Chapter Thirteen

The days passed with a quiet rhythm Celeste hadn’t felt in a long time. It wasn’t perfect,some mornings still felt heavy, and some nights she stared at the ceiling too long,but there was something healing in the routine.

Work at the diner with Victoria remained a constant. They laughed over pancakes and spilled syrup, shared late-night music after closing shifts, and found comfort in their shared silence. Some evenings were spent strolling through street markets and bookstores, while others were nothing more than the two of them wrapped in blankets on the living room floor, watching movies and sipping cheap wine. Life, for once, felt soft.

And in between it all, Celeste took a quiet, personal step: she started training again.

Not in the wild, brutal sparring of her old life,but in the more grounded art of MMA. There was something cleansing in it. Her body still remembered how to move. The discipline. The focus. The freedom in striking the air and feeling the power pulse through her again. It reminded her that she was still capable. Still in control of herself. That the girl she used to be hadn't been buried…just waiting.

One morning, she caught herself smirking at the memory of Grayson scowling at Blair inside the boutique,his jaw tense, his patience clearly worn thin. It made her chest ache a little, but the amusement won out. Some part of her had needed to see that. Needed to know that he wasn’t perfectly content. That even the golden couple had cracks.

Meanwhile, for the Alpha King, peace was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

The city was restless. Rogues were more coordinated than before, moving in calculated clusters, not chaos. They struck at odd hours, never in the same place twice and left little behind but claw marks and questions. Something about their behavior was wrong. Controlled.

And still, there was that laugh.

That single note of joy, soft and fleeting, lingered in his mind like a ghost. He couldn’t remember the last time a sound had followed him this way. He hadn’t even seen her clearly that night. Just the brush of an arm, a scent like flowers in moonlight, and the sound of her laugh echoing faintly through the phone line.

He didn’t like that it haunted him.

Didn’t like that when his advisors spoke, or when he reviewed patrol routes, his mind wandered to someone who shouldn’t have mattered.

She was human.

Unremarkable.

But then why did she live rent-free in the corners of his thoughts?

Why did the tension in his chest only ease when he imagined hearing that laugh again?

And now Grayson and Blair were back in the city. Blair needing a break from the demands of Lunahood, and Grayson too indulgent to deny her.

The Alpha King had too many distractions, too many unknowns, and no tolerance for either.

But deep down, something told him this wasn’t coincidence.

Something was brewing.

**

The gym smelled faintly of old sweat, rubber mats, and something vaguely metallic, like determination itself had a scent. The lighting was sharp, the atmosphere focused. But Celeste felt calm here.

She stood barefoot in the center of the practice ring, hands wrapped, breath steady. The routine grounded her. Each movement, each strike, it helped her breathe through the noise that still lingered in her chest. A quiet strength she was reclaiming.

When the buzzer sounded, she stepped off the mat, toweling off the sweat from her brow and grabbing her water bottle. She glanced toward the entrance, expecting no one.

But Victoria was there, leaning against the wall with wide, amused eyes.

Celeste blinked. “You actually came.”

“You invited me, didn’t you?” Victoria said with a grin, crossing her arms. “Though I gotta admit, I expected something a little less… Fight Club.”

Celeste smirked. “It’s not that serious. Most days.”

“Most days,” Victoria repeated, eyeing the padded walls. “So this is your secret lair, huh?”

“It’s not a secret,” Celeste said, tossing Victoria a spare set of wraps. “And you’re not getting out of this.”

Victoria caught the wraps mid-air, her mouth falling open slightly. “Wait, what? You want me to fight?”

“I want you to train,” Celeste replied, already walking back toward the mats. “We’ll start easy. Basic footwork. Then some pads.”

Victoria followed slowly, suspicious but intrigued. “You’re not going to punch me, are you?”

“Only if you keep whining.”

“Rude.”

But Victoria stepped onto the mat anyway.

Celeste smiled to herself—soft and hidden. It meant something, sharing this space with someone. Letting Victoria see her like this. Strong. Focused. Rooted.

