Training
CHAPTER FIVE
Training
Selene’s POV
The first blow hit me so hard, I fell flat on the ground. My back slammed against the dirt, and I gasped for air. “Get up,” Ronan said from where he stood.
I blinked at the sky, eyes watering. My arms ached. My legs were shaking. My body wasn’t used to this. My soul was even weaker.
But I rolled over, pushed up with my palms, and stood on my feet. Again.
I had to.
Even if I bled, I had to.
Because I saw Kael’s face when he stood beside Mira, his hand on her stomach, his voice loud as he said, “This child will carry my name... and rule this pack.”
My father’s pack. No.
That child will never be Alpha. Not while I still breathe.
Ronan raised his hand again. “Focus. Move with your feet.”
I tried.
I swung at him, but he caught my hand easily.
He didn’t hit me this time. He just looked at me with disappointment. “Your anger is loud, Selene. It’s making you blind.”
“I’m trying!” I shouted, my voice breaking. “I’m trying and it’s not enough!”
I pushed him away and stumbled back.
Tears burned my eyes.
“I’m weak. I can’t fight. I couldn’t even protect myself from a lie. I couldn’t protect my father. I let Kael slap me, disgrace me—humiliate me—and I didn’t fight back.”
I dropped to my knees, crying into my hands. “I’m nothing, Ronan... I’m just a broken girl.” There was silence for a long moment.
Then I felt his arms wrap around me from behind. He didn’t speak at first. He just held me.
Not tightly.
Gently.
Like he was afraid I would break if he held me too hard.
“You are not broken,” he said softly. “You are just... hurt. Hurt people can become strong. But only if they don’t give up.”
His voice was warm in my ear. It made something inside me ache in a way I couldn’t explain.
“I watched your father train when we were younger,” he whispered. “He used to fall. He wasn’t born strong, Selene. He became strong. Through pain. Through fire.”
I turned slowly to look at him.
His silver hair fell slightly over his forehead. There was a scar under his eye I hadn’t noticed before.
He looked like someone who had lost so much... and yet still stood tall.
“I want to be strong like him,” I whispered.
“You can be,” he said.
I stared into his eyes. They were close now. His face just inches from mine. I felt my breath catch in my throat.
I didn’t know what was happening.
But for a moment, it was like the world faded.
The forest.
The pain.
The betrayal.
Everything disappeared.
There was just me and him.
He lifted his hand, brushing a tear off my cheek with his thumb. His touch was warm.
And then...
He leaned closer.
My heart beat faster. I could feel his breath on my lips. I closed my eyes—
A knock came at the cabin door.
We both pulled away quickly.
Ronan stood up. His body tense. His eyes back to being sharp.
He opened the door, and an old man stepped in. Dressed in dark traveling clothes. His eyes widened when he saw me.
He bowed his head. “Lady Selene.”
“Who are you?” I asked, surprised.
“I served your father,” he said. “I followed your scent when I heard rumors you might be alive.” My heart dropped. “Rumors?”
He nodded and glanced at Ronan. “There’s news... terrible news.”
Ronan let him in fully, and I sat down, listening with shaking hands.
“Kael and Mira are planning a celebration. They’re calling it the ‘New Dawn Ceremony.’”
I froze.
“What does that mean?” I asked, though I already feared the answer.
“Kael will name himself permanent Alpha. And he will declare Mira’s unborn child as heir to the pack.”
I stared at him.
No words.
Just pain.
Like a knife through my chest.
“He also plans to burn your father’s will. And destroy everything that belonged to him. The memory room, the old books... the photos... everything.”
I felt sick.
I bent forward and held my stomach, trying not to throw up. I had nothing left.
No place. No power. No past.
They were erasing me.
Erasing him.
My father.
Ronan came closer and sat beside me.
I didn’t cry this time.
I just breathed.
Slowly.
Then I stood up.
My knees were weak, but I forced them to hold. I looked Ronan straight in the eye.
“I want to fight.”
He nodded once. “Then we begin properly.”
—
The days that followed were hard. We woke before the sun.
We ran through the forest until my legs gave out. We trained with wooden sticks. With swords. With claws. He taught me how to dodge, how to read an opponent’s body, how to control my wolf.
I cried at night when he wasn’t looking.
Sometimes... he caught me.
Sometimes... he just held me.
He never said much about his past.
But once, after a long training session, when I collapsed into the grass and laughed because I had finally disarmed him, he looked at me for a long time and said:
“I used to dream of this.”
“Of what?”
He smiled softly.
“You. Standing. Fighting. Rising.” I didn’t answer.
I didn’t know how to.
But when he looked away, I reached for his hand. And he didn’t let go.