<b>Chapter </b><b>47 </b>
The training groundsy just beyond the forest fine a t open field surrounded by trees and old stone pirs that get the feet of in smoar
The first day, I barelysted an hos
Warmups alone left me breathless. Marlow backed neders like a drill sergeant while Audrey gently corrected my posture, bnce, and stances.
“You’re leading with your shoulders,” she said, adjusting my arm again. “You need to move from your open)
“I don’t have a core,” I wheezed. “it died sor
sed somewhere back in the jumping jacks.“
Marlowughed. “Don’t worry, I rise from the grave eventually.”
Sweat dripped into my eyes. My legs shook. My body, so used to quiet routines–paint, books, walks–had no clue how to respond to this sudden war zone regimen.
But I didn’t give up.
Every time I fell, I got back up. Every time I made a mistake; I asked for the correction. I wanted to know where I was weak–so I <b>could </b>be stronger
Francesco didn’te down.
But I felt him.
Each morning, as the <b>sun </b>crested the trees, I’d sense a presence near the edge of the forest <b>Mika</b>, my wolf, always whispered<b>: </b>He’s watching. And somehow, that made the ache in my muscles worth it
This wasn’t just for me anymore.
It was for the girl who never had the chance to train, to grow, to fight back
<b>It </b><b>was </b>for the <b>Luna </b><b>I </b>was trying to be
And for the pack who needed to see what I was made of
Even if I had to bleed to prove it.
Go to Francesco – Alpha of Italian Pack point of view:
I shouldn’t be watching her.
Not like this. Not every day. Not from the <b>shadows </b>liko’some half–broken ghost
But I can’t help it….
Every morning without fail, my senses pull toward the edge of the training grounds. I tell myself I’m just checking her progress. That as to be informed.
But that’s <b>a </b>lie.
Ie because I need to <b>see </b>her.
My Luna. <b>My </b>mate. My ine..
<b>1/4 </b>
ha, I need
<b>She </b>moves awowardly–her stance to open, her fiets too tight–but than’t find in her Abarca, unrelenting fire that bu?ng Blight? trained beside
She’s never learned to fight, never shifted, never been given the fadly to suniya in this brutal world, and yet here she is, bedring a blistering her feet, just to take back some control.
And thate it
Thate that she needs this
I hate that someone made her feel this powerless.
Lucas growls low in my chest, restless, furious. “Why must she do this? We are strong for her. We protect her. Why is that not arough?
Because she’s not the girl who waits in towers for rescue.
She’s the one who breaks the door down herself.
And deep down… know even Lucas and I can’t cage her spirit.
“Alpha Beta Alfonso’s voice pulls me from my thoughts
I nce toward him, realizing I’ve been standing at the balcony window of my office for far too long, arms crossed, eyes locked on the field below where she trains with Marlow and Audrey
“You should go down there,” he says casually. “Say hi Or growl like <b>an </b>overprotective wolf, Either works.”
I smirk, but I don’t look at him. “She’ll get nervous if she sees me.”
“You think she hasn’t noticed you watching her every day?”
“She’s focused,” I mutter. “I don’t want to distract her.”
He falls silent, and for a moment, t the only sound is the distant bark of Marlow’s voice instructing her to fix her stance again.
“Are you <b>a </b>
alright? A
Alfonso asks gently.
He knows me <b>too </b>well,
Lexhale slowly, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Just… worried.”
He steps beside me, following my gare “it’s strange, isn’t it? After everything… after so many years of silence in your heart–then shees. And turns
rentire world upside down.”
I grunt. “With her stubbornness, gods above,”
He chuckles. “Yet here you are, letting her fight. Letting her get bruised and battered.”
“I can’t say no to her,” I munur. “Even when I war to. She’s my everything”
We fall into a heavy silence
And then he <b>speaks </b>again, quieter this time. “Have <b>you </b>told her about… the other thing?”
He doesn’t finish the sentence because he doesn’t need to. We both know what he’s talking about.
Chapter <b>41 </b>
The <b>surge </b>of power that radiated from Eine during the rogue attack. The unnatural warmth in the air. The shoe gi?is the like <b>light </b>bending to her will Not wolf. Not fully
“She’s something else, Alfonso murmurs.
I don’t answer, Alfonso knows, he always knows from long time ago about her truly are, even when the tries to hide it from everyone
Anastasia–my former mate, a witch who died far too young and left a mark on this world too deep to forget
But somehow, some way, the essence of her magic–thest remnants of her strength–are now shining inside my ine. A connection I don’t understand. A legacy neither <b>of </b><b>us </b>asked for.
“She’s changing.” Alfonso says.
“<b>She’s </b>awakening,” I correct, my voice low
And I’m terrified.
Not of her but of what the world might try to do once they discover who she’s bing
So I do what I’ve always done.
I train….
Yes, <b>every </b>night, after meetings and briefings, after pretending to rest, I disappear into the dark forests behind the estate the ce only and the spints know.
I shift. I fight phantom enemies. I push my body until it aches. Until I copse. Until the Alpha was–the warrior I was bom to bees back sharper, <b>stronger </b>
Marlow and Alfonso have tried to stop me: Pleaded, even,
But I can’t stop… Because if I am stronger, then Lucas will be too.
And if Lucas is strong… then we will be strong enough to protect her.
From anything. From everything
<b>And </b><b>maybe</b>, just maybe<b>, </b><b>I’ll </b>be able to breathe again.
That night, I sense her before I see her.
The door creaks open slowly, and there she is–Eine, dragzing her fact into our room, cheeks flushed, hair tied messily, her clothes damp with sweat
and dust from the Geld.
She doesn’t say <b>a </b>word. She looks half asleep on for feet.
I’m across the room in seconds.
“Eino,” I whisper, gently taking her hand before she copses. “You pushed too hard again.”
She tries to shake her head, but even that movement seems to drain her. “I’m fine,” she mumbles.
Stubborn!!!
ry her into the bathroom, and tum on the warm water.
I don’t argue her, instead, 1scoop her up in fly arms, carry
She leans into metilently as I wash the dirt from her skin, brushing hair from her forehead and wiping away sweat and prime with a general i didn’t know I possessed
Her eyes flutter closed
By the time I dry her off and carry her to bed, she’s barely conscious, her hand dutching the front of my
– tho’s afraid I’d disappear
I tuck her incarefully, sitting beside her for along while, brushing my fingers through her hair.
“Rest,” I whisper, pressing my lips to her forehead. “Tomorrow will be better”
Because I’ll make sure of it.
No matter what storm ising
She won’t face it alone. <b>Never </b>when she <b>has </b>me.
AD