Jace Strickland POV

  Thriexa leads me into a large gym, and the sheer energy of the space hits me immediately. Eova from all the nations were sparring together, their movements fluid yet occasionally uncertain. As I observed them, I noticed something odd—some moved gracefully, their forms precise and controlled, but others faltered, their steps hesitant or slightly awkward, like they were adjusting to bodies that weren’t entirely familiar to them. It dawned on me that this must be what Thriexa had meant. They weren’t just training in combat; they were training in their forms.

  To my left, a pair of Borzork warriors stood facing each other, their bodies tense with anticipation. Without warning, one lunged forward with a burst of speed I barely had time to register. His opponent dodged just as quickly, absorbing heat from the room as his muscles tensed, giving him a surge of strength. When he countered, his strike sent the first warrior skidding backward across the mat, his feet barely able to keep traction. The sheer force behind their movements was staggering, far beyond what a human could manage unassisted.

  I watched, impressed, as they continued their sparring, each motion calculated, their heat absorption fueling bursts of raw power. It was an entirely different kind of combat—one that relied on energy as much as skill. For the first time, I truly understood just how dangerous a Borzork could be in battle. They weren’t just strong. They were weapons, honed through control of something far beyond human limitations.

  As we moved deeper into the gym, my attention shifted to the different styles of combat unfolding around me. Unlike human sparring, which followed strict techniques and predictable patterns, the Eova fought with an unpredictable fluidity, adapting their movements mid-strike. Their fights were precise, but there was a distinct lack of rigidity—every movement seemed responsive, as if they were sensing their opponent’s next move before it even happened.

  A Bedzut woman, clad in soft pink, moved with precision as she sparred against a Topzell fighter. Her opponent barely dodged a blow before pivoting into a seamless counterattack, shifting stance with inhuman speed as they adjusted to their surroundings. The Bedzut woman responded effortlessly, her movements fluid, almost like she was anticipating the attack before it fully formed. Their sparring was like a flowing dance, neither of them committing to brute strength but instead relying on quick, instinctual adjustments.

  I watched as the Bedzut woman suddenly paused for a split second, her posture shifting. Then, she dodged a final strike with impeccable footwork, stepping back just as the Topzell halted, recognizing the match was over. The fighter nodded respectfully, turning toward Thriexa before dipping their head. “Aizih Thriexa,” they acknowledged before stepping away. The Bedzut woman stood relaxed, clearly invigorated by the fight, her breath even, her expression unreadable.

  It was incredible—a blend of instinct, ability, and adaptation unlike anything I’d ever seen.

  I followed Thriexa toward the woman dressed in pink, her presence instantly warm yet strong. “This is Tocci,” Thriexa introduced, her voice lighter as she spoke. “My best friend—and my security when I travel.”

  Tocci inclined her head toward me, studying me with sharp yet kind eyes. “So, this is the human you’ve spent so much time with. I was beginning to think you made him up.”

  I smirked.

  Thriexa chuckled before turning to Tocci. “I need to change into something more appropriate for training. Stay with Jace until I return.”

  With that, she disappeared toward another section of the gym, leaving me alone with Tocci. I glanced back at the Eova sparring around us before shifting my attention to her. “So, you’re her security? That means you must be able to handle yourself. What exactly are your abilities?”

  Tocci smiled, as if she had been expecting the question. “I am Bedzut. My abilities lie in emotional perception and manipulation. I can sense emotions, calm or agitate them, and in combat, that can be very useful.”

  I frowned slightly, intrigued but also wary. “So, you can control how people feel?”

  She tilted her head. “Not in the way you’re thinking. I don’t force anyone to feel something that isn’t already there. But emotions can be redirected, heightened, or softened. In battle, fear can be turned into focus. Hesitation into determination. But outside of combat, it allows me to understand people in ways others can’t.”

  I exhaled, taking that in. “That sounds… powerful.”

  Tocci smiled knowingly. “It is. But like all power, it must be used wisely.”

  I hesitated for a moment before curiosity got the better of me. “Could you read me? Right now?”

