Chapter 95 Training in secret

Chapter 95: Chapter 95 Training in secret

Talia’s POV

The next morning, I woke up with a new sense of purpose.

I had one month to prepare for a trial I did not fully understand. I could not use my voice magic, and I could not use any power that set me apart, so I would have to rely on myself.

I thought about the trial, about the unknown threat, and about the person I would have to protect.

’What if I was not strong enough? What if I froze? Or what if someone died because of me?’

I pushed the thoughts away instantly, because they were just fears, and fear would not help me. Instead, fear would only make me weak.

I needed to be strong, I needed to be ready, and I knew that I would be.

Because I had survived fifteen years in Cresswood, I had survived Vivienne’s poison, and I had survived Alpha Stone’s rage.

So I would survive this too.

I ate breakfast quickly, barely tasting the food, because my mind was already racing, planning, and strategizing how I needed to train my body, my fists, and my strength.

I walked through the pack house, with my eyes scanning every corner, and every hallway. I needed a place where no one would find me, and a place where I could train in secret.

It took me two days, but I finally found it.

At the edge of the pack house, past the storage rooms and the old library, there was a door I had never noticed before. It was made of dark wood, and the handle was rusted.

I pushed it open.

The room was dusty and dark, and cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and the air smelled of old stone and forgotten things. But against the walls were punching bags, with their leather cracked and faded. Weapons hung on racks, and a training dummy stood in the corner, with its surface scarred from years of use.

This was perfect.

I walked to the punching bag and pressed my palm against its cracked surface. The leather was rough and cold, but it would serve its purpose.

I had never trained before. In Cresswood, there was no one to teach me, and no one to show me how to fight.

But I had watched the warriors in Blackmoor Valley. I had seen how they moved, how they punched, and how they kicked.

So I would teach myself.

I pulled my hair back and tightened the band. Then I raised my fists.

My first punch was weak and awkward, and my fist barely made a dent in the bag.

But I did not stop.

That night, I started training.

I punched the bags until my knuckles bled, I kicked until my legs ached, I ran in place until my lungs burned, and I used the weapons, swinging swords and axes until my arms trembled.

I trained until I could not lift my arms anymore. Then I trained a little more.

My knuckles were raw and bleeding, but I did not feel the pain, because I was too focused, and too determined.

I thought about Serena. About the way she looked at Kaelen, and about the questions she was asking.

She was planning something, and it was definitely something worse than before.

But I would not let her win.

I punched the bag again, harder this time. The chain rattled, and dust fell from the ceiling.

Then I punched it again, harder. And again, until sweat dripped down my face, stinging my eyes. My arms were heavy, but I kept going.

No one knew what I was doing, because I told no one.

Every night, I slipped out of the room after Kaelen fell asleep. I crept through the dark hallways, with my bare feet silent on the stone floors. I trained for hours, then crept back to bed before dawn.

Kaelen noticed I was tired, and he asked if I was sleeping.

"Yes," I lied.

I could see it in his eyes that he did not believe me, but he did not push it.

My wolf stirred inside me as I trained. She was watching and waiting, and I could feel her presence, strong and steady. She did not speak, but she was there pushing me, and encouraging me.

I trained harder, and I tried to keep my emotions in check so I would not alert Kaelen by triggering the mate bond.

I moved to the weapons rack and picked up a wooden sword. It was heavier than I expected, and my arms trembled as I held it.

I swung at the training dummy, and the blade struck its shoulder and bounced off.

I swung again, and again, and again.

My form was sloppy, and my strikes were weak. But with every swing, I got a little better, and a little stronger.

My wolf stirred inside me, watching and assessing. I could feel her approval, her warm pushes, and her steady cheers.

"You are learning," she seemed to say.

But I said nothing, and I swung harder.

My knuckles scabbed over and broke open again. My muscles screamed with intense pain, but I did not stop. I could not stop, because if I stopped, I would fail. And if I failed, people would get hurt.

I would not let that happen.

One night, I was in the middle of an intense set of punches that made my whole body shake from the pressure, when I heard footsteps behind me.

I spun around fast, with my fists raised to attack, and my heart pounding.

Then I saw Kaelen.

The room was dark, and the only light came from the single torch flickering on the wall. Shadows danced across Kaelen’s face, making his expression hard to read.

He stepped into the room, with his boots echoing on the stone floor. His gray eyes moved across the punching bags, the weapons, and the training dummy. Then they landed on my bleeding knuckles.

"How long have you been doing this?" he asked with a cold voice.

"A week," I said.

"Every night?" he asked again.

"Every night," I answered.

His jaw tightened. "You should have told me."

"I did not want anyone to know," I replied.

Kaelen was standing in the doorway.

"You should not be training alone," he said.

I lowered my fists, as my chest continued heaving. Sweat dripped down my face, and my hands were shaking.

"I did not have a choice," I said.

"You always have a choice." He walked toward me, and his footsteps were slow and deliberate. "You chose to hide this, and you chose to train alone."

"Because I could not risk anyone finding out," I replied.

"Finding out what?" he asked.

"That I am weak." I looked away from him.

He stopped in front of me and raised my chin. His gray eyes were soft, but his voice was firm.

"You are not weak, Talia."

"I cannot use my powers. Without them, I am just..." my voice cracked.

"Just what?" he said, staring at me.

I looked away. "Nothing."

He reached out and took my hand, turning it over to look at my bleeding knuckles. Then his thumb traced the raw skin gently.

"You are not nothing," he said. "You have never been nothing."

My throat tightened.

"Tomorrow, I will train with you," he said. "You will not do this alone."

I stared at him. "Why?"

"Because I will not let you," he said firmly.

He let go of my hand and walked to the door. Then he stopped and looked back at me.

"Come back to the room, and get some rest. Tomorrow, we start."

Then he was gone.