The Queen in Training

Lucian

***** Hours Later *****

The chamber was quiet.

Too quiet.

Hours had passed since the blood-marking, but my mind was still replaying the surge of power that came from the girl. Fia. Even her breathing held a strange rhythm, like she was linked to something I couldn’t see.

Elena had finally fallen asleep after fighting exhaustion as long as she could. The twins rested beside her, tucked safely under her arm, peaceful in a way that didn’t match what lived inside their blood.

I stood near the stone wall, watching the small family I had risked everything for.

I didn’t expect to care this much.

I wasn’t supposed to.

But something shifted in me the moment those children cried for the first time. Something old. Something protective. Something dangerous.

When Elena stirred awake, her eyes immediately searched for the twins. I stepped forward.

“They’re fine,” I said quietly. “They haven’t moved.”

She let out a breath and sat up slowly. She looked exhausted but determined, both things that made her far stronger than she realized.

“I feel… different,” she said.

“You should,” I answered. “Everything has changed now. And you don’t have the luxury to remain the same.”

Her brows pulled together. “What do you mean?”

I didn’t soften my tone. “You’re a mother. But you’re also the only shield those twins have. And now that the binding and marking are complete, you can’t afford weakness.”

She straightened a little, the fire in her eyes flickering to life. “I survived leaving my mate. I survived almost dying. I survived giving birth in the middle of a cave. Don’t tell me I’m weak.”

I nodded once. “Good. Then you’re ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“Training.”

Her eyes widened. “Training? Lucian, I just gave birth a few hours ago.”

“I’m not asking you to fight,” I said, stepping closer. “Not yet. Your recovery matters. But you need to start learning now. You don’t have time. The world is already moving.”

I could see her trying to understand. Trying to keep up. She looked tired, but underneath the exhaustion was grit.

“Learning what?” she finally asked.

“Who you are,” I said. “And who you need to become.”

She swallowed, gaze flicking down at the twins. “If it helps me keep them safe… then tell me what to do.”

A small part of me, one I barely acknowledged, felt something like respect tighten in my chest.

“You’ll start with your mind,” I said. “Awareness. Control. Discipline. Before you can wield strength, you must understand it.”

She shifted to stand, but I held up a hand.

“Slow,” I warned. “I’m not training you like a soldier. I’m shaping you into a leader.”

Her breath caught. “A leader?”

“Yes.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think I’”

“You are,” I cut in. “Or you will be. Your children won’t grow up hidden in this cave. They’ll grow in a world that fears and wants them. You need to be ready before they open their eyes and start walking.”

Elena went silent.

For the first time, real weight settled on her shoulders. Mother. Protector. Future queen of a people she didn’t even know she belonged to yet.

“Alright,” she said. “Teach me.”

I stepped back. “Stand.”

She stood slowly, bracing herself on the stone bed. I watched carefully. Her legs trembled from the strain of childbirth, but she forced herself straight.

Good.

“Close your eyes,” I instructed.

She obeyed.

“Tell me what you hear.”

She hesitated. “The twins breathing.”

“What else?”

“The wind from the cracks in the rock.”

I nodded. “And?”

She listened harder. Her face tightened.

“There’s… something else. Something faint. A low… humming?”

I stiffened. “Describe it.”

“It’s coming from deeper underground. Like a distant heartbeat.”

She had felt it.

The power buried beneath this mountain.

A power she was tied to.

“Good,” I said. “Your senses are waking. You need to sharpen them.”

She opened her eyes. “Is that why you train me? Because of whatever that humming is?”

“No,” I said. “That’s only part of it.”

“Then what’s the real reason?”

I met her gaze steadily. “Because the person you were… is gone. The moment those twins were born, your old life ended.”

A flicker of pain crossed her face, Chase’s rejection, Seraphina’s humiliation, the pack turning their backs on her.

Elena wasn’t just exhausted.

She was grieving the version of herself she’d lost.

“You survived everything they threw at you,” I said. “Now you need to learn to rise above it.”

Her jaw clenched. “And you think I can?”

“I wouldn’t waste my time if I didn’t.”

She breathed slowly, visibly grounding herself. “Alright. What next?”

“Balance,” I answered. “You need to stand steady even when your body is tired.”

“Lucian… I literally just gave birth.”

