Doesn't Feel Right

The smell of charred earth fills the air, a blend of burned grass and smoke, it envelopes me as I shift in place, adjusting my stance.

The rooftop training room of the Silver Tower is well equipped, more than any I have ever seen. Not that I have seen much since I did not really live in the Everdale pack house, but my point remains valid. It is late afternoon, the sun burning across the open space is harsh.

Across the room, dozens of targets are lined, some still standing, others smoldering pieces of my past attempts.

Sweat pours from my temple, and I wipe it down with my sleeve, curling my fingers as the flame crackles to life between them. 

It comes too easily now, answering my call without hesitation. That should comfort me. Instead, it unsettles me, my lack of control becomes even more apparent.

"Again."

Alaric's quiet voice carries over the space between us. He is a step or two away, his arms crossed, his eyes fixed on me.

I inhale deeply, rolling my shoulders, and then I concentrate. The flame writhes in my hand, hungry, impatient. This time I won't let it slip.

A ragged exhale, then release.

The flames leap forward, scorching along the training room in a brilliant golden ribbon. They hit the wooden target dead on, engulfing it in an instant burst of flames.

Triumph rushes through me, but it is only short lived as in the next moment, the fire rages.

It spreads too quickly, sweeping across the training room, twisting into strands that reach past my target. My heart races as I frantically attempt to rein it in, but the flames have already gone beyond my containment, reaching out hungrily to the next from my intended target, and then the next and it just keeps going.

Thick, slithering strands of shadows materialize at the edges of the room, surging at the flames before I can figure out what to do next. The shadows are swift and effective, swallowing up the flames. Smoke curls up to the sky in the aftermath, the smell heavy in my chest.

I turn, grimacing. Alaric's expression is blank and unreadable as he lowers his hand.

"Still letting it control you," he says, his eyes narrowed. His tone is calm, but biting. 

My stomach twists and I scowl. "I had it."

"No, you nearly set the building on fire." He deadpanned.

"It was contained." I murmur.

He raised an eyebrow. "Barely."

"I'm trying, but you're not making this exactly easy for me." I argue.

He raised a brow. "What do you want? Admiration for nearly setting the tower on fire?"

My jaws clench. It has been a week since we left the island, since that moment I got to know his history in a way he hadn't intended me to.

A week, and I still haven't decided what to do about what I know.

I haven't brought it up. Neither has he.

Instead, we have fallen into this training routine, an almost normalcy that neither of us dares to disrupt.

I'm not sure what to do with what I discovered. I'm even more unsure about what to do with him.

So I've been focused on the one thing I actually can, our child. 

The tower has been abuzz with low whispers of excitement since our return. The Alpha Supreme's heir. The word had been contained within his inner circle, Cedric, Sera, Rhett, and Milo.

Sera had been the most expressive, her warm brown eyes filled with emotion when she cupped my face and whispered, "You’re not alone in this."

Cedric had smirked, "It’s about time Alaric had something to fight for beyond his own brooding."

Even Milo, the ever-reserved one, had mumbled something about preparations, mentioning a nursery before quickly disappearing to avoid further conversation.

And Rhett…

I've kept my distance. I can see he is sincere. At least, he seems that way, but I still feel awkward.

Red Ember was just a few months ago. It is difficult to forget how he'd kissed me, how he'd gazed at me as if I was the thing he desired most.

But now, there is nothing in his gaze but friendship. Genuine happiness for me. For Alaric.

It will just take me sometime to adjust back to the natural flow of things between us.

"Again."

Alaric’s voice pulls me back to reality. I exhale sharply, stepping forward, while shaking off the tension coiling in my chest.

This time, I'll get it right.

The flame curls around my fingers, gentler, more steady. I coaxed it forward, a steady release, and thrust it at the target. It hit dead center, burning a hole right through and then it fizzles out. Just enough, no more, no less.

Alaric nods. "Better."

A flicker of warmth stirs in my chest, something precariously close to pride. I quickly suppress it, refusing to feel anything other than focus.

As we head back down from the rooftop, the sky is beginning to shift, the soft hues of sunset creeping over the horizon.

We fall into step beside each other, the silence between us is easy but tense, full of things that neither of us intends to voice.

I sneak a glance at him, the light of the sun dipping towards the horizon casts shadows on the angles of his stern face.

I'd been keeping him at arm's length since our return. And I know it hurts him.

I see it in the way he hesitates sometimes. The way his fingers would twitch, as if stopping himself from reaching for me. The way his voice gentles when speaking to me, even when he is attempting to be stern.

But he never presses.

I can tell he feels responsible for the distance. Even though I'm not sure how.

Just as we get to the elevator, a curt voice called out.

"Supreme!"

It's one of the pack members, his face is drawn in sharp lines of distress.

Alaric's whole bearing changes almost immediately. His shoulders square, gaze sharpening into something unreadable.

"What is it?"

"An urgent call from the Werewolf Council." The guard pauses. "They told me it can't wait."

Something in the air turns heavy.

I watch as Alaric’s jaw tenses, the flicker of something dark passing through his eyes before he masks it. He exhales once, then turns to me.

"We’ll continue this later."

And with that, he strides off, disappearing into the depths of the tower.

I remain standing in place, and a strange unease settles in her chest.

Something about this doesn't feel right.