stood there, stunned, chest heaving, disbelief crashing into pride.

Oscar raised his hand, signaling for quiet.

When it came, he looked out over the class.

"Strength matters," he said. "Speed matters. But awareness, control, and discipline matter more."

His gaze flicked to me.

"A fight isn’t about overpowering your opponent. It’s about understanding them."

Then he turned fully toward me.

"You lost two rounds," he said evenly. "But you earned every second of that third."

Respect.

I felt it settle over me... not just from him, but from the room.

Even Nadine, standing stiffly near the wall, couldn’t hide the way her expression had shifted from hatred to something darker.

Fear.

Oscar clapped his hands once.

"Pair up," he ordered. "Three rounds. Switch roles after."

The class erupted into movement, students scrambling to find partners, buzzing with energy.

As I stepped down from the stage, Mallory practically tackled me.

"That," she hissed, her eyes shining, "was illegal."

Noah grinned while Kyros nodded approvingly.

And somewhere behind us, Oscar’s voice carried calmly through the hall... already instructing the next pair.

The lesson had begun.

And this time... everyone was paying attention.