The cottage door opened with its familiar creak.
Maria looked up from the stove immediately, wooden spoon pausing mid-stir. Her eyes swept over Violet—taking in the dirt on her clothes, the way she moved with careful, deliberate steps, the exhaustion written across her small face.
"Littlebird," Maria said, concern threading through her voice. She set the spoon down and moved closer. "You look ready to collapse."
"I'm fine, Mama." Violet managed a tired smile. "Just... training was harder than I expected."
"Training." Maria's hands found Violet's shoulders, gently guiding her to sit at the table. "With who?"
Garrett, who'd entered behind Violet, nodded once. "Kari, a beastkin.
She's teaching Violet properly. Foundation first."
Maria's lips pressed into a thin line. She looked between them—her husband's calm acceptance and her daughter's obvious exhaustion.
Then she sighed and moved back to the stove. "Well, you'll need to eat then. Proper training requires proper food."
She ladled stew into a bowl—generous portions, steam rising with the scent of herbs and meat.
"Here." Maria set it before Violet with deliberate care. "Eat slowly. All of it."
Violet picked up the spoon with hands that trembled slightly from muscle fatigue. The first bite was heaven—warm, savory, filling.
Maria watched her eat for a moment, then returned to preparing more food. But Violet caught the small smile playing at her mother's lips.
"What?" Violet asked between bites.
"Nothing." Maria's smile widened slightly. "Just... you look determined. Focused." She glanced back. "It's good to see. You've been so worried and tense lately. This training—if it gives you something to work toward, something to build..." She trailed off, not finishing the thought.
But Violet understood.
Something to live for instead of just surviving.
"Thank you, Mama," Violet said quietly.
Maria's hand came up to brush hair from Violet's forehead—a gesture so familiar and gentle it made Violet's chest ache.
"Just promise me you won't push too hard," Maria said. "Your body is still recovering from... everything. If you need to rest, you rest. Understood?"
"Understood."
Garrett settled into his chair with a grunt. "Kari won't let her overdo it. She's harsh, but she's not stupid. She knows Violet's limits better than Violet does."
"That's not comforting," Maria muttered.
"It should be." Garrett reached for the bread. "Better a teacher who pushes you to your actual limit than one who lets you quit before you reach it."
They ate in comfortable silence after that. Violet finished her bowl and immediately felt drowsiness settling over her like a thick blanket.
Maria noticed. "Bed. Now."
"But—"
"Now, Littlebird."
Violet didn't have the energy to argue. She stood, swaying slightly, and made her way to her room.
The bed had never felt so welcoming. She barely managed to change into sleep clothes before collapsing onto the mattress.
Sleep claimed her within seconds.
***
Morning came too early.
Violet woke to sunlight streaming through her window and every muscle in her body screaming in protest.
She tried to sit up. Her abs cramped immediately.
"Gods," she hissed, falling back against the pillow.
Everything hurt. Her legs, her back, her shoulders—even muscles she hadn't known existed announced their presence through sharp, insistent pain.
This is what Kari meant by foundation building, Violet thought grimly.
She forced herself up slowly, wincing with each movement. Getting dressed took twice as long as normal.
When she finally emerged from her room, Maria took one look at her stiff movements and started laughing.
"Oh, sweetheart." Maria pressed a hand to her mouth, but couldn't quite hide her amusement. "You look like an old woman."
"I feel like an old woman," Violet grumbled, lowering herself into a chair with exaggerated care.
Garrett, already finishing his breakfast, made a sound that might have been a suppressed laugh. "First day soreness. It'll pass."
"When?"
"Few days."
Violet groaned.
Maria set a plate before her—eggs, bread, and strips of the bacon Garrett had cured. "Eat. Meat helps with recovery."
Violet ate mechanically, dreading the training session ahead.
After breakfast, she made her way back to the refuge. Each step was an exercise in willpower.
***
Kari was waiting in the same clearing from yesterday.
She took one look at Violet's stiff gait and smiled—sharp and knowing.
"Good morning. I see you're feeling yesterday's work."
"Everything hurts," Violet said flatly.
"Excellent. That means your muscles are learning." Kari gestured to the center of the clearing. "Today we focus on footwork and leg strength. The foundation of all movement."
Violet's stomach sank. "More standing still?"
"No." Kari's smile widened. "Today we move."
She demonstrated a basic stepping pattern—forward, side, back, return to center. Her movements were fluid, economical, each step placing her foot exactly where it needed to be.
"Your turn. Slow at first. Focus on precision, not speed."
Violet tried to copy the pattern. Her sore legs protested immediately, threatening to buckle.
"Keep your knees bent," Kari corrected. "Don't lock them. You're not a statue."
Violet adjusted, trying again. Better, but still clumsy.
"Again."
They repeated the pattern fifty times. By the twentieth repetition, Violet's thighs were burning. By the fortieth, they were screaming.
"Don't stop," Kari said, voice hard. "Push through it. Your body is stronger than your mind thinks."
Violet gritted her teeth and continued.
Finally, mercifully, Kari called a halt.
"Rest. Two minutes."
Violet collapsed to sitting immediately, breathing hard.
Kari remained standing, not even winded. "Pain is your body adapting. Growing. Becoming what you need it to be." She looked down at Violet. "Most people quit when they hit this wall. They decide comfort is worth more than strength."
"I'm not most people," Violet managed between breaths.
"No." Kari's expression softened fractionally. "You're not. That's why I agreed to teach you."
The two minutes passed too quickly.
"Up," Kari commanded. "Next exercise."
This one was worse.
Kari had her move through the stepping pattern while holding a squat—knees bent at ninety degrees, weight low, moving side to side without rising.
Violet's legs shook violently after thirty seconds.
"Hold," Kari said.
Violet held.
One minute. Two. Her vision started to blur at the edges.
"Hold."
Three minutes. Tears pricked her eyes from the effort.
"Enough. Stand."
Violet tried to straighten. Her legs gave out.
She caught herself on her hands, breathing in ragged gasps.
"Good," Kari said simply. "That's your current limit. Tomorrow, you'll hold for three minutes and ten seconds. The day after, three minutes and twenty."
She crouched beside Violet. "Building strength is just pushing your limit slightly further each day. Not by much. Just a little. But those little increases compound."
Violet nodded, not trusting her voice.
They continued for another hour.
By the end, Violet could barely walk. Kari had to help her back to the main clearing where Vael immediately rushed over.
"What did you do to her?" he demanded, taking in Violet's pale, sweaty face.
"Taught her," Kari said simply. "Same as I'll teach you, pup, if you're interested."
Vael's eyes widened. "Really?"
"After Violet's been training for a month. I only take students who prove they're serious." Kari's gaze returned to Violet. "Rest today. Tomorrow, same time."
She walked away, leaving Violet slumped against Vael.
"This is torture," Violet muttered.
"But you're doing it anyway," Vael observed.
"Yeah." Despite everything, Violet smiled slightly. "I am."
***
The walk home was slow. Painful.
But with each aching step, Violet felt something growing beneath the exhaustion.
Not just strength, though that would come.
Determination.
She'd spent too long being weak. Being helpless. Watching others fight while she hid.
Not anymore.
If building strength meant pain, she'd endure pain.
If it meant pushing past limits she thought absolute, she'd push.
Because next time—when Calla came, when the Winterbeast arrived, when threads of fate tried to strangle everything she love.
She wouldn't just survive.
She'd fight back.