Chapter 29:Learning to Bleed

An hour later I stood outside the underground training hall.

My hair was tied back. My sleeves rolled up.

My stomach tight with anticipation.

When I pushed the door open, the first thing I noticed was the smell of dust and iron.

The hall was carved directly into the stone beneath the fortress. Torches burned along the walls, casting uneven shadows across the circular sparring ring at the center.

Private. Hidden. No audience.

It’s was my first time stepping into training ground since I’m wolfless

Mira stood in the middle of the room.

She was tall, broad-shouldered, with a scar cutting across one cheek.

Her left hand was missing two fingers.

Her eyes landed on me the moment I stepped inside.

She didn’t smile. Didn’t introduce herself.

Just pointed toward the circle.

"Show me what you can do."

I stepped into the ring.

Raised my hands in what I hoped resembled a defensive stance.

Mira moved. I didn’t even see the strike coming.

Her fist slammed into my ribs hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs.

Pain exploded through my side as I stumbled backward, coughing.

"Again," she said.

I barely had time to straighten before her foot swept under my legs.

The world tilted. Stone slammed into my back.

My vision blurred for a moment.

"Again."

I pushed myself upright, ribs screaming.

This time I managed two seconds before she dropped me again.

Her elbow caught my jaw. Stars burst behind my eyes.

I fell again.

"Again."

The pattern continued.

Ribs. Shoulder. Stomach.

Each strike precise. Controlled. Painful.

By the fourth fall I stayed down.

My chest heaved against the cold stone.

"Get up," Mira said.

I groaned.

"Why?" I asked, staring at the ceiling. "So you can knock me down again?"

"Yes."

I turned my head toward her. "What’s the point?"

Mira crouched beside me. Her voice was calm.

"The point is that you get up."

I frowned.

"Every time," she continued. "No matter how much it hurts."

She stood and extended a hand. I stared at it.

Then I grabbed it and let her pull me back to my feet.

"Again."

This time I braced myself better.

I lasted three seconds before she knocked me down.

It didn’t feel like a victory. But somehow... it was.

----

The next hour blurred into something brutal and exhausting.

I lost count of how many times I hit the ground.

Ten. Twenty. More.

Each time I pushed myself up a little faster.

Each time my muscles burned harder.

Mira never praised me. Never insulted me either.

She just kept attacking.

Eventually sweat soaked my shirt and my breathing turned ragged.

That was when the blade came out.

Not a real sword. A training knife. Sharp enough to matter.

I barely saw the flash of metal before pain sliced across my forearm.

I hissed as blood welled instantly.

The cut was deep.

Deep enough that my body reacted automatically.

My healing magic surged beneath my skin.

Ready. One touch, that was all it would take.

The pain would disappear. The wound would close. One scar.

Mira watched me.

"Need help?" she said.

I shook my head. Blood dripped onto the stone floor.

"You’re bleeding everywhere," she pointed out.

"I noticed."

For a long moment she said nothing.

Then she tossed a strip of cloth toward me.

"Wrap it."

I tied the cloth around my arm. The blood soaked through almost immediately.

Mira watched carefully.

"Can you continue?" she asked.

"Yes." 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

"Liar."

"Yes," I admitted.

"But I’ll do it anyway."

For the first time since we started training...

Mira smiled. It wasn’t a friendly smile.

It looked more like a predator recognizing something interesting.

"Good," she said.

"Because we’re just getting started."

--

By the time training ended my entire body felt like it had been dragged across broken stone.

Bruises bloomed across my arms. My ribs ached with every breath.

The cut on my arm throbbed steadily beneath the soaked cloth.

And still... I hadn’t healed it.

Somewhere deep inside my chest, something stirred faintly.

Not pain. Not magic. Something else.

My wolf. She wasn’t awake.

Not even close.

But for the briefest moment...

I felt her. Watching. Waiting.

And then the feeling vanished.

---

That night I stood in front of the mirror in our chambers.

The bruises looked worse under lamplight.

Purple fading into dark blue along my ribs.

My jaw slightly swollen. My forearm wrapped in blood-stained cloth. I looked like someone had tried to kill me.

Maybe that was the point.

I touched the edge of the wound lightly.

My magic surged again, eager to fix it. I pushed the sensation down.

"Fourteen scars left," I murmured to my reflection. "This wasn’t worth one."

A knock sounded at the door. Then Kael walked in without waiting. His eyes went straight to my arm.

"You’re hurt."

"It’s bearable."

He grabbed my wrist gently, turning my arm to inspect the wound.

