After being locked away for days, the open air felt almost unreal. The maid who escorted me kept her head bowed the entire time, saying nothing except for the occasional "This way, my lady." I followed silently, my heart hammering in my chest, unsure if it was from excitement or nerves.
The path stretched through the courtyard, cobblestones slick with dew, leading toward the training field at the far end. The clang of metal and gruff shouts from warriors filled the air, breaking the eerie quiet I'd grown used to inside those four suffocating walls.
When we reached the training field, I stopped in my tracks. Ryker was in the center, his back to me, broad shoulders tense as he swung a wooden sword effortlessly. His tunic clung to his body, the fabric damp with sweat. The long scar that cut across his cheek caught the morning light. It should have ruined his beauty, but instead, it made him more striking.
"Alpha Vale is waiting, my lady." The maid curtsied before turning to leave.
I stood there for a full minute, just watching him swing his sword around. I knew that he was aware of my presence so I said nothing, waiting for him to be done. It didn't take long. He stopped and turned to look at me.
"Selene," he said, his voice low, smooth, and warm. "You're here."
"Yes," for some reason, I could not stop myself from smiling. Whether it was from happiness at seeing a familiar face again, I don't know.
"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting. There's been trouble in the southern borders. Rogues attacked one of our hunting parties." His expression darkened briefly, then he sighed. "But I promised you training, and I keep my word."
Fighting with rogues? That immediately piqued my interest. I was just about to ask him what went down but he bent, picked up a wooden sword and threw it at me. I flinched. gasping in surprise before I fumbled to catch it. The wooden sword wobbled in my grip, nearly slipping from my hands but I refused to let it fall.
Ryker chuckled, the sound deep and rich. "No experience at all, I see."
"None," I admitted, cheeks warming as I tightened my hold on the sword.
I was a rogue so my pack had no interest in training me for war. I could not hold my own against my sisters who were regular wolves so how would I be able to defend my pack from the enemy warriors? No matter what Ryker had said about how I shouldn't worry, I was worried. It was only a matter of time before he got tired of training me. I shook myself to rid myself of my negative thoughts. No matter what, I would give this my all.
"That's all right," he said, stepping closer to me until the heat of his body brushed against me. "Everyone starts somewhere. I'll be patient."
He began circling me, his gaze assessing. I felt the faint brush of his arm as he adjusted the way I was holding the sword. His fingers brushed mine, warm, calloused and a jolt of awareness ran up my spine.
"Grip it tighter," he murmured near my ear. "You're holding it like a feather."
I tried, swallowing hard. "Like this?"
He studied my hands, then gave a soft hum of approval before coming to stand before me. "Better. Now, widen your stance."
I did as he said, nearly stumbling back. His hand shot out instantly, catching my waist to steady me. The contact froze me in place. His palm was large, solid, the heat of it burning through the thin fabric of my gown.
My breath hitched. "Sorry," I whispered.
"Don't apologize for mistakes." His voice dropped lower, quieter. "Everyone makes mistakes in the beginning."
He didn't step away immediately, and I found myself staring up at him. The mismatched colors of his eyes held me captive. The blue one was piercing, sharp as winter ice; the green was softer.
He finally stepped back, causing a sigh of relive to rush out of me.
"Now, swing," he instructed, motioning toward a straw dummy set up nearby.
I obeyed, or tried to. Swinging the sword was harder than I'd expected, and my arms trembled from the strain.My swing came out clumsy, missing the target entirely.
Ryker chuckled, not mockingly but with quiet amusement. "You'll need to put your shoulder into it, not your arms. Like this."
Before I could respond, he moved behind me, his chest brushing my back as he adjusted my posture. His hand slid down my arm, guiding the motion. I could feel every breath he took, every subtle shift of muscle against me. The world seemed to shrink until all that existed was his voice, his hands, his scent of smoke, pine, and something darker that made my thoughts blur.
Why was I noticing all of these things? I've never noticed things like this in a man before. This was odd but not unwelcoming.
"Now try," he whispered, breaking me out of my musings.
I swung again, this time striking the dummy with a dull thud.
A smile tugged at his lips. "Better."
Pride flickered through me, fleeting but real. "Maybe I'm not as hopeless as I thought."
He tilted his head, that faint smile deepening. "You're far from hopeless, Selene. You just need to believe that."
The way he said my name made my stomach tighten. I quickly looked away, pretending to adjust my stance. "So… the fight you mentioned earlier," I said, hoping to sound casual. I needed a distraction from why I was feeling. "What happened?"
His expression shifted. "A skirmish near the western border. Some of Kael's scouts crossed over."
My pulse quickened as fear slithered down my spine. "Kael?" The name alone made my throat tighten. I hope I've not brought problems to Ryker's pack by coming here with him.
Ryker's gaze softened, though his tone stayed steady. "Don't worry. They didn't get far. My men handled it."
I wanted to ask more, but the look in his eyes warned me to let it go. Instead, I focused on swinging again, while ignoring how his proximity made it almost impossible to think straight.
Hours passed or maybe it was less. Between his instructions and the sounds of our movements, the world outside the field ceased to exist. The cold air turned warm with the rhythm of our breathing and the soft sound of wood striking straw. Every correction he made brought him close enough that I could feel his breath on my neck, hear the low hum of his approval when I managed a decent strike.
At one point, he brushed a loose strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering longer than necessary. My heart betrayed me, leaping into my throat and I stared at him with a dazed expression.
"Focus, little omega," he said softly, amusement flickering in his tone. "You're letting me distract you."
I shot him a glare, though my lips betrayed me with a small, nervous smile. "Maybe you're doing it on purpose."
He raised a brow, stepping back with a faint smirk. "Maybe I am."
The air between us crackled and I forced myself to look away, gripping the sword tighter. "Then I'll have to learn faster," I said, swinging again with renewed focus.
He watched me quietly, arms crossed, the ghost of a smile still on his face. "Good. That's the spirit."
When the lesson finally ended, my arms ached, my palms were raw, and my heart felt lighter than when I'd started. And for the first time since leaving Silver Moon, I felt alive.
Ryker handed me a small cloth to wipe the sweat from my face. "You did well today," he said. "Better than I expected."
I took the cloth, avoiding his gaze. "Thank you. For teaching me."
He inclined his head slightly. "We'll continue tomorrow. Same time."
As I turned to leave, I felt his gaze on me and I told myself not to much think about it, but the thought followed me long after I'd left the field.
And for reasons I couldn't yet explain, I found myself already looking forward to the next lesson.