Chapter 278Â
FAYEÂ
Training days used to feel different.Â
They used to burn.Â
425 PardsÂ
Not just the muscles–everything else, too. Anger, fear, the constant need to prove that I belonged in aÂ
world that was always testing how much pain I could take before I broke. I used to throw myself into sparring like it was the only language I spoke fluently.Â
Now, I stood at the edge of the training field with my arms folded, watching Kyle circle one of the newerÂ
recruits, my boots planted firmly in the dirt, my breathing slow and even.Â
The sun sat high above Blood Crescent, warm. Dust clung to the air in thin, lazy clouds as wolves shiftedÂ
in and out of stances, their movements sharp, eager. Laughter cut through the clang of practice blades and the dull thud of bodies hitting the ground.Â
I wasn’t in the middle of it.Â
That alone would have shocked anyone who’d known me a few months ago.Â
Kyle barked a correction–foot placement, angle of attack–and the recruit adjusted immediately. I noddedÂ
once to myself, approving. When another pair stumbled into a messy grapple, I spoke up.Â
“Don’t rush it,” I called. “You’re strong, not sloppy. Use that.”Â
They straightened instantly.Â
I paced slowly along the edge of the field, offering input here and there, never stepping in, never reachingÂ
for a weapon. My body remembered what to do–I could feel it humming beneath my skin–but I didn’tÂ
answer the pull.Â
Not today.Â
Pregnancy had changed the rhythm of my training long before loss ever did. I hadn’t stopped completely,Â
but I’d learned restraint. Learned how to listen when my body told me to slow down. And now… nowÂ
restraint felt like choice.Â
Kyle finished the round and lifted a hand.Â
“All right,” he said loudly. “That’s enough for now.”Â
The recruits straightened, breathing hard, sweat streaking down their faces.Â
Kyle turned, his gaze landing on me with a respectful nod. “Luna.”Â
I looked up.Â
“We’re moving on to the next phase,” he continued, then hesitated–just a fraction–before adding, “IÂ
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thought it might be useful if you gave them a quick demonstration.”Â
There it was… I could tell he’d been dying to ask me.Â
The field went quiet in that expectant way.Â
I blinked once.Â
“I’m fine,” I said lightly. “You’ve got it handled.”Â
A murmur rippled through the group–confusion more than disappointment.Â
175 PointsÂ
Kyle frowned, clearly not expecting the refusal. “With respect, Luna,” he said carefully, “they learn fasterÂ
when they see it done properly.”Â
I smiled at him. “And you can’t do it well… nice try.”Â
That only seemed to encourage him.Â
“I could pair up with you,” he offered, grinning. “Just a round.”Â
I opened my mouth to decline again–and then I felt it.Â
That familiar, unmistakable awareness.Â
I glanced to my left.Â
Alexander stood a short distance away, hands folded across his chest, posture relaxed, eyes fixed on theÂ
field. On me. He wasn’t interfering, wasn’t directing. Just watching.Â
Something mischievous sparked in my chest immediately.Â
I’d always wanted to spar with Alexander.Â
He’d always found a reason not to.Â
I turned back to Kyle, then lifted my voice just enough to carry.Â
“I’ll do it,” I said. “On one condition.”Â
Kyle’s eyes lit up. “Name it.”Â
I shifted slightly, angling my body so Alexander was squarely in my line of sight.Â
“I’ll only spar if Alpha Alexander is my partner.”Â
The reaction was instant.Â
Laughter, cheers. A few outright howls of approval.Â
I smirked, eyes locked on Alexander.Â
He laughed too–soft, surprised–and shook his head. Slowly.Â
No.Â
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“Oh, come on,” I called. “Don’t tell me you’re scared.”Â
The wolves ate that up.Â
Kyle threw his hands up. “I’m sorry, Alpha,” he yelled. “You’re outvoted.”Â
Alexander sighed like a man who knew exactly how trapped he was.Â
I walked over and caught his sleeve, tugging him toward the field. “What’s your problem?” he mutteredÂ
under his breath.Â
I shrugged innocently. “Nothing. Look at their faces. Are you really going to turn them down?”Â