His expression darkened. "This needs stitches."

"I’ll manage."

"I’ll do it."

That surprised me.

"You?" I asked.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because you chose pain over wasting a scar."

He released my arm and moved to the small cabinet near the desk, pulling out alcohol, thread, and a needle.

"That’s strategic."

I sat on the edge of the bed while he prepared the supplies.

When he returned he knelt in front of me.

"This will hurt," he said.

I gave a tired laugh. "Everything hurts."

He held my gaze for a second. "Then what’s one more pain?"

I didn’t answer.

The alcohol burned when he cleaned the wound.

I clenched my teeth but stayed still while he began stitching.

His hands were steady. Careful. Precise.

"You’ve done this before," I said quietly.

"Many times."

"On yourself?"

"Sometimes."

I watched his face while he worked.

Focused. Concentrated. Not cold like usual.

Just... present.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked.

"Because you need it."

"That sounds like protection."

He tied off the final stitch.

"No," he said quietly. "That’s survival."

He cut the thread and wrapped a clean bandage around my arm.

"Protection means shielding you from harm," he continued.

"Survival means preparing you to face it."

I thought about that.

"You could’ve called a healer."

"Yes."

"Why didn’t you?"

He stood.

"I can still handle this much. Besides you don’t want attention, do you?"

I nodded slowly. That made sense.

Kael moved toward the door but stopped before leaving.

"Don’t heal those bruises," he said.

I frowned. "What?"

"Let them stay."

"Why?"

He glanced back at me.

And something in my chest pulled tight.

The bond flared suddenly, sharp, unexpected.

Before I could react, Kael crossed the space between us.

His hand caught my jaw. His mouth crashed against mine.

The kiss wasn’t gentle.

It was brief. Fierce. Almost angry.

Then he stepped back like nothing had happened

Then he left.

I sat there quietly for a long time afterward.

My arm throbbed. My ribs ached. My entire body screamed for rest.

But the bruises didn’t feel like weakness.

They felt like proof. Proof that I was changing. Outside the window, something moved.

A raven perched on the stone ledge.

Watching. Still.

Its eyes gleamed faintly in the dark.

Then it spread its wings and took flight.

Straight toward the eastern tower.

A knock interrupted the quiet.

Before I could answer, the door opened and Elera stepped inside.

"My Lady—"

Her voice stopped mid-sentence.

Her eyes widened as she took in the bruises along my arms, the swelling at my jaw, the bandage wrapped around my forearm.

"By the Moon..." she breathed, rushing toward me. "What happened to you?"

"It’s nothing," I said.

"That is not nothing," Elera protested, hovering near my arm like she wanted to touch it but was afraid to make it worse.

"You look like someone threw you down a mountain."

"Just training."

Her expression shifted instantly from worry to disbelief.

"Training?" she repeated. "Since when?"

"Since today."

"And you didn’t take me with you?" she demanded.

I raised an eyebrow. "You would’ve tried to stop it."

"Of course I would’ve!" she snapped. "Look at you!"

"I knew it," I said dryly.

Elera sighed dramatically, then gestured toward my bandaged arm.

"At least let me bring a healer."

"No."

"But—"

"Kael already stitched it."

She froze.

"The Alpha did?" she asked slowly.

"Yes."

Elera’s expression melted into something suspiciously delighted.

"Oh," she said, drawing the word out with a grin. "See? I told you. He only looks cold."

"Don’t start," I warned.

She waved a hand dismissively, though the smile stayed.

"Fine, fine. I’ll behave."

I studied her for a moment.

"You didn’t come here just to lecture me about bruises," I said.

Elera blinked.

"Oh—right."

"What is it?"

She hesitated.

Just long enough to make my stomach tighten.

"I saw someone arrive tonight," she said carefully.

"Who?"

"Your sister."

My heart skipped. "Ivy?"

Elera nodded.

"At this hour?" I frowned. "Why would she—"

Elera shifted uncomfortably.

"She didn’t come to your chambers."

A cold feeling crept into my chest.

"Then where did she go?"

Elera swallowed.

"The eastern tower."

For a moment the room felt too quiet.

"The eastern tower..." I repeated slowly.

Elera nodded again.

"Yes."

My mind raced through the fortress layout.

Through the people who lived there.

Through the one person who controlled that entire wing.

My stomach dropped.

"Seraphina’s tower?" I asked.

Elera didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.

Her silence said enough.

And suddenly the bruises covering my body felt like the least dangerous thing waiting for me tonight.