A Mate To Three Alpha Heirs novel Chapter 182

{Elira}

~**^**~

The walk to the clinic wasn’t long. The same nurse from yesterday looked up from her desk, surprise flickering across her face.

“Elira Shaw,” she said, standing. “Back so soon? Did something happen?”

“Not exactly,” I said quickly, rubbing the back of my neck.

The nurse’s gaze dropped to my bare arms, and her brows lifted. “Who removed your bandages?”

I opened my mouth, but the words tangled on my tongue. “I—uh—”

“One of the professors,” Cambria answered smoothly before I could stammer more.

The nurse’s sigh was audible. “Of course. They never wait for my clearance.”

Sthen, she gestured for me to take a seat and then examined my arms with efficient movements.

Her fingers pressed gently along my skin, tracing where bruises had once darkened. After a moment, she nodded.

“Well,” she said, a little begrudgingly, “whoever took them off wasn’t wrong. You have healed completely. No swelling, no internal strain. You are cleared to engage in duels.”

I blinked. “Really?”

She smiled faintly. “Yes, really. Just try not to get hit as much this time.”

My friends laughed while I managed a sheepish grin. “I will do my best.”

“Good,” the nurse said, stepping back. “Now go. The whole academy’s buzzing about today’s matchups.”

“Thanks,” I told her sincerely.

I left the clinic together with my friends, the sound of our footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Juniper bumped my shoulder lightly. “See? Now you are officially battle-ready.”

“Guess so,” I said, though the flutter in my stomach refused to settle.

As we approached the auditorium, I could already hear the rising chatter from inside. The voices, laughter, and the tension in the air like static.

Nari exhaled dramatically. “Okay, everyone, deep breaths. Let’s pray the Moon Goddess has mercy on our girl today.”

I tried to smile, but my pulse was already quickening again.

Because if Zenon’s words from earlier were anything to go by, I wasn’t sure mercy was on today’s agenda.

The auditorium was already filled to the brim by the time my friends and I slipped inside.

The hum of conversation rolled like a wave through the crowd. There were nervous whispers, soft laughter and the occasional sharp inhale of someone bracing for their name.

I caught sight of a few professors standing near the stage, and my heart gave a small jolt when I realized the one in the centre wasn’t Rennon this time.

The chatter began to fade as one of the professors, tall and silver-haired, stepped up to the podium with a presence that was sharp and commanding.

His gaze swept over us before he reached for the glass box beside him.

“All right, students,” his voice rang out, calm but firm, “the second round of combat elimination begins shortly. As before, twenty names will be called. If your name is announced, remain behind. The rest of you are dismissed after the pairings.”

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