Canaan Club - 47. Chapter 47

News truly did become old quite fast in Ironward.

The next afternoon, the main building cafeteria was bustling with activity, but, according to Andre’s ears, hearsay of the burning of the first-year dormitories was apparently a thing of the past. More interesting rumors have made their way to the forefront.

Now, Rafe, Andre, Joe, Daeran, and Frodd were seated around each other, attempting to shape the coming days of the fight up ahead.

“No.”

The redheaded barbarian pouted at the blond superhuman. “Come on, lad!”

“I dunno,” Joe chuckled as he chewed on his meal – something called moonberry waffles. “Sounds pretty cool. Strength in numbers and all that, right?”

Rafe rolled his eyes as he responded to Frodd’s whining. “Dude, I barely know anyone not sitting at this table right now. I don’t think making a big speech about ‘tearing down the status quo’ just a month into starting our first year here is gonna pan out.”

“Plus, those guys showed that they were willing to stoop to…” Andre swallowed, subconsciously leaning toward his steel-eyed best friend, “murder just to get us out of the way. I don’t want anybody else uninvolved getting hurt because of this.”

Frodd looked like he wanted to spit out more excuses but relented with a shake of his head and a knowing smirk. “One day, we’ll get that army I’ve-”

“Heads up.”

Rafe warned at the same time Andre’s ears twitched. At that moment, two familiar upperclassmen sauntered into the café. Cain strode in, seemingly ticked. Nobody had to wonder long when Zoel, appearing just as annoyed, tailed right after him.

“I don’t get it. I don’t fucking get it, man!”

“Nothin’ for you t’ get,” Cain muttered, his retort was curt, his voice carrying a weight of secrecy. He didn’t even head to one of the vendors to order something. If anything, it looked like Cain was trying to get his packmate off his trail in a way that wasn’t too obvious.

“I don’t get why you won’t make the call! We’ve all been waiting on the tips of our fucking toes for you to take us all the way! Instead, we’re sitting ducks until you get over your girl issues!” Zoel hissed, his frustration simmering beneath the surface as he slammed a large fist on one of the tables, producing a well-sized spiderweb of cracks across the surface.

It silenced the crowd, but his alpha was not one to take such insubordination.

Cain spun around and glowered, eyes glowing with a violent threat.

“Watch it.”

The hushed whispers of the audience carried the tension between them as they stood in the middle of the cafeteria. Cain's usually stoic demeanor was replaced by a storm of emotion, evident in the tightness of his jaw and the fire in his eyes. Zoel, equally resolute, crossed his arms defiantly.

As if the atmosphere wasn’t already suffocating with those two squaring off, Cain’s aura leaking even more menace made Andre tremble, a whine involuntarily spilling out.

Not a second later, Rafe’s arm was around the omé, anchoring him and giving him a small boost in resistance. “You hear them, Andre? What are they saying?”

The duo were at a distance where only Andre’s impeccable hearing could pick up the sound despite the growing quiet.

The wolf blew out a shaky breath. “They’re arguing, that’s for sure. But it’s more like… Zoel talking Cain’s ear off more than anything.”

“Yeah,” Joe nodded. “It looks like the guy’s a couple of seconds away from blowing up.”

Rafe scoffed. “Hopefully, that bastard gets caught up in the blast.”

And it looked like the blond was going to get his wish, too. Cain’s patience was eroding the longer Zoel persisted in yapping angrily in his ear.

“…two years already!” Zoel pestered on. “Get over it!”

At that, Cain finally whirled around to “kindly” address his packmate’s concerns.

“A couple o’ years?” he spat with a raised eyebrow. “You think that’s all it takes to get over a dead mate, eh?”

Andre gasped, his jaw nearly hitting the floor in shock.

Oh.

“What?” Rafe leaned closer, glancing between the two upperclassmen and the omé.

“Hold on.”

The wolf’s heart broke for the alpha. Losing one’s mate – one’s other half – changed that person for the worse. Most times, the effects were catastrophic. Was Cain teetering on that edge?

