Aderyn Pov

The cool morning air nipped at my skin as Bell and I walked toward the gym. Bell's excitement was practically contagious, her steps light and quick as she bounced beside me, clad in a pink tank top and black slacks. She looked like she was ready to conquer the world or at least the gym. I couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm, even though my own feelings were a mix of confusion and apprehension.

"Why are you dressed like that?" I asked, glancing down at her outfit. "I thought that the Alpha guy wanted only me to train."

Bell grinned and clapped her hands together. "I know, but I want to join in too! It'll be fun, don't you think?"

Her excitement was almost childlike, and I chuckled despite myself. "Yeah, sure, why not?"

As we approached the gym, the sounds from within grew louder—thuds of punches landing on heavy bags, the squeak of shoes against the floor, and shouts of exertion. My heartbeat quickened with a strange mix of anticipation and dread. When we finally pushed open the door, the first thing that caught my eye was the large ring dominating the center of the room. Two hulking men were inside, their bodies moving with a brutal kind of grace as they sparred. They weren't just fighting; they were snarling, the guttural sounds echoing off the walls. My brow furrowed. Those sounds—they weren't normal. They reminded me too much of something I didn't want to think about.

Why the hell are they growling like dogs?

Before I could dwell on it, a voice cut through the din. "Okay, that's enough!" A man with a French beard and tattooed arms barked the command, and the two fighters immediately halted, bowing before leaping out of the ring.

Bell nudged me, practically buzzing with impatience. "C'mon, let's go!"

"Relax, Tiger," I muttered, though I followed her toward the center of the room. As we walked, I could feel the weight of stares pressing down on me. The room had gone eerily quiet, every pair of eyes locked on us.

"That's the Luna, right?" I heard someone whisper.

"What's she doing here?" another voice responded.

"Shh, keep quiet. Didn't the Alpha say—"

The rest of the sentence faded into the background as I focused on the man standing before us. He was tall—really tall—maybe around 6'4". The kind of guy who looked like he could snap someone's neck with minimal effort. Intimidating, sure, but I'd seen worse. Much worse.

I composed myself, plastering on a polite smile as I extended my hand. To my surprise, he smiled back and shook it, his grip firm but not crushing.

"Hello, Luna," he said, his voice gruff but respectful. "I'm your trainer."

I pulled my hand back, shaking my head slightly. "My name's Aderyn, not Luna."

He hesitated, glancing at Bell, who merely shrugged. "Alright, Aderyn. I'm Train. That's what everyone calls me around here."

"Train, huh?" I repeated, a small smile tugging at my lips. "Well, you can call me Adie. Everyone does."

"Adie it is," he replied, nodding. "Now, let's get you inside the ring and not waste any more time."

I glanced at the ring, a pit forming in my stomach. This was the last place I wanted to be, but I couldn't back out now. Not with everyone watching. I climbed into the ring, the ropes creaking slightly under my weight, and turned to face Train.

"So," he began, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Do you know anything about fighting?"

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, I bit down on the inside of my lip, unsure of how to respond. Finally, I shook my head. "Not really."

Train sighed, but it was more resigned than frustrated. "That's fine. We'll start with the basics. First, defense. If you ever find yourself weaker than your opponent, defense is what'll save you."

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Defense? Seriously? I've always been more of an attacker, someone who strikes first and asks questions later. But I kept my mouth shut, nodding as Train continued his explanation.

"Adie! Are you listening?" he asked sharply, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Yeah, sorry," I muttered, offering a sheepish smile. I needed to pay attention, but the idea of focusing on defense was almost laughable to me. Why defend when you could just knock someone out first?

"Alright, let's start," Train said, stepping closer to me. "Think of me as your enemy. What would you do if I attacked you?"

I blinked at him, the question throwing me off. "Uh... run?" I offered hesitantly.

The gym erupted in laughter, the sound grating on my nerves. I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at the amused faces around me.

Train chuckled, but there was no malice in it. "Running is an option, sure. But you won't always have that luxury. Sometimes, you'll have to fight."

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "Fine. Let's do this."

Train began to walk me through the basics, but my attention wavered. My eyes drifted to where Bell was sparring with someone her size, moving with a surprising grace and skill. I had no idea she could fight like that.

