Chapter 4
Liana woke to the faint scent of cedar and the soft hum of the estate. Her muscles ached, every fiber tense from yesterday's chase—a day that had felt like a lifetime compressed into a few frantic hours. She sat up, rubbing her face, realizing the weight of Damian's presence behind her.
"You're awake," he said, his voice low and resonating in the quiet room. "Good. We don't have much time. Forty-eight hours won't wait for you to catch your breath."
Liana groaned. "I'm not a soldier. I'm not some warrior you can train."
"You're not just a warrior. You're something else," he said, his eyes sharp and unreadable. "And it's time you start accepting that."
He gestured for her to follow, and though every instinct screamed at her to run, she obeyed. Fear had no place here—only survival, and perhaps something darker she didn't want to admit.
The training area was an open courtyard bathed in morning light, raindrops glinting on the cobblestones. Several pack members stood at attention, their eyes scanning her with subtle curiosity. They were warriors—tall, imposing, and silent. Under their gaze, Liana felt like prey being watched by predators.
"Stay close," Damian commanded. "Your first lesson: control."
Her fists clenched. The pulse of energy she had felt flicker during the chase surged again—wild and raw—making her fingers twitch involuntarily. She tried to suppress it, but the excitement and fear made it impossible.
Damian noticed immediately. His eyes flicked to her hands—sharp and calculating. "You felt it again, didn't you?"
Liana pulled her hands back, trembling. "I… I can't control it. I don't know what it is."
"You will," Damian said, stepping closer. The heat from his body was nearly suffocating, pressing her into herself. "You're stronger than you think—stronger than anyone realizes. But control is key. Show too much, and you'll put yourself at risk."
Her heart raced. "You… you're not scared of me?"
He smiled slowly, a predatory curl of his lips. "Fear isn't useful. Respect is. You'll earn that respect—one way or another."
A pack member stepped forward, carrying a weighted training dummy. "Damian, shall I begin?"
He nodded. "Yes. Test her, but do not harm her. She needs to understand the stakes."
Liana's stomach knotted. She gripped the staff handed to her, every muscle tensed. The dummy lunged at her. Reflexively, her hands flared with energy, sending it spinning across the courtyard. Sparks danced like liquid fire from her fingertips.
Damian's dark eyes narrowed in approval. "Good. But control, Liana. Strength without control is dangerous—to you and to others."
Her chest heaved as adrenaline and fear intertwined. She had never felt power like this—raw, surging, alive. Yet every glance from Damian and every commanding tone reminded her that she wasn't just learning to fight; she was learning to survive under an Alpha who refused to let her go.
Hours passed in a blur of training—dodging, blocking, unleashing controlled energy bursts, and following Damian's orders with precision. The pack members observed silently, occasionally offering corrections or encouragement. Every movement, every mistake, and every spark of her energy was under scrutiny.
At one point, a pack member feinted an attack, and Liana reacted instinctively, sending a controlled wave of energy toward him. The man stumbled back, unhurt but wide-eyed. Damian's hand was on her shoulder immediately.
"Power without discipline can kill you-or those around you," he said, his voice low but cutting like steel. "Focus. You must learn to channel it, or it will destroy everything you care about."
Her pulse raced-not just from exertion, but from the proximity of him, the way his hand lingered briefly on her shoulder-his possessive, grounding presence that she both hated and couldn't deny.
"Now," Damian barked, pulling her back into stance, "combat training. You will move faster, strike harder, and channel your energy with precision. Every moment counts."
The pack member swung at her, faster this time. Liana ducked and pivoted, instinct guiding her. Sparks flew from her fingertips again, and she felt a strange exhilaration at the surge. Damian was beside her in an instant, correcting her stance, guiding her strikes, and sometimes letting his dominance push her beyond her limits.
A bead of sweat rolled down her temple as she threw a controlled energy blast, striking the dummy with precision. She glanced at Damian, breathless. His dark eyes glimmered with approval and something else-something that made her stomach twist.
"You adapt quickly," he murmured, his voice dangerously soft. "Most would have faltered by now. But you… You're learning. And that scares me."