“Don’t tell me what I should and shouldn’t get over,” said alpha sneered, looking Zoel up and down in disgust. “A piece o’ shit like yourself wouldn’t understand bonds like that anyway.”

“The fuck! I’ve been nothing but your loyal fucking lapdog since the goddamn beginning! Your beta bitch, for fuck’s sake! There isn’t a deeper bond than that, man. And the whole soulmate crap is bullshit.”

Cain's eyes widened momentarily, a mixture of shock and anger flashing across his face, not that Zoel noticed. Before he could retort, the fool pressed on mercilessly.

“You know, others have had their doubts about you ever since you became our alpha. Too soft, not enough teeth and claws for the job, but me? I had faith. I thought you knew what it took to take our pack to the top, and after everything a couple of years ago, we thought that would harden your resolve and show us that you can be the alpha you need to be.”

No pain. No tears. No weakness.

That was the way of being a true alpha in most tribes.

“But you got my ass looking pretty fucking stupid, right?” Zoel laughed bitterly, a nasty sneer the only tell that whatever he was about to say would cross the line. “All because of some dead, cancer-riddled piece of monkey ass you couldn’t-”

He never had a chance to finish.

Without warning, Cain lunged at Zoel, his fists connecting with a fury fueled by what looked like years of bottled-up grief and frustration across the latter’s jaw. The cafeteria immediately erupted into chaos as shocked spectators scrambled to get first-row seats to the…

Well, it wasn’t a fight. More like a massacre. A gamma against an alpha?

The winner was no question.

“Kill his ass!” Rafe yelled amongst the cheers and whoops of the bloodthirsty crowd.

Andre searched for the need to admonish his friend for applauding the violent scene but was surprised to find his pity well pretty dried up at this point when it concerned the bully wolf.

With snarls and snapping in the air, Cain's fists moved like a force of nature, striking Zoel relentlessly. Desperation etched across Zoel's face as he tried to parry the blows, but Cain's strength proved overwhelming. His aura was just too overwhelming, riling the audience up more than usual.

The climax came with a bone-rattling kick. The impact sent shockwaves through Zoel's body, and with a sickening crunch, he crashed through a nearby window. Shards of glass glittered in the air as Zoel tumbled out into the quad beyond. Zoel lay above parted grass and dust, out cold.

Cain stared down at his fallen packmate, ignoring the standing ovation – jeez, Zoel didn’t have many fans, did he? – before remorselessly walking out, his face blank.

With him, the oppressive aura left, too. And Andre felt like he could breathe a little easier. Honestly, he was shocked he was still standing. He was sure omegas like him couldn’t handle that level of hostile pressure.

“That escalated quickly,” Daeran commented quietly.

Frodd grinned as he gazed at the broken window, swinging his club around. “Looks like he softened ‘im up for us, lads. What do ya say we go finish th’ job?”

“You know what they were talking about?” Rafe looked at Andre, who nodded.

“Yeah, and it explains a whole lot.”

It was probably the catalyst for this whole thing. Cain and Zoel, once united by a shared vision, found themselves at odds over the club's official status.

-

The anticipation in the air was palpable as the team gathered in the dimly lit training room on a crisp Saturday afternoon. Coach Hemming stood in the center of a row of coaches with a clipboard in hand as he cleared his throat, signaling the beginning of an important announcement. The room buzzed with speculation as the athletes exchanged glances.

“Of course, aside from airing on live television, we’ve also recorded your fights for acute reviewing. Your strengths, your embarrassing weaknesses, and your potential improvements that can be implemented before the next meet. Coach Sigil will pass out the recording. For beginners, it’s mandatory, so all your humiliating moments will, unfortunately, be on display, but show any progress because of this, it’ll be your weekly ritual.”

A murmur of excitement and curiosity filled the room. The prospect of reliving their moments in the arena brought a mix of anticipation and nervous energy.

Beside Hemming, the enigmatic Coach Sigil fixed their gaze on Daeran, who sat in the front row with his friends. “Let’s get to work.”

A pointed stare and a click of his tongue were enough for Joe’s roommate, the coach's cryptic gesture prompting a nod from Daeran, an unspoken understanding passing between them. Rafe looked between them. Whatever lessons Coach Sigil had in mind, they seemed to involve Daeran directly.

