'Something you should know, little girl,’ Scott stretched and unfolded his long arms. ‘I’m a Beta.’ He spoke with menace, and stared at her.

‘Thanks for the information,’ Emma replied. ‘I’ll take that into account.’

He watched her for a long moment, waiting for another reaction, then frowned as he realised that she was serious.

‘Fine then, your funeral.’ He took a stance, his left foot forward, his right hand guard his face. ‘Whoever’s pushed off the mat loses.’ He said, and then blurred.

Emma was not surprised, and pain was an old companion to her. His foot lashed out towards her face, but was blocked by her left arm. Despite anticipating the attack, the larger boys size and force slammed into her smaller body, lifting her off the mat. She balanced and flipped in mid-air, landing just at the edge of the blue square.

She stood up, ignoring the throbbing pain in her left shoulder. She moved towards the centre of the ring, where Scott stood with his hands on his hips, laughing.

‘Good girl, at least you know how to take a punch,’ he grinned at her. ‘Some women can’t, you know? They mouth off and off and then don’t want to take the consequences.’

‘Your perspective is….’ Emma tilted her head, as she did whenever she was trying to understand someone. ‘Limited. Misogynistic. Definitely abusive.’ She looked at him, and smiled. ‘I get it now. You’re a bully!’ Emma’s face was radiant. She looked genuinely pleased with herself.

In contrast, Scott’s face seemed to switch from anger to confusion.

‘It’s a bit strange though,’ Emma continued, resuming her stance and lifting her fists to guard position. ‘Any female Alpha would wipe the floor with most males of any Rank.’ She looked into his eyes. ‘You’ve never met an Alpha, have you?’

‘My dad’s an Alpha,’ Scott retorted, proudly.

‘Aaah, and you’re only a Beta.’ She began to move through a few forms, watching his eyes track her hands. ‘Is that why you are a bully? You did not live up to your father’s Rank? You know it’s not as simple as breeding two Alpha’s and getting another Alpha. The bloodline is random in the gifts we get.’

‘What do you know,’ Scott sneered, moving towards her without even assuming an attacking stance. ‘Dirty little immigrant. What would you know about the genetics of the bloodline?’

‘Scott is quite fair in his hatred of pretty much everybody who doesn't look like him,’ a pleasant voice rang from the now open window of the office.

‘She asked to spar sir. Can’t refuse a challenge sir, you know the rules,’ Scott immediately put his hands in the air and spoke defensively to the man with grey hair who walked towards them calmly.

‘I was taught to win,’ Emma said, drawing Scott's attention back to her. ‘In the Nursery.’

Scott’s hands dropped and his face paled. He looked at her strangely.

‘Liar,’ he spat. ‘Nursery doesn’t exist, and you ain’t Japanese anyway,’ he said, but moved into a defensive position.

‘Only half,’ Emma agreed, and then Activated.

She watched Scott’s eyes open wide as he realised that her defence of his earlier kick wasn't just a lucky block. He dropped into the Active state as well, and grunted as he caught a flying roundhouse kick to his face with an open palm. With a savage grin on his face, he closed his hand around her shin. Emma weighed next to nothing compared to him. He used this advantage and lifted her by the leg. From Jenny’s horrified scream, he could tell that she knew his next move.

He was going to slam this little uppity foreigner head-first into the ground. With any luck, she’d be paralysed. Best of all, the teacher was a witness to her attacking him. Even if his dad wasn't an Alpha, there’s no way the school could touch him.

He lifted her as high as he could, and paused, savouring the moment, before putting all of his strength to swing down.

In his Active state, time seemed to slow down. He watched her descend. He knew she was Active as well, which meant that she was fully aware of what was going to happen to her when she hit the ground.

She was at eye-level with him when he heard something crack.

A moment later, he realised it was his thumb. He blinked, and she was no long flailing at the end of his arm, but had her small hands around two more of his fingers. He blinked again, and saw his fingers twisted in different directions. He stared in disbelief for a brief moment before the pain hit him.

He blinked again, through tears as his arm continued to swing down, but without the strength he had started with.

At this point Scott had expected her head to be cracking against the mat. Instead, her feet were on the floor and her knees were bent. With mounting horror, Scott realised that she hadn’t finished.

Both her hands encircled his wrist at the slender point where the joint stuck out. She twisted, and Scott felt his wrist bend. He moved forward to try and take the pressure off, and then realised that had been her intention.

In the slow-motion of the Active state, he watched himself stumble forward. He blinked and suddenly her foot was on his ankle. There was another crack.

He fell forward now, faster now, pain radiating from his wrists and his ankle. Another blink, and she was lying on her back with her feet expertly placed on either side of his hips.

He looked into her eyes. Dark, black eyes that stared unblinking at him. As his weight bore down, she flexed and flipped up with her legs. He felt his centre of gravity shift as he became airborne, and flew over her.

Her implacable features were replaced by the looming blue of the crash mat. Scott whimpered in horror as her tiny hands remained clamped around his screaming wrist. She twisted, and Scott blacked out from the pain of a shattered wrist before he landed, face first, on the mat.

Emma stood up and dusted herself down. She glanced at her watch.

‘Thirty-nine seconds.’ She grimaced, imagining the stern look on Elder Weep’s face. She could almost hear his voice berating her.

‘Too slow girl. It three seconds to kill you. Two and a half seconds to decide, and and half a second to press the trigger.’

She could almost feel him tapping her shoulder impatiently. ‘That’s how fast you have to be.’