A Mate To Three Alpha Heirs
Chapter 60: Power Channelling Class

Chapter 60: Power Channelling Class

{Elira}

~**^**~

By the time lunch was over, my stomach felt as heavy as stone — not because of the piece of dark chocolate I swallowed, but because of what lay ahead.

’The Power Channelling class.’

I walked to the large training hall, guided by the map on my smartwatch, my steps slow, heart sinking with every corridor I passed.

I had stopped for another bathroom break, hence the reason Cambria and the others left ahead, on my wish.

And I was glad they didn’t ask any questions.

By the time I reached the open double doors, I could already hear voices echoing inside — low chatter of students in matching uniforms, some laughing lightly, others quiet in their corners.

Inside, the hall smelled faintly of polished wood and old herbs. Rows of floor mats were spread out in neat lines.

At the far end, standing tall and confident, was the professor — a woman in her early forties, silver threads streaking through her dark hair, her posture exuding calm authority.

When she lifted her gaze, her sharp eyes swept over us like a cold breeze.

"All right," she began, her voice smooth but commanding. "Welcome to Power Channelling. Today, we’ll see what lies within you — or what you’ve been hiding from yourself."

I swallowed hard, clutching my notebook against my chest. Around me, students shifted, some rolling their shoulders as though already prepared to show off.

The professor continued, explaining:

"Each of you has supernatural potential. Some of you know your gifts, while others don’t. Today, we’ll try to sense the flow of energy inside your channels, the paths your gift uses."

"Close your eyes when it’s your turn, breathe deeply, and feel for that warmth in your chest or belly. Then, let it rise — let it manifest, no matter how small."

She demonstrated herself: closing her eyes, a faint glow dancing over her palm, dissolving like morning mist.

One by one, students went forward.

Some let out flickers of fire, a spark of frost, or a swirl of air so subtle it barely moved the hem of their uniform jacket.

The professor offered gentle corrections: "Relax your shoulders." "Don’t force it." "Feel, don’t command."

When it was the turn of a boy in the middle row — dark hair sticking to his temple from sweat — I noticed how nervous he looked, almost like me.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trembling. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the professor stepped closer, placed her palm lightly between his shoulder blades, and whispered something only he could hear.

Slowly, a tiny flame danced in his open palm. Weak, yet real.

The class clapped; relief flooded his face, his shoulders slumping as he let out a shaky laugh.

Watching him, my heart surged with hope. Maybe... maybe I could do this too.

When it got to my turn, my legs felt numb as I stepped forward.

I heard the usual whispers behind me. "Isn’t that the Omega?"

But I shut them out and closed my eyes.

I searched inwardly, but I felt nothing.

Refusing to give up, I reached further, like fumbling in a pitch-black room.

"Relax," the professor instructed gently. "Feel, don’t chase it."

I breathed in deeply, feeling my chest rise, then fall.

Tried to sense something — anything. Warmth. A spark. Even a tremble in my fingertips.

Still nothing.

A cold emptiness stared back at me. Seconds passed. Then a minute. I opened my eyes.

The professor’s face stayed neutral, but that, in itself, felt heavy.

She quietly said, "Thank you. Take your seat."

As I walked back, my cheeks burned. My pulse hammered so loudly I thought everyone could hear.

The small hope I’d dared to nurture shrivelled and crumbled away.

I lowered myself onto my mat, folding my trembling hands in my lap, trying not to let the sting in my eyes grow into tears.

Around me, the class continued. More sparks, small winds, soft glows.

But for me, there was nothing—only the gnawing hollow in my chest and the echo of what could not be awakened.

The moment the professor stepped out of the hall, the whispers started — sharp, cutting, and loud enough for me to hear.

"Did you see her face? Like she really thought something would happen."

"An Omega without a gift? What a joke."

"Maybe the school only let her in for charity."

Their laughter scraped against my skin like thorns.

I couldn’t bear it.

Without looking back, I grabbed my books, my breath shaking. I pushed past the rows of mats, ignoring the fresh sting behind my eyelids.

I heard Cambria call my name, soft and worried. "Elira! Wait—"

But I couldn’t. I rushed out through the double doors, my vision blurring from unshed tears.

The hallway outside seemed twice as long, my steps echoing in my ears. I barely registered the students moving around me. All I could think about was getting away — anywhere, anywhere at all.

I pushed open the door of the nearest female restroom and staggered inside.

My hands fumbled for a stall door; I slipped in and locked it behind me, pressing my back to the cold metal.

The tears finally spilt over.

They fell hot and silent at first, then turned into choking sobs. I pressed a hand against my mouth to muffle the sounds, my shoulders trembling.

Why?

Why can’t I have just a fragment of what they have? A spark... anything.

I cried until my chest felt hollow, until the embarrassment and the ache twisted into something sharper — shame.

Just then, the restroom door creaked open. I froze, swallowing down my sobs.

Footsteps tapped across the tiled floor. Water splashed in one of the sinks, and I caught voices — four girls, their tones light, mocking.

"Did you see her face? It was almost sad."

"Almost? It was sad. Poor thing, standing there like a lump."

"What’s she even doing at ESA? Should’ve stayed wherever she came from."

"I bet she doesn’t even have a proper wolf. An Omega with no power... what is she expecting?"

They laughed. The sound burned worse than any slap.

I curled tighter, pressing my palm harder against my mouth, forcing my breathing to quiet.