As the team settled in front of three large, holographic screens, the room dimmed further, and the recordings started to play. The familiar sights and sounds of the Pratwith’s backyard arena filled the room as the team watched themselves in action. The intense moments of skillful maneuvers and well-executed techniques drew nods of approval from the athletes.

“Five bucks it shows Frodd sprinting to the bathroom,” Joe chuckled to Rafe on his right, who snorted.

“Ten bucks it shows him yacking into a toilet.”

Soon enough, the entire room suddenly erupted in laughter as they witnessed Frodd's desperate dash to the bathroom, a comical expression of panic on his face. Coach Hemming wasn’t kidding when he said they’d show everything as it displayed the barbarian’s head halfway down a stall, gagging and heaving.

“Oh, come on,” the redhead slid down in his seat, red in the face.

That mischievous twinkle in Hemming’s jade eyes glimmered. “Every humiliating moment!”

The team continued to watch the recording, analyzing each moment with a newfound perspective. As the session progressed, the athletes engaged in lively discussions, pointing out strategies that worked and areas that needed improvement. Many particularly marveled over Rafe’s battle with Dylan Hallace, the Apollo superhuman, especially the ending.

Truth be told, it’s been a while since he’s pushed himself to his absolute limit. The Coat had high demands, but with Beau, they always took it easy during spars, which was why Toby ordered training bots, but even those didn’t last even when Rafe wasn’t really trying.

By the end of the session, as the team marched over to the War Field, the initial nervous energy had transformed into a sense of unity and determination. The noon sun bathed the training field in a warm glow as the team assembled for another session. The field echoed with the sounds of their efforts – the clashing of weapons, the thud of kicks, and the occasional shout of encouragement or, in Coach Hemming’s case, disgust from the coaches.

Sometime later, dispersing after rigorous drill after drill, Frodd noticed Andre sitting cross-legged under the shade of a hovering bleacher, eyes closed and breathing measured.

“Um… what’s Andre doin’?”

Rafe looked in Andre's direction, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Meditating. Trying to get that magic of his under control.”

“Really?” Joe snickered as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Our boy’s getting all zen. He finally had enough of your nagging, bro?”

The Hermes rolled his eyes but chuckled alongside him. “Shut up. I didn’t tell him to do anything. I just wanted him to at least know how to defend himself. Though, I’d prefer he didn’t listen to me to an actual kidnapping kickstarting that idea.”

“Hey, little Wolfram,” Hecuba called out with a sly grin. “Come with me and spar. Let me see what you’re made of.”

Rafe shot her a sidelong glance, his expression wary. He had no fondness for Hecuba, a sentiment that had grown stronger after Lindsay had told her story.

“I think you saw enough last week, didn’t you?” Rafe replied, his voice carrying all the distrust in the world.

The esper- no, the fae chuckled, undeterred by his reluctance. “Oh, I’ve seen, and I like it. Come on, I have something I want to talk to you about. You get to punch me in my face while we talk about it.”

The blond’s eyes narrowed, weighing the offer against his reservations. The idea of landing a few blows on Hecuba was tempting, a way to settle the score for the trouble she had caused. After a moment of contemplation, he sighed.

“Threatening me with a good time, are you?” he quipped, grinning tightly in resignation. “Fine. Get ready to eat dirt, then. Your little teleportation trick won’t save you this time.”

“Glad to hear it. Let’s find a corner.”

A moment later, at a secluded spot in the field, it became a dance of evasion and offense. Hecuba materialized in different corners, a ghostly wisp trailing behind her. Rafe, his eyes focused and fists clenched, followed her movements, determined to land a hit.

Amidst the kinetic energy, Hecuba's voice cut through the tension. "So, Indigo told you everything?" she inquired, her words hanging in the air like a challenge as she finally appeared in front of him.

Rafe, darting forward to close the distance, replied, “Not sure, but she did offer up more than expected. Though, one thing’s not really sitting well with me.”

“Oh? And that would be?”

