The next morning, the silence in the bunker was heavy and strained.
Emin had spent the hours pacing. His internal conflict—rage fighting against shame—was a vibration in the very stone.
Ravenna found him near the main tunnel entrance. He was doing aggressive, punishing push-ups in the grime. A force of raw, frustrated power.
She felt the familiar, hot wave of his rage through the Mate Bond. Now, it was tinged with a confusing, bitter undercurrent of vulnerability.
He didn't look up when she approached.
"We start now," he grated out, rising in one fluid, terrifying movement.
"Your chaotic energy is based on physical output. If your body isn't disciplined, your magic will kill you."
"And how are you going to train me without ordering me around?" Ravenna challenged.
She held his furious gaze. "Alpha command won't work here."
Emin's jaw locked. He hated the truce. Hated being challenged.
"We will train the Lycan way," he snapped. "Brutal, fast, and driven by endurance. If you quit, I will know you are too weak for this world. And I will take the consequences of the bond."
He guided her out to a dry, empty field above the outpost. He pointed toward a distant cluster of jagged rocks.
"Run," Emin commanded. "Run until your lungs burn. Run until you forget why you're running. Forget the Warlock. Forget the Rogue. Forget the Mate Bond. Just run."
Ravenna started instantly. Pushing her body as hard as she could.
She was strong. But Emin was a machine.
He ran effortlessly beside her. A relentless shadow.
Her body screamed in pain as the harsh morning sun beat down. The Lycan side demanded speed. The Witch side fought against the physical pain.
I can't do this. The thought was a wheezing gasp. I'm going to collapse.
As she slowed, desperate for air, the chaos in her core began to boil. The air around her shoulders grew hot. A chaotic flare was imminent.
"No!" Emin roared.
He cut across her path, forcing her to stop dead.
"Control that noise, Hybrid! Focus on the pain in your legs, not the fear in your mind!"
He stepped closer. His eyes intense. The Mate Bond pulled them tight.
"You think you can't push harder? You're wrong."
His voice dropped slightly, hard and flