The food helped.
It just didn't help enough.
Adam had eaten slowly, deliberately, like he was negotiating with his own body. A little rice. Some grilled chicken. Half a bread roll. He'd told himself that was discipline. That he didn't need more. That keeping the wolf quiet meant keeping the fuel low.
Now, walking out of the castle again with the taste of salt and roasted meat still ghosting his tongue, he felt… steady.
But there was still that hollow tug under his ribs.
Content. Not full.
His stomach gave a faint, irritated twist, like it didn't appreciate the compromise.
The castle loomed behind him as he stepped into the courtyard. Even in the dark, it dominated the island like it had grown out of the stone itself. He'd memorized the map earlier, studied it until the layout felt etched into his head. South-west corner of the island. Perfect defensive position. The southern gate led straight to the port. Beyond that, the mainland barely visible across the water.
The western walls curved along steep cliffs that dropped sharply into the lake. No easy way up from that side unless you had wings or a death wish.
East was different.
East opened up.
Woods first. Then sand. Then those eroded cliffs everyone kept whispering about. Caves carved by centuries of water, some of them flooding and draining depending on the time of day. Supposedly if you swam at the right hour, when sunlight hit the water at just the right angle, the cave interiors glowed like someone had poured liquid neon into the sea.
Adam wanted to see that for himself.
North, though… north was quieter on the map.
Tree cover thicker. Old decommissioned horse stables. Servant quarters abandoned decades ago. And at the very tip of the northern peninsula, another structure. Smaller than the castle but still impressive. A pavilion facing the lake. Lakeside rooms. Underground chambers.
A retreat.
Where a king used to go when he wanted silence.
Where Madam Bellhart had casually suggested would be "perfect for full moon gazing."
Adam's jaw tightened slightly at the memory.
Yeah. He hadn't forgotten that.
He stepped through the northern gate first, pausing just outside the walls.
It was quiet in a way that felt intentional.
From inside the castle, muffled sound spilled outward, distant laughter from the throne room where the horror movie was playing. A bass thump from someone's speaker. The occasional shout.
Outside the walls, though, it felt like the island was holding its breath.
Most people were inside. The rest were in their rooms doing whatever second-years did when they thought adults weren't paying attention. Making out. Sneaking drinks. Breaking school rules in ways they thought were subtle.
Adam figured he might be the only one actually wandering.
He headed east first.
The woods thinned gradually, trees giving way to open air. The scent of water grew stronger. Salt and mineral and algae. The ground softened under his sneakers as dirt turned to sand.
When he stepped onto the beach, he paused.
The shoreline curved gently, pale sand stretching beneath dark cliffs that rose jagged and uneven against the sky. The water moved in slow, rhythmic breaths, washing in and out with a muted hush. Wind carried a cool edge, tugging lightly at his shirt.
Clouds blanketed the sky, thick enough to swallow most of the starlight.
To a normal person, it would've been properly dark.
Adam barely noticed.
Everything was clear. Edges sharp. Shadows layered instead of blacked out. The texture of the sand. The wet gleam on stone. The ripples in the water reflecting faint ambient light from the castle.
He stopped mid-step.
Right.
He blinked a few times, pretending to adjust to the dark even though he didn't need to.
Mental note. If I came here with someone, I'll have to fake squinting. Maybe pull out my phone flashlight at some point. Pretend.
He walked closer to the cliffs, spotting the cave almost immediately.
It yawned open like something ancient and patient, carved deep into the rock face. The entrance curved inward, water lapping softly at its mouth. Even in low light, the interior shimmered faintly where the tide shifted.
Okay, that's actually fire.
He crouched slightly, studying the way the water moved along the stone. Imagining sunlight pouring in tomorrow. Imagining Aiva's reaction.
Yeah. He'd show her this.
He stood there for a while, letting the wind brush against his face. Letting the layered smells of lake water, wet stone, and distant pine settle into his lungs.
Peaceful.
Too peaceful.
His stomach tightened again.
He pressed a hand lightly against it. "Relax," he muttered under his breath.
It did not relax.
After a few more minutes, he turned back toward the woods.
North next.
The forest thickened the farther he went. Trees grew taller, branches tangling overhead. The ground became uneven, roots twisting like veins beneath the soil.
That was when he heard it.
Thud.
Not loud. But solid.
He paused.
Another one.
Thud.
Heavy.
Not the hollow crack of a branch snapping. Not the shuffle of footsteps. This was heavy Impact, like fist meeting wood.
He tilted his head slightly, listening harder.
Thud.
Who the hell is punching trees?
He moved forward slowly, adjusting his steps to fall lighter. He didn't consciously switch into wolf mode, but his body knew how to quiet itself when needed. Breath controlled. Weight distributed evenly. Feet rolling instead of stomping.
The sound got clearer.
Each hit landed with force. Bark splitting. Wood straining.
He eased around a thicker trunk and finally saw the source.
Amber?
She stood in a small clearing, shoulders glistening faintly with sweat, her pink pixie cut catching what little light filtered through the clouds. She wore a black sports bra cropped tight across her chest and matching shorts that hugged her hips and thighs. Her skin, pale against the dark woods, looked almost luminous.
And she was demolishing a tree.
Her fist drove forward again, knuckles slamming into bark.
The trunk splintered inward where she struck. Wood fibers cracked audibly. Chips scattered across the ground.
Adam's eyes widened.
She hit it again.
The indentation deepened.
Splinters flew.
