Training

~Elira~

The moment I stepped out of the room, the air felt different against my skin. It was cooler, lighter amd carrying a freshness I hadn’t realized I had been craving until now. I paused for a brief second just outside the door, my eyes adjusting to the open space as I took in my surroundings properly for the first time.

Ryker didn’t rush me, he simply stood beside me as though he already understood that everything about this place was new to me. It was unfamiliar but not unwelcoming.

The pack house stretched wider than I had expected, built into the mountain in a way that made it feel both natural and intentional. The wooden structures blended seamlessly with the rocky terrain as though they had grown from it rather than being placed there.

There were different sections, some slightly elevated, others connected by narrow paths. I could see people moving about in the distance, some in conversation, others carrying out tasks with a quiet sense of order that felt nothing like the chaos I had known.

It was peaceful.

It wasn not silent but it was calm. I realized then that my body didn’t feel as heavy as it had before, the pain that had once clung to me now reduced to a dull reminder rather than something that controlled my every movement.

I was getting better.

The thought of him came quietly, almost cautiously, as though I wasn’t ready to fully believe it yet. I exhaled slowly as I walked beside him, my steps more stable than they had been when I first woke up.

“You’re adjusting faster than I expected,” Ryker said after a moment, his voice calm. I glanced at him briefly before looking ahead again.

“I don’t feel as weak,” I admitted, my voice steady than usual.

He gave a small nod at that, his gaze moving over the pack grounds as though he was always aware of everything happening around him.

For a few seconds, we walked in silence before he spoke again. “Why did the King want you dead?”

The question came direct and without hesitation, slowing my steps without my consent. I swallowed.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like that,” I began slowly, my voice quieter now as I kept my eyes ahead, not ready to look at him while I said it, “I was just… one of the slaves they brought into the palace that night.”

The images came back too clearly, the lights, the music, the way everything had felt so overwhelming and unreal, and my chest tightened slightly as I continued.

“They said the King was looking for a mate,” I added, a faint bitterness slipping into my tone before I could stop it, “and somehow… out of everyone there… it was me.”

I let out a small breath that didn’t quite feel like relief.

“A slave,” I finished, my lips pressing together faintly as I shook my head slightly, “it didn’t make sense… it still doesn’t.”

Ryker didn’t interrupt me and that made it easier to push through the parts I didn’t want to relive.

“He rejected me,” I said after a pause, “in front of everyone… and that should have been the end of it.”

But it wasn’t.

My hand moved unconsciously toward my chest, pressing lightly against the fabric as I felt it again, that faint, unsteady pull that refused to disappear no matter how much I wanted it to.

“He still ordered my death,” I added, my voice tightening just slightly as I forced back the tears that threatned to roll down my eyes, “I don’t know if it was because of the bond… or because I was a reminder of something he didn’t want.”

Silence followed after, stretching between us for a few seconds before Ryker finally spoke again, his tone quieter now.

“Then he’s a fool,” he said simply, and there was no hesitation in his voice. I didn’t expect that.

I glanced at him briefly, surprised by how easily he said it, how casually he dismissed the power of a man like Kael. I didn’t know how to respond to that. So I didn’t.

We continued walking, the path leading us further through the pack grounds, and after a while, he spoke again.

“What about your wolf?”

My gaze dropped slightly as I thought about it. “She’s… mostly dormant,” I admitted slowly, the words feeling strange as I said them out loud, “she’s always been quiet… but after the rejection…”

I trailed off for a second, my fingers curling slightly as I tried to explain something I barely understood myself.

“I felt her,” I continued, my voice softer now, more uncertain, “just a little… like she was trying to respond… but it wasn’t strong.”

Ryker was quiet for a moment, his expression unreadable as he took in my words, and then he asked the question I hadn’t fully allowed myself to think about yet.

“What do you want to do now?”

I stopped walking. Thinking about this question for the first time. I thought it would be difficult to figure it out, but somehow… the answer came easily.

“I want to train,” I said, lifting my gaze to meet his for the first time since the conversation started. My voice more certain than it had been before, “I want to learn how to fight.”

There was a brief pause, and for the first time, I saw something shift in his expression, something close to surprise.

“Do you?” he asked as though he wanted to see if I would hesitate.

“I do,” I replied without backing down, “I don’t want to be that helpless again… I won’t be.”

He gave a small nod. “Alright,” he said simply, turning slightly as he motioned for me to follow him again, “then we start now.”

The training grounds weren’t far, a wide open space carved into the mountain terrain, the ground firm and worn from repeated use, with a few others scattered around, engaged in their own practice as we approached.

My steps slowed slightly as I took it in, a small part of me wondering if I had spoken too soon, if I had asked for something I wasn’t ready for. Before that thought could settle, Ryker reached down and picked up a long, slim training stick, tossing it toward me without warning.

I barely caught it.

The weight of it felt strange in my hands. Awkward and unbalanced, I adjusted my grip instinctively, my brows pulling together slightly as I tried to figure out how to hold it properly.

“If you want to train,” he said, stepping back as he picked up another stick for himself, his gaze steady on me, “then you start as soon as possible.”

I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure what I was doing yet. The first move came fast. Too fast.

I reacted late, clumsy as I lifted the stick to block. The impact jarred through my arms as I stumbled slightly, my grip slipping as I tried to regain control.

“Wrong,” he said immediately, not harsh, but firm, stepping back just enough to give me space before moving again. “Again.”

And we did. Over and over.

Each movement felt hard, my timing off, my stance unstable as he corrected me without hesitation. His instructions was sharp and direct as I tried to follow, tried to keep up despite how quickly it became clear that I had no idea what I was doing.

My arms ached and my grip faltered. And at some point, I lost my balance completely.

The ground tilted beneath me as my foot slipped, my body tipping forward before I could stop it, but I didn’t hit the ground. Ryker caught me.

His hand wrapped around my arm as he pulled me back. His other hand braced lightly against my waist as he kept me upright.

For a brief second, we were too close, the space between us almost nonexistent as my breath caught slightly in my throat.

I looked up. And that was when I noticed her.

She stood a short distance away, her presence quiet but impossible to ignore, her gaze fixed on us with a stillness that felt… deliberate. Ryker released me immediately, stepping back as though the moment had never happened, his expression shifting back to its usual composure as he turned toward her.

“Lyra,” he acknowledged calmly.

I straightened slightly, adjusting my grip on the stick as I looked at her properly, taking in the way she stood, confident and unmoving. Her expression was unreadable but far from welcoming.

“Hi,” I said softly, offering a small, polite smile despite the tension I could already feel settling in the air.

She didn’t respond. She just stared back.