  Her lips curled in amusement, but she tilted her head slightly, studying me with new intent. “Are you sure you want that?”

  “Yeah,” I said, crossing my arms. “Go ahead.”

  For a moment, nothing happened, and then I felt it—an odd shift in the air, like something unseen brushing against me. It wasn’t intrusive, not like someone reaching into my thoughts, but rather as if Tocci was attuning herself to something I couldn’t perceive. Her gaze sharpened slightly.

  “You’re steady on the surface, but underneath… conflicted. You’re curious, but also hesitant, as if you don’t want to acknowledge what you’re feeling.” Her smile grew. “And it’s shifting.”

  I frowned. “Shifting how?”

  Before she could answer, my eyes were drawn across the gym. Thriexa had returned, her usual formal attire replaced with something far more suited for combat—tight, form-fitting clothing that gave her full range of motion, yet left little to the imagination. The fabric hugged every contour of her frame, showing off the lithe strength beneath her elegant composure.

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  Something in my chest tightened unexpectedly. I had seen Thriexa composed, regal, even amused—but this? This was different. This was confident in an entirely new way.

  Tocci chuckled beside me, clearly sensing the shift before I even realized it. “That,” she murmured, “is what I meant by shifting.”

  Heat crept up my neck, and I forced myself to look away, clearing my throat. “Right. Well… good to know.”

  Tocci’s smirk widened, but she leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell her.”

  I shot her a glare, but she only laughed, clearly enjoying my discomfort. I didn’t bother denying anything—she could sense emotions, after all. Instead, I just exhaled sharply and ran a hand through my hair, determined to shake off whatever I was feeling before Thriexa reached us.

  As I stood watching, Tocci turned to me, a playful glint in her eyes. “Would you be willing to spar with Thriexa?”

  I hesitated, shifting my stance. “I don’t know… I don’t exactly want to hurt anyone.”

  Tocci laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, don’t worry about that. If anything, she might be the one to hurt you.”

  Before I could respond, Thriexa stepped onto the sparring mat, her movements fluid yet deliberate. I watched as she and Tocci began to spar, their strikes quick and controlled, their footwork precise. The way they moved was mesmerizing—graceful, efficient—but I noticed something odd. Every now and then, Thriexa hesitated for just a fraction of a second, stumbling slightly before adjusting.

  She muttered something under her breath, too quiet for me to catch, then faltered again. Frustration flickered across her face before she corrected her stance and pressed forward. Then I heard it—soft, irritated.

  “Not having a tail anymore is annoying.”

  I blinked. Did she just say—?

  The realization struck me like a punch. Of course. She had taken on this form for Earth, but it wasn’t the body she was used to. On another planet, in another form, she must have had a tail for balance, or maybe for counterweight in combat. And now? Now she was adjusting, relearning how to fight in a body that didn’t have what she was instinctively used to.

  I found myself watching her differently after that, seeing beyond just the elegance of her movements. She wasn’t just training; she was adapting. And suddenly, I understood just how much the Eova had to adjust every time they found a new home.

  Tocci halted the sparring session and turned to me, a playful glint in her eye. “Would you like to spar with our Aizih?”

  I hesitated, shifting my weight slightly. “I don’t know… I’ve had a lot of combat training because of my work at the FBI. I wouldn’t want to hurt her.”

  Tocci smirked, crossing her arms. “You’re assuming you would be the one doing the hurting.”

  Thriexa, who had been stretching her arms, chuckled. “She’s right, you know.”

  I narrowed my eyes slightly, glancing between the two of them. “I’m just saying—”

  “And I’m just saying,” Tocci cut in, “that I’d like to see how you move. I could learn a lot from watching a trained human spar. It would be… educational.”

  Thriexa took a step closer, tilting her head slightly, her expression unreadable but undeniably amused. “Are you worried, Jace?”

  I let out a slow breath, rolling my shoulders. “Not worried. Just cautious.”

  Thriexa grinned. “Good. You should be.”

  I sighed, knowing I wasn’t going to get out of this. With a smirk of my own, I reached for the hem of my shirt, pulling it over my head before tossing it aside. “Alright then. Let’s see what an Aizih can do.”