The blond superhuman threw a punch that missed its mark, his opponent vanishing like vapor.

“You setting her up to be cornered by that shitty wolf. You’re the type to play games, but I can tell you’re a part of the damn few that like to purposely hide shit. Keeps you blameless when your victim doesn’t bother to ask more.”

The fae’s voice reverberated all around him as he searched the area warily. “You’re certainly a meticulous one, aren’t you?”

“Trust me,” he retorted. “It's a survival trait where I come from.”

He unleashed a laser attack, but Hecuba, like a shadow, evaded effortlessly, reappearing behind him. “Well, your concerns are warranted. You are dealing with an Unseelie fae. Or, at least the equivalent of one. But believe me, your blue-headed friend was supposed to get herself out of that situation. You showing up was nothing short of a miracle.”

Growling as his frustration escalated, he leaped towards Hecuba, launching a relentless barrage of attacks. The coach continued to sidestep and evade with an almost poetic grace.

“You realize what would have happened if we hadn’t shown up?” Rafe exclaimed, his anger palpable. “I’ve recently learned the lows that piece of furry garbage would stoop to get his fucking jollies! She could’ve ended up seriously hurt like her friend! Yelena Perez! Does that ring a fucking bell?”

The fae teleported to a safe distance, evading a sweep at her neck. “She really did tell you everything. She’s usually quiet as a mouse about these things.”

The Hermes was irritated, but curiosity soon accompanied it. So, he listened as she went on.

“Kid, soon you’ll realize that this school, this place, is nothing more than a breeding ground for gangs and organized crime. It might not seem like it, but Mr. Gylarcan, bless his golden heart, is losing control. There’s not much he or anyone else can do about it, otherwise, he would have burned it to the ground and rebuilt something proper.”

Nobody’s doing anything about it, so who cares?

“What the hell kind of excuse is that? What’s it got to do with anything?” his rage soared.

He fired another round of twin beams, these ones blue. However, through his anger, he anticipated Hecuba's teleportation. This time, he sensed the subtle vibrations in the air and leaped over to where the stunned fae was re-materializing.

His fist sliced through the air as she moved her head at the last possible second, a brush of the knuckles that left a cut on Hecuba's right cheek. Surprised admiration flickered in Hecuba's eyes at the unexpected development.

“You’re getting faster. Looks like somebody will be kicking gamma ass in no time.”

“Don’t change the f-”

Just as the confrontation reached its climax, Andre's sudden arrival disrupted the rhythm. He landed in a less-than-graceful manner between Rafe and Hecuba, sprawling on his back with a groan.

Rafe's eyes widened in surprise. "A-Andre!?" he exclaimed, his superhuman reflexes propelling him toward his fallen friend.

The omé grimaced. “Ouch.”

The blond's concern deepened. “Shit, man, you alright? What the fuck happened!? Who did this!”

“No, no! It was me. I, uh, was just practicing with air,” chuckling softly, Andre reassured him. “Trying to see if I could fly like you.”

“Air magic?”

A sheepish nod. “Yeah, but as you can see, that didn’t work out too well. Sorry.”

“Dude…” Rafe couldn't help but smile, a mixture of relief and amusement washing over him. He extended a hand to help Andre up, and the two shared a genuine laugh.

Hecuba, a forgotten, silent observer of the spectacle, watched with an amused smirk.

Joe and Frodd engaged in a fierce sparring session, the clash of their weapons echoing in the training arena. The barbarian swung his club with precision, aiming directly at the noirette superhuman's manifested arm braces. The impact reverberated through the air, and Joe winced as the blow landed.

“Damn, that thing’s the real deal, bro!” he grinned despite himself. “Not even a good arm brace can keep my arms from stinging!”

Frodd, with a confident grin, circled Joe, reveling in the success of his attack. “To be expected from a weapon forged by warrior gods, mate!”

Near the edge of the field, Coach Sigil had a practiced gaze fixed on Daeran as the young first-year grappled with the darkness that danced at his fingertips.

"Focus on the shadows. Seems to be your bread and butter," Sigil advised, their tone a blend of encouragement and command.