This wasn't normal-human strength. Not even close. And yet again, this wasn't the limit of her strengths either. This was restraint.
He stepped out from behind the tree he'd been using as cover.
"You know trees didn't do anything to you, right?"
Amber didn't turn.
"Your stealth needs work," she said flatly.
Adam froze.
"…You knew I was there?"
She drove her fist forward once more. The trunk groaned.
"Since you stepped on that branch three trees back."
Adam glanced down at the forest floor instinctively.
He hadn't even heard a branch.
She finally stopped punching.
For a second she just stood there, breathing steadily. Then she shifted her stance and slammed her fist in again with a sharp exhale.
The trunk cracked.
Actually cracked.
A jagged line split up the wood. With one final punch, the tree gave way, tilting and collapsing sideways with a heavy crash that shook the ground.
Adam stared at the fallen trunk.
"…Okay," he said slowly. "That was aggressive."
Amber exhaled through her nose and finally turned around.
Up close, she looked different than her usual chaotic energy in school. There was no grin. No wild spark in her eyes. Just tightness. Restlessness under the surface.
"What?" she asked.
"What are you doing?"
"Cardio."
"You're punching trees."
"Yeah."
"Why?"
She rolled her shoulders once like she was shaking tension loose. "Because there's no gym."
Adam blinked. "So your solution is deforestation?"
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
He raised both hands. "I'm just saying. There's treadmills."
"Where?" she shot back. "In the throne room?"
He didn't have an answer for that.
She turned away again, pacing once across the clearing like she didn't know what to do with her energy.
Adam watched her carefully.
"You good?" he asked, softer now.
"I'm fine."
"You don't look fine."
She huffed.
He stepped closer but kept a respectful distance.
"Amber."
She clenched her jaw.
"I don't wanna talk about it."
"Cool," he said immediately. "We can just stand here in silence while you assault forestry."
Her lips twitched despite herself.
He noticed.
That was the crack.
"You're stressed," he said.
She didn't deny it.
Instead she walked up to another tree and pressed her palm flat against the bark like she was grounding herself.
"I get agitated," she muttered.
"About?"
"Everything."
He waited.
She exhaled slowly.
"Unlike my sisters," she said, eyes fixed on the trunk, "I either do too little or way too much. There's no in-between. I mess things up because I hesitate. Or I mess them up because I overdo it."
Her fingers curled slightly against the bark.
"I hate that."
Adam stayed quiet.
"So I work out," she continued. "Sports. Training. Anything that burns it out. Keeps my head straight."
She gestured vaguely around them.
"And now we're stuck on a tiny island with no equipment. No space. Nothing."
Her voice tightened.
"It feels small here. Like the walls are closing in."
She drew back her fist and drove it forward one more time.
The tree didn't stand a chance.
The trunk split violently. Wood tore apart under the impact. The entire thing toppled sideways with a crash, leaves shaking as it hit the ground. And that was one punch.
Silence settled over the clearing.
Amber stood there, breathing hard.
Then she turned fully to face him.
For the first time since he'd walked up, she looked… not wild.
Just tired.
Adam swallowed slightly.
He let everything she'd said settle in his chest.
Then he started thinking about what to say.
Amber turned fully toward him, chest rising and falling, pink hair plastered slightly to her forehead from sweat. The tree she'd just demolished lay split behind her like evidence at a crime scene.
Adam lifted both hands in surrender.
"Okay, okay. I get it. You needed to let some steam out."
She rolled her eyes.
"I'm serious," he added quickly. "But maybe… not in a way that's gonna have people asking tomorrow why the forest looks like it got jumped."
That landed wrong.
He saw it immediately.
Her jaw tightened. Her shoulders stiffened like she'd just been called out in class.
"So now I'm messing up again," she muttered.
"No, that's not—"
"First I overdo it. Now I can't even punch a tree without it being a problem."
She stepped back, hands flexing at her sides, agitation rising again like a tide.
Adam's brain scrambled.
Don't say the wrong thing. Don't say the wrong thing.
He remembered Aiva's voice from that quiet conversation a while back. The way she'd broken it down so simply it almost felt obvious.
People don't need fixing. They need to be heard.
Listen first. Then meet them where they are.
Amber didn't need judgment.
She needed release.
Adam exhaled slowly.
"You're not messing up," he said, softer now. "You're pent up."
She didn't respond, but she didn't snap either.
"You need to burn it out," he continued. "Not hold it in."
Her eyes flicked up to his.
"And how you plan on helping with that?"
He stepped forward, planting his feet deliberately.
"Friendly spar."
Her brow lifted.
"You can go all out," he added. "Let everything out. On me."
Amber stared at him like she was measuring his weight, his stance, his confidence.
"You sure you can handle that?" she asked, skeptical.
He smirked faintly. "I'm trained in Krav Maga. I'll be fine."
She scoffed.
"My sisters and I are black belts in judo, jujutsu, and taekwondo."
She squared her shoulders, sliding one foot back into stance. Balanced. Grounded.
"You still think you can handle me?"
Adam swallowed, though he kept his expression steady. He glanced at the trees around them, the open space, the sandy ground nearby. Good footing. Enough room.
He raised his hands, elbows tucked.
"Just so we're clear," he said, easing into his stance, "a lot of Krav Maga techniques are technically illegal. Permanent damage type stuff."
Amber's lips curved slightly.
"I heal."
Her pink hair caught a gust of wind as she settled lower into position.
"Anything goes."
And then she moved.
No warning.
No hesitation