They started slow, Celeste walking her through the stance, correcting her balance, showing her how to jab without locking her elbow. Victoria was clumsy at first, but determined.

And when she landed a half-decent punch on the pad, she lit up. “Oh my god. I’m a weapon now.”

Celeste laughed, holding up the pad again. “Sure you are.”

Victoria’s POV

Sparring with Celeste was fun. Really fun. I hadn’t done something like this in a long time.

My brother and I used to train together, back when we were kids. Before responsibilities started stacking like bricks. Before he turned sixteen and everything about us shifted. After that, our sparring slowed… and then stopped entirely.

But this…it felt a little like going back.

Celeste and I circled each other on the mat, padded gloves up, knees bent. Her eyes were steady, her movements fluid.

Something about the way she moved… the way she threw a punch. It was familiar.

“Have you done this before?” I asked between dodges.

She tilted her head. “Not exactly,” she said, stepping lightly to the left. “But I’ve always wanted to try.”

There was something just beneath the surface of her voice. Playful. A little mischievous.

I was distracted. I could admit that.

Distracted enough that I didn’t see her next move until it was too late.

With a quick pivot and sweep, Celeste took me down flat onto the mat. My back hit the ground with a soft thud, and I blinked up at the ceiling.

She grinned down at me, breath light. “Never let your guard down when your opponent’s still in front of you.”

I groaned, laughing despite myself, “That was dirty.”

“That was smart,” she corrected, offering me a hand.

I took it, pulling myself upright.

I got off the mat, brushing a few strands of hair from my face as another woman stepped forward to spar with Celeste. She looked like she was in her element—light on her feet, fluid, focused. There was something in the way she moved that made me think this wasn’t her first time fighting, no matter what she claimed. I narrowed my eyes a little, watching the way she ducked and countered with precision.

I hadn’t been thrown like that since my brother first agreed to spar with me, and that was years ago.

I let out a quiet laugh at myself, pulled my phone from my gym bag, and stepped out into the cool hallway just outside the training room. I hit my brother’s name and waited, my finger tracing small circles along the edge of the phone.

He answered on the second ring.

“What now?” His voice was gruff but amused—default tone for my calls.

“Miss me already?” I grinned, leaning against the wall. “Or were you just sitting there brooding again?”

“Brooding is productive,” he deadpanned.

“Sure it is.” I glanced through the small window of the training room door, watching Celeste land a clean hit. “I’m at the gym.”

“Since when do you willingly go to the gym?”

“I came with Celeste,” I replied. “She’s the one sparring. I joined her for a round. Got tossed on my back.”

“Sounds about right.”

“I haven’t sparred like that since you and I used to train together.” My tone softened slightly. “Kind of miss it.”

There was a pause. Then his voice came back, quieter. “Yeah. Me too.”

I let the moment breathe, then added, “You should come by sometime. Might do you some good to knock someone around that isn’t a rogue.”

He gave a low chuckle. “Tempting.”

I hesitated. “Celeste... she’s good. Like, naturally good. She says she’s never really done this before, but I don’t know. Something about the way she moves—it’s familiar.”

There was another pause on the line. Longer this time.

“Familiar how?”

“I don’t know. Just... trained. Maybe she’s a fast learner. Or maybe she’s done something similar before and just didn’t say.”

“She’s quiet,” he said.

“She’s also kind. And strong. I like having her around.”

His voice low again. “Just... be careful, Vic.”

I rolled my eyes. “You say that about everyone.”

“And I’m usually right.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I trust her.” I looked through the window again—Celeste had just landed another takedown. “Even if she’s got secrets.”

“I’ll stop by,” he said eventually. “Soon.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” I smirked. “And maybe I’ll let you win.”

“Cute,” he muttered.

“Love you too,” I chimed before hanging up.

And then I went back inside—to the sound of bodies hitting mats and Celeste laughing breathlessly.

Somethings about her still didn’t make sense. But for now, I was okay with that