Daeran hesitated, the weight of uncertainty evident in his eyes. "Yeah, but-"

"I know," they interrupted, a sagacious nod accompanying their words. "Let's see if you build up tolerance. Maybe the voice won't be as loud."

“As long as I’m not on the back foot. Which means I have to get stronger.”

“SlICe ItS hOrN oFf!”

Daeran clenched his jaw. “Shut up.”

“What’s it saying?” the unicorn shifter arched an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Uh, i-it’s telling to, uh…” he mimicked a slicing motion across the top of his head before nodding it at Sigil’s own.

Despite the threat, the shifter couldn't help but chuckle, a light-hearted amusement filling the air. "Maybe you should bring it out. I'd like to see it try."

Daeran shot Coach Sigil a pleading look. "Please don't encourage it, Coach."

-

Bones looked around the table, eyeing each member of their group with an unreadable expression. “So, now that you all are a smidgen stronger than yesterday, let’s start planning out how we’re gonna send the big bad wolf running with his tail tucked between his legs.”

Practice had just concluded, leaving the five, despite their exhaustion, charged with a newfound energy. As they made their way to Dalhia’s Diner, Bones was already seated at a table, eager to discuss their strategy for dealing with Zoel.

“I say we send your lil’ animal golems first,” Frodd, always enthusiastic, chimed in with his suggestion. “Then, once the enemy’s all tuckered out tiffin’ with metal, we swoop in an’ finish em’ off!”

That, of course, got him a round of odd looks, but this time, they weren’t totally disapproving.

Bones gaped a bit. “That’s…”

“Actually not a bad idea,” Joe finished, patting the barbarian on the back. “Good thinking, bro.”

The young engineer sighed and shook his head. That’s great and all, but if only I had so much time. And speaking of time, a certain blue-haired someone is not on it. Where’s the princess?”

Rafe’s lips tightened. “Yeah, that’s what I’m wondering. She should have beaten us here.”

“Don’t tell me she backed out on us at the last second.”

“That can’t be it,” Andre almost immediately went to bat for her, taking out his WardNav and clicking through it. “She said she’d be there. Maybe she’s waiting for Rudy and the others. They’re going to be joining us soon, too. I’ll text her again to make sure.”

“Of course, she probably needs an escort, too,” Bones muttered sarcastically.

“Sounds like somebody wants to apply for the job,” Joe teased him.

“Fuck off! Don’t be ridiculous! Besides, I hate the color blue.”

The faint pink in the fellow violet-eyed noirette said otherwise.

The Ares superhuman grinned. “Sure.”

As they ate, Rafe spilled the beans on the argument between Cain and Zoel. A new development that Bones instantly saw the advantageous side of.

“Perfect. Which means that the rat and his gang of rabid dogs are all on their own.”

“We faced them before,” the blond spoke, recalling their previous encounters. “We can split them apart, severing their biggest strength, and use their arrogance against them.”

Andre grew increasingly confused as he attempted to contact Lindsay.

Rafe questioned, "Nothing?"

A sinking feeling settled in Rafe's gut as he considered certain possibilities, but Bones seemed to have his mind made up.

"Look at that. She bailed."

The blond refused to believe it, lightly slamming his hand on the wooden table. "No way. Not after the talk we had last time. She revealed shit to us she wouldn’t have if the situation hadn’t called for it."

One would argue that she could’ve been lying the whole time, but he knew for a fact that that wasn’t the case. She wouldn’t have been able to get past Andre’s nose if she did.

Said omega went for another attempt, typing in Lindsay’s device number for the umpteenth time. “Maybe I should- oh! She’s answering! Hey, it’s-”

However, the relief was short-lived when Zoel's voice unexpectedly echoed through the connection.

"Well, if it isn’t the baby wolf. Didn’t know your girlie had you on her client list," Zoel taunted, causing shock to freeze everyone in the room.

Rafe's anger flared. "What. The. Fuck!?"

"Is that the piss-haired supermonkey, I hear? Man, I didn’t know a pas de trois was in the works. Or maybe the whole party’s there?"

