Vale's POV
The knife flew straight at my face.
I dodged without thinking, my body twisting to the side so fast that the blade whistled past my ear and stuck in the wooden post behind me.
"Better," Dante said, picking up another knife from the table. "But you're still thinking too much. Trust your instincts."
We'd been training for three days in the safe house my father had provided. It was a huge mansion hidden deep in the mountains, with enough security to keep an army out. But despite all the guards and cameras, I didn't feel safe. Dr. Voss's words kept echoing in my head - others know what you are now.
"I don't understand why I need to learn this stuff," I complained, pulling the knife out of the wooden post. "I have bodyguards. My father has an entire army protecting me."
"Your bodyguards weren't there when Dr. Voss took you," Dante pointed out. "Your father's army didn't stop those men from finding our cabin. The only person you can truly count on to save you is yourself."
He was right, but that didn't make the training any less exhausting. For the past three days, Dante had been pushing me harder than I'd ever been pushed in my life. Knife throwing, hand-to-hand combat, gun training, escape techniques. My muscles ached and my hands were covered in blisters.
"Again," Dante said, raising another knife.
This time he threw it faster, aiming for my shoulder instead of my head. I spun away from it, but not quite fast enough. The blade nicked my upper arm, tearing my shirt and leaving a thin line of blood.
"Ow!" I pressed my hand against the cut. "That actually hit me!"
"In a real fight, that cut would have been six inches deeper," Dante said without sympathy. "And it would have been aimed at your heart."
I wanted to argue with him, but I could see the worry in his silver eyes. Ever since my father's men had rescued us from the warehouse, Dante had been different. More protective, more serious. Like he was afraid something terrible was going to happen.
"Let's try something else," he said, walking over to a rack of weapons. "Hand-to-hand combat."
"I don't know how to fight with my fists."
"We'll see about that." Dante moved to the center of the training room and gestured for me to join him. "Come at me. Try to hit me."
"I'm not going to attack you."
"Why not?"
"Because I might hurt you," I said, which made him laugh.
"Vale, I'm a werewolf. You're a twenty-three-year-old woman who weighs about a hundred pounds. You couldn't hurt me if you tried."
Something about the way he said it made me angry. Like I was weak and helpless. Like I was just a fragile little princess who needed constant protection.
"Fine," I said, stepping toward him. "But don't blame me if you get bruised."
I swung my fist at his face, putting all my frustration behind the punch. Dante easily caught my wrist and twisted my arm behind my back.
"Too slow," he said in my ear. "And you telegraphed your move. I knew what you were going to do before you did it."
He released me and stepped back. "Try again. This time, don't think. Just react."
I took a deep breath and tried to clear my mind. Instead of planning my attack, I let my body move on its own. My muscles seemed to know what to do without my brain telling them.
This time when I attacked, everything felt different.
My fist shot out faster than I expected, aimed at Dante's stomach instead of his face. When he moved to block it, I was already spinning away, my leg sweeping toward his ankles. He jumped over my kick, but I was ready for that too. My elbow came up toward his ribs while he was still in the air.
Dante barely managed to twist away from the strike. When he landed, there was surprise in his eyes.
"Where did you learn to fight like that?" he asked.
"I didn't learn it anywhere," I said, staring at my hands in confusion. "I just... knew what to do."
"Show me more."
For the next hour, we sparred back and forth across the training room. Every move I made felt natural and smooth, like I'd been practicing martial arts my whole life. I threw punches and kicks that should have been impossible for someone with no training. I dodged attacks that should have been too fast to see.
But the strangest part was that I was keeping up with Dante. He was a werewolf with superhuman speed and strength, but somehow I was matching him move for move.
"This doesn't make sense," I panted during a brief break. "Normal people can't fight like this."
"You're not normal people," Dante said grimly. "You never were."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Before he could answer, one of my father's guards appeared in the doorway.
"Miss Rossi," the man said formally. "Your father wants to see you in his office. Now."
I looked at Dante, who shrugged. "Go ahead. We can continue this later."
But as I started to walk toward the door, something made me turn back. Maybe it was the way the guard was standing, or the expression on his face. Something felt wrong.
"Actually," I said, "I think I'll stay here and keep training."
The guard's friendly mask slipped for just a second, and I saw something cold and dangerous underneath.
"I'm afraid I must insist," he said, his hand moving toward the gun under his jacket.
That's when I knew for certain he wasn't one of my father's men.
The fake guard drew his weapon, but I was already moving. My body reacted before my mind could catch up, faster than I'd ever moved in my life. One second I was standing by Dante, and the next I was across the room, my hand wrapped around the man's wrist.
I squeezed, and his bones cracked like twigs. The gun clattered to the floor as he screamed in pain.
"Vale," Dante's voice sounded strange behind me. "Let him go."
I released the man's wrist and stepped back, shocked by what I'd just done. The fake guard collapsed to his knees, cradling his broken arm.
"How many more of you are in the house?" I demanded.
"Six," he gasped through his pain. "Maybe more by now. They're coming for you, moon child. You can't hide forever."
More footsteps echoed in the hallway outside. Real guards this time, alerted by the man's screams. But as they rushed into the training room, I found myself calculating escape routes and attack strategies without even trying.
It was like having someone else's knowledge downloaded into my brain.
Dante walked over to where I stood, his silver eyes wide with amazement and fear.
"Vale," he said quietly, "you just moved from one side of this room to the other in less than a second. You crushed a man's wrist with your bare hand without even trying."
I stared down at my hands, which looked completely normal. "So?"
"So that's not human speed," Dante whispered. "That's not human strength. What exactly are you becoming?"
I opened my mouth to answer, but I had no idea what to say.
Because I was starting to think I might not be human at all.