He opened his mouth–probably to refuse again–but I leaned in slightly and lowered my voice.Â
“If you win,” I said sweetly, “I’ll do anything you ask.”Â
That got his attention.Â
“And if I win,” I added, eyes gleaming, “you’ll get me anything I ask.”Â
There was a beat of silence.Â
Then Alexander smirked.Â
He pulled his shirt over his head in one smooth motion and tossed it aside.Â
“Deal.”Â
The cheers nearly shook the field apart. This was obviously not about the demonstration for them anymore. They were excited for the match.Â
I stepped onto the field, the dirt cool under my boots despite the heat of the afternoon sun. The recruits gathered around, murmuring excitedly, and even Kyle took a step back to watch. But I wasn’t looking at them. My gaze was locked on Alexander. That faint smirk still tugged at the corner of his mouth, daringÂ
me to challenge him.Â
“Ready?” I asked, letting the word carry across the small distance between us.Â
He folded his arms, leaning casually on one leg. “Always,” he said. Then he dropped his arms, shifting intoÂ
stance with a grace that made every movement seem effortless.Â
I mirrored him, feeling the familiar hum in my body–the pull of reflex, of muscle memory. My fists weren’tÂ
clenched yet, but my mind was alert, analyzing, anticipating. I could almost hear the crowd’s pulse.Â
“Remember,” Alexander said lightly, almost teasing, “don’t go easy just because you think I won’t hurt you.”Â
“Trust me,” I replied. “I haven’t gone easy in a long time.”Â
The first move was his. Quick. A faint feint to my left, testing, and I leaned into it, stepping aside. I struck back, a calculated jab aiming for his midsection, but he shifted, letting my fist skim past without contact. The smirk widened–he liked this. I could see it in the way his eyes lit up with that same dangerous amusement he always carried, even in training.Â
< Chapter 278Â
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I pivoted, sweeping low, aiming for a leg sweep. Alexander jumped, turning midair, landing lightly, perfectly balanced. I blinked, impressed despite myself. He’d never lost that edge, that awareness that made him dangerous without needing to hit hard.Â
“Not bad,” he murmured, like he wasn’t expecting me to get that close. His voice was low, steady, teasing, and I realized he was having as much fun as I was.Â
I lunged, faster this time, a straight punch to his chest. He caught my wrist midair. Our eyes met, and for a heartbeat, the field vanished. The heat of the afternoon, the cheers, the dust–all gone. There was only theÂ
pull between us.Â
“Stronger than I expected,” he said quietly. Then he released my wrist, spinning away, circling like a predator giving me a moment to breathe.Â
I grinned. That gave me an idea. If he wanted to test my strength, fine. I’d make him earn every inch. I adjusted my stance, letting my weight shift, readying my arms and legs for a combination he wouldn’t seeÂ
coming.Â
Alexander advanced again, measured, careful, like he was gauging. I darted forward, feinting left, striking right, and he blocked, but just barely. My foot caught him lightly in the shin–a glancing blow–and I couldn’t help the triumphant flicker of satisfaction that warmed my chest.Â
He didn’t react the way I expected… no grimace. Just that calm, almost teasing glance, and the faintestÂ
chuckle.Â
“Careful,” he said. “Or you’ll regret it.”Â
That made me laugh–a short, sharp burst that echoed in the open air. “Regret? Me?” I taunted, circling him now, moving with deliberate grace. “You’ll be the one regretting it.”Â
He lunged suddenly, and I barely managed to twist aside, the air whooshing past my ear as his fist cut through the space I’d just vacated. I countered with a low sweep, and this time, he stumbled slightly–butÂ
recovered instantly.Â
“Better,” he said approvingly. “But not enough.”Â
I smirked. “Then show me what you’ve got, Alpha.”Â
His next move caught me unaware.Â
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