“And yet you’re standing,” I said. “Start with moving to the center of the chamber.”

She sighed but obeyed, taking slow steps.

Each step showed her exhaustion, shaking muscles, uneven breaths, .pbut she pushed anyway.

That was what mattered.

When she reached the center, she placed a hand on the wall to steady herself.

“No support,” I said.

She gritted her teeth and removed her hand.

“How does this help me fight danger?”

“It’s not for fighting,” I said. “It’s for trust. Trust in yourself. Trust in your instincts. And trust that you are not as fragile as you think.”

She exhaled shakily. “And after this?”

“After this,” I said, “you learn discipline.”

She raised a brow. “Meaning?”

“Meaning you stop reacting out of fear and start reacting with intention. Everything you’ve done so far has been survival. Now you learn control.”

She was silent for a moment. Then she said, “Show me.”

I stepped behind her and spoke softly. “Close your eyes again.”

She did.

“Listen to your own breathing,” I said. “Slow it down.”

Her breaths steadied.

“Now listen to the mountain. Feel the vibration beneath your feet.”

She frowned. “It feels… alive.”

“It is.”

She shivered but didn’t move.

“Now,” I whispered, “find yourself within it. That center inside you that hasn’t broken, hasn’t bent. Find the part of you that endured everything.”

Her fingers curled slightly, like she was grabbing something invisible.

“I feel it,” she whispered back.

“Hold on to it,” I said. “Because that is what will turn you from a survivor into a leader.”

She opened her eyes slowly.

The exhaustion was still there, but something else had joined it, resolve.

She returned to the twins, touching their tiny hands. “I’ll do whatever it takes,” she murmured. “For them.”

“And that,” I said, “is why you’ll succeed.”

She looked over at me. “What’s next?”

“We continue tomorrow,” I said. “Your body needs rest. Training your mind will take time. But soon, we’ll move to physical training.”

She nodded. “And after that?”

“After that,” I said carefully, “you’ll start learning who you really are.”

Her breath hitched. “Who… I really am?”

“Yes.”

I could see endless questions forming in her eyes, but before she could ask, the twins stirred, tiny cries breaking the silence.

She rushed to them instantly, her expression softening.

I watched her.

A mother.

A fighter.

A future leader.

She just didn’t know it yet.

And she wouldn’t understand the full truth, the truth of her bloodline, her birthright, and why the world wanted her dead…. until she was strong enough to carry it.

But she was getting there.

Slowly.

Steadily.

Becoming exactly what fate demanded.

Elena

***** Later that night*****

I held Finn against my chest, rocking him gently. Fia stretched beside him, her little fingers curling around mine.

My whole world was here.

And it was terrifying.

Lucian stood near the edge of the chamber, arms crossed, gaze fixed on me like he was trying to measure how much weight I could carry before I broke.

I didn’t break.

Not anymore.

Not after everything.

But I wasn’t the person I used to be either. Something about today….. about training, about hearing the heartbeat under the mountain, shook something awake in me.

Something I couldn’t explain yet.

When Lucian turned away, fixing some protective symbol on the wall, I finally asked:

“Lucian?”

He didn’t turn. “Yes?”

“You said tomorrow we keep training.”

“Yes.”

“And then, after training… you’d tell me something.”

This time he turned. Slowly. His eyes unreadable, but serious in a way that made the air feel heavier.

“Yes,” he said. “When you’re ready.”

I swallowed. “Ready for what?”

“For the truth,” he answered. “About your blood. Your past. And why the world wants you dead.”

My stomach tightened.

“And who I really am,” I whispered.

Lucian held my gaze.

Not blinking.

Not softening.

Not lying.

“Yes,” he said. “You’ll learn who you truly are.”

A silent chill ran through me.

For the first time since giving birth, I wasn’t afraid.

I was curious.

Dangerously curious.

And I needed answers.

“Then tomorrow,” I said, “we start again.”

Lucian nodded once. “Tomorrow.”

I looked down at my twins, tiny, warm, innocent…. and my chest tightened with a feeling I couldn’t name.

I wasn’t just a mother.

I wasn’t just a runaway.

I wasn’t just the rejected Luna of Silverfang.

Something inside me whispered that I was more.

Much more.

And tomorrow…

I would finally begin to learn the truth.