Dread paired up with rage. "Cut the shit! How’re we hearing from you, flea-fucker!? What’d you do to Lindsay!?"

Realization struck as Daeran spoke grimly, "He has them."

The room fell into a cold silence as the weight of the situation sank in.

"Damn bastards! Should have known you could never play fair. How about you let our buddies go, and then we can throw down at the War Field, no holds barred?"

"Tempting! Very tempting, my man!" Zoel entertained the idea, albeit noncommittedly.

"That wasn’t an agreement I hear."

"So, you’ve stooped to kidnapping, huh?” Joe called out. “I thought you big strong wolves fought your problems face to face."

Zoel dismissively responded, "Oh, well, if we’re talking about problems, then you guys aren’t anymore. So, don’t worry about it."

…

"Wait, what?" Frodd voiced their perplexion.

Rafe demanded answers, "The hell does that mean!?"

They could practically hear the eye-roll on the other side of the call.

Zoel's mocking tone was evident. "Fuckin’ freshies. It means that we have everything we need now. The satchel, the greycells, your girl. Yep. Consider our beef squashed. You won’t be a thorn in your asses anymore, squirts."

Before, these words would have been a confounded relief to hear. Abrupt, but at least it was over, right?

Unfortunately, they were too far into it. And there was no way they’d leave the collateral in the dust.

"No fucking way!” Rafe declared, seething, as he smashed a hole into the wood of the table. “You just signed your death warrant, asshole! We’re coming for you and your pack of rabid mutts!"

The gamma only laughed uproariously. “Man, and here was me thinking we could come to an easy consensus on this. I won’t bother you little fucks again! Isn’t that what you wanted? No. I have a new target to take my… anger out on. And I heard she’s quite the firecracker, so she’ll take a while to break. That is if you guys hadn’t wrecked her hard enough already.”

He hung up.

Seconds passed as reality began to sink in.

"Fuck!" Rafe spun around and cursed up a storm.

Joe and Daeran sat solemnly. Frodd clutched at his club with white knuckles. Bones directed a narrowed gaze at his food.

Andre trembled in his seat, having yet to move his sight from his WardNav. "We have to hurry! Lindsay and the others… Who knows what’s happening to them right now?"

Bones surveyed the group with a discerning gaze. The weight of the situation hung heavy over them. An ominous shadow cast over the usually lively group.

"They must’ve struck during your practice. They know damn well you’ll be after them, but you’ll be too exhausted and energy-depleted to put up a proper fight," he uttered in monotone, his words resonating with the somber truth of their predicament.

Of course, Rafe thought bitterly. Should’ve known the bitch wouldn’t play fair.

"That ‘first wave of robots’ plan you were cooking up is really sounding good right about now,” Joe said to Frodd.

Rafe suddenly reached into his bag. "Luckily for us…" He revealed the caladrius soap, one given to him by the boy sitting across from him.

"Well, then." Bones acknowledged the significance with a nod.

"We barely know each other, but that’s three times now that you’ve helped us out."

Bones waved dismissively but not rudely. "It’s no biggie. I’ve… been through a lot of shit before coming here, so it’s the least I could do."

“Haven’t we all? Seriously, thanks,” Joe added his gratitude.

Frodd hummed, pointing his club at the enigmatic first-year. “You’re a real team player when ya don’t wanna be.”

Andre and Daeran, silent but appreciative, nodded in agreement.

Something flashed across the boy’s face, a rare moment of vulnerability flickering across his stern countenance.

“I… I guess,” Bones finally shrugged, seemingly uncomfortable with the sentimental exchange.

Rafe shifted the focus back to the impending battle. "Alright. Rub this where you ache the most and it’ll ease it right up. It looks like our fight’s been expedited."

"Aye, captain!” Frodd saluted as they stood up. “We got a team name?"

“Priorities, dude-”

"Because I’ve got a few in th’ bag we could try out," Frodd persisted, ignoring Bones’ exasperation.

Count on the messy redhead barbarian to lighten the mood despite the gravity of their impending confrontation.

Joe simply snickered, ruffling Frodd’s hair. "We leave it to you, bro."

Bones just shook his head and stayed quiet.