  Tocci stepped back, looking far too entertained as I took her place on the mat. Thriexa shifted into position across from me, her stance light and balanced, her violet eyes gleaming with challenge.

  This was going to be interesting.

  Thriexa Aizih POV

  I felt a flicker of irritation when Jace hesitated, claiming he didn’t want to hurt me. It wasn’t arrogance—I knew he had training, that he had fought before—but the assumption that I was the one who needed to be protected? That stung.

  I was going to teach him a lesson.

  I watched as he pulled his shirt off and stepped onto the mat, his movements steady, confident. He was well-built—his body toned and powerful in a way that showed years of discipline. I knew human women would find him attractive, and the thought sent an unexpected warmth to my face. I quickly pushed it aside. I had no time for distractions.

  Instead, I focused on his stance, watching how he shifted his weight, how he carried himself. He was trained, yes, but he was also used to fighting within a predictable framework, with rules and expectations. I, however, had none.

  Normally, when I sparred, I refrained from using my abilities. It gave my opponent a fair chance, allowing me to learn without relying on my natural advantage. But this wasn’t about fairness—this was about teaching Jace something important.

  I was going to predict his every move before he made it.

  I settled into my stance, my gaze locking onto his. “Are you ready?”

  Jace rolled his shoulders, giving me that ever-present smirk that made it seem like he had everything under control. “Let’s see what an Aizih can do.”

  I smiled back, but mine was sharper, edged with something more. Oh, you will.

  We sparred for a few minutes, my movements precise, fluid, always a step ahead of him. I could see the flicker of surprise in Jace’s expression each time I blocked or dodged his attacks effortlessly. His training was strong—refined and disciplined—but predictable. He was used to fighting opponents who followed a pattern, who had tells he could read. I, however, had the advantage of reading his intentions before he even made a move.

  He adjusted quickly, trying to throw off his patterns, but I adapted just as fast. Every strike he attempted, every shift in stance, I countered with ease. His smirk faded slightly as his focus sharpened, his movements becoming more deliberate. I could tell he wasn’t used to being at a disadvantage like this.

  Then, I saw it—an opening, subtle but there. His weight shifted slightly to one side, his next move forming in his mind before his body could follow. I reacted instantly, sweeping his legs out from under him with a sharp, fluid motion.

  But in my own movement, I miscalculated.

  I had forgotten, once again, about my lack of a tail. The counterbalance I had relied on for so long wasn’t there, and in an instant, my own stability wavered. Before I could correct myself, I stumbled forward—falling directly on top of him.

  My hands landed against his bare chest, my body pressed against his as I caught myself inches from his face. A rush of heat flooded my cheeks, my breath catching as I realized just how close we were. Jace blinked up at me, momentarily stunned, his hands instinctively gripping my waist to steady me.

  I muttered under my breath, frustrated. “Not having a tail is really inconvenient.”

  Then it hit me—where I was, what I was doing.

  My gaze locked with his, and for a moment, neither of us moved.

  Then, Jace smiled up at me, his expression amused despite the situation. “I forgot you could read my intentions.”

  I smirked, tilting my head slightly. “I noticed. I wanted to teach you a lesson.”

  His grip on my waist tightened slightly before he let out a short breath, shaking his head. “Lesson learned.”

  Tocci’s laugh broke my focus on Jace, and I pulled myself up, straightening quickly.

  “The mess of emotions coming from you two is overwhelming,” she teased, crossing her arms. “I thought I was watching a sparring match, not a romantic drama.”

  Heat crept back into my face, and I shot her a sharp look. “Stay out of it, Tocci.”

  Jace exhaled and ran a hand through his hair, clearly trying to regain his composure. “Right. Well. That was unexpected.”

  Tocci smirked. “You did ask for a lesson.”

  Jace gave me a considering look before his smirk returned. “I want a rematch. This time, no reading my intentions. Let’s see what happens when we’re on equal ground.”

  I arched a brow, intrigued by the challenge. “Fine. But don’t expect me to go easy on you.”