Gift

The abandoned courtyard smelled of damp earth and iron, the remnants of a rainstorm clinging to the cracked stones. Yolanda flexed her fingers, the leather gloves Marcus had forced on her were turning hard against her palms. Too tight. Like everything else lately.

“Again,” Marcus barked, twin daggers glinting in the moonlight. She charged forward, precise but unable to land a hit. “Stop overthinking. Your wolf isn’t a sword, it’s your blood. Let it move you.”

She hated when he talked like this. Poetic. Cryptic. As if her wolf were some feral muse and not a knot of instincts that left her trembling most nights. But she bit back the retort, rolling her shoulders instead.

Her first strike was clumsy. Marcus sidestepped, his blade grazing her ribs. “Too slow.”

The second, a feint left, earned her a bruising parry. “Predictable.”

By the third attempt, frustration coiled in her chest. She lunged, teeth bared—and froze.

Marcus’s dagger hovered at her throat. “Dead,” he said flatly.

Yolanda jerked back, gloved hands raking through sweat-damp hair. “I’m trying, Marcus. I swear I’m—”

“Trying?” He sheathed his blades, voice softening. “You think Lucian’s assassins care about effort?”

They’ll cut you down before you even think about trying.”

She tightened her fists, the leather gloves creaking under the pressure. Her ribs ached where his blade had grazed her, and her legs trembled from the constant drills. But it wasn’t just physical exhaustion weighing her down, it was the constant battle with her own mind, the fear that she’d never be strong enough to protect herself, let alone Alejandro and the kingdom.

Marcus stepped closer, his gaze piercing. “You’re holding back, Yolanda. Not because of your wolf, but because you don’t trust yourself. You’re so afraid of failing that you’re not even letting yourself try, I can literally read your thoughts.

Yolanda opened her mouth to argue, but the words caught in her throat. He was right. She was afraid—afraid of failing, afraid of disappointing everyone who believed in her, afraid of the power she didn’t fully understand. But she couldn’t afford to be afraid anymore.

“Focus,” Marcus said, his voice a low growl.

This time, she didn’t hesitate. She charged at him, her movements raw and unpolished. Marcus met her with ease, his strikes precise and unrelenting. Each blow she landed was countered, each feint anticipated. Her frustration grew, a fire burning in her chest, but she pushed it down, focusing on the rhythm of their clash.

Then, something shifted.

A flash of light, no, not light, a feeling—rippled through her mind. For a split second, she saw Marcus’s next move before he made it: a low sweep of his blade aimed at her legs. She reacted without thinking, leaping back just as the dagger sliced through the air where she’d been standing.

Marcus paused, his brow moving. “Lucky dodge,” he muttered, but there was a sign of something in his eyes, curiosity, maybe even approval.

Yolanda didn’t have time to process it. He came at her again, faster this time, his strikes a blur in the moonlight. She blocked and parried, her movements still clumsy but driven by something deeper, something primal. And then it happened again—a flash of insight, a glimpse of his next strike. She sidestepped, her blade grazing his arm.

Marcus stopped dead, his eyes widening. “What was that?” he demanded, his voice sharp.

“I… I don’t know,” Yolanda stammered, her chest heaving. “I just… saw it. Before you moved.”

Marcus stared at her for a long moment, then a slow grin spread across his face. “Well, well,” he said, his tone almost proud. “Looks like you’ve got more than just fight in you.”

Before she could respond, he attacked again, this time with a ferocity that left her no room to think. But the flashes came faster now, each one clearer than the last. She saw his moves before he made them, her body reacting on instinct. Her strikes grew stronger, more precise, the strength in her arms and legs surging as if something dormant had finally awakened.

Marcus’s grin widened as he pushed her harder, his strikes coming faster and harder. But Yolanda met him blow for blow, her movements like a dam that had just broken, unrelenting. She felt the power within her, not as something separate, but as a part of her very being. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and terrifying all at once.

Finally, Marcus stepped back, his chest heaving. “Enough,” he said, his voice filled with a rare note of admiration. “You’ve got it, Yolanda. Now you just need to learn how to control it.”

Yolanda dropped the dagger, her hands trembling as she stared at them. The power still thrummed beneath her skin, a wild, untamed force that both exhilarated and frightened her. She looked up at Marcus, her voice barely a whisper. “What… what is this?”

“Precognition,” he said simply. “A rare gift, even among wolves. Your instincts aren’t just sharp, they’re ahead of the curve. Literally.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but a movement caught her eye. She turned, her gaze narrowing as she spotted a figure standing in the shadows of the courtyard. Clarice.

The woman stood perfectly still, her expression unreadable. But for a brief moment, Yolanda saw something in her eyes, fear. Real, genuine fear. Then Clarice turned and disappeared into the darkness, Yolanda knew she had a plan and was coming for her.

Marcus followed her gaze, his expression hardening. “Looks like you’ve got an audience,” he said quietly. “Be careful, Yolanda. Not everyone in this castle is on your side.”

“She’s not going to let this go,” he said quietly. “Clarice doesn’t like threats to her position, and you, Yolanda, are becoming a very big threat.”

Yolanda frowned, her chest tightening. “I’m not trying to threaten her. I’m just trying to protect myself, to protect Alejandro and the kingdom.”

“I know,” Marcus said, his tone softening. “But Clarice doesn’t see it that way. To her, you’re a rival. And rivals are dangerous.”

Yolanda sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I really don’t want to fight her, Marcus, “but she really gets on my nerves with her threats, Alejandro told me to be careful around Clarice, but i didn't she was this evil, she’s an irritant to myself and my wolf, I just want to survive and be with Alejandro.”

“Sometimes,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder, “surviving means fighting. Whether you want to or not.”

His words lingered in her mind as she made her way back to the castle, her body aching but her resolve stronger than ever. She didn’t know what the future held, but she knew one thing for certain, she wouldn’t let Clarice or anyone else stand in her way.

The power she’d unlocked was exhilarating, but she stood there still feeling confused and dissatisfied.