"Adie, concentrate," Train's voice cut through my thoughts again, and I quickly turned my attention back to him.

"Sorry," I mumbled, trying to focus on what he was saying. It was boring, sure, but I had to admit, Train was good at what he did. He didn't push too hard, and he explained things clearly, making sure I understood each step.

"Okay, let's see what you'd do if someone grabbed your wrist," he said, stepping closer and taking hold of my wrist. His grip was firm but not painful. "If someone holds you like this, here's how you—"

Before he could finish, I instinctively twisted his wrist, forcing him to release me. The movement was smooth, almost automatic, and for a moment, Train just stared at me, wide-eyed.

"How did you...?" he trailed off, clearly shocked.

"Uh... my PE teacher taught me that trick in school," I lied quickly, avoiding his gaze. I could feel his eyes on me, scrutinizing every detail.

"Is everything going fine over here?" a familiar voice interrupted, and I turned to see Dylan standing by the door, Blake and Cole flanking him.

Dylan's gaze swept over me, his expression unreadable as he approached the ring. "Alpha," Train murmured, bowing his head slightly. The sudden shift in his demeanor was almost comical.

Dylan didn't respond immediately. Instead, he turned to Train, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Is she learning?"

Train hesitated, glancing at me before answering. "She's... struggling to stay focused."

Dylan's gaze locked onto mine, and I felt a flicker of irritation at his scrutiny. "Miss Brookes," he began, his tone carrying a warning. "This training is important. If you don't cooperate, I'll have no choice but to assign bodyguards to you."

I bristled at his words, crossing my arms defiantly. "I'm trying, okay? I just... I'm not used to this."

Dylan sighed, rubbing his forehead in exasperation. "Fine. But I expect you to take this seriously."

With that, he turned to the others, barking orders for everyone to leave the gym. Within moments, the room emptied, leaving just me and Train in the large space. The silence was almost suffocating, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance at Dylan's overprotectiveness.

"Miss Brookes," Train said quietly, drawing my attention back to him. "I know you think this is unnecessary, but trust me, it's for your own good."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "I know, I know. I'll focus, I promise."

Train nodded, though I could still see the suspicion in his eyes. "Alright. Let's continue."

We went through more drills, but it was clear that something had shifted. Train was watching me more closely, his instructions a bit more pointed. It was like he was testing me, trying to figure out if there was more to me than I was letting on.

And then it happened.

Out of nowhere, Train threw a punch at me—fast and precise. But before I even had time to think, my body reacted. My arm shot up, blocking the punch with a force that surprised even me. The impact reverberated through my arm, but I didn't flinch. I held his gaze, my breath coming in steady, controlled breaths.

For a moment, neither of us moved. Train's eyes were wide with shock, his mouth slightly open as he stared at me. "I knew it," he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to me.

I released his fist, stepping back slightly. "Knew what?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual, but I could feel the tension coiling in my chest.

Train didn't answer immediately. Instead, he studied me, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to see right through me.

"That wasn't just a reflex," he finally said, his tone low and serious. "You've had training before, haven't you?"

I swallowed hard, my mind racing for a plausible excuse. "I... I don't know what you're talking about," I said, forcing a laugh that sounded hollow even to my ears.

Train wasn't buying it. "Listen, Adie," he said quietly, taking a step closer. "I've trained a lot of people, and I know when someone's lying. You've got skills—skills that most people don't learn overnight. So tell me, who taught you?"

I felt my pulse quicken, a cold sweat breaking out on my skin. This was bad—really bad. I couldn't let him dig any deeper, couldn't let him find out the truth.

"It's just muscle memory," I insisted, forcing a confident tone. "My body just reacted on instinct. My PE teacher in school showed us some basic self-defense moves."

His eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced. "Your PE teacher didn't train you to block a punch like that," he said, his voice edged with suspicion.

I loosened my grip on his fist and shrugged. "It was a reflex. What's the big deal?" I replied nonchalantly, inspecting my nails as if bored by the conversation.

"Aderyn, who are you really?" he pressed, his gaze intense.

I sighed, rolling my shoulders back as if the question was more tedious than threatening. 

"Just someone not worth your interest," I replied, meeting his gaze with a calm indifference and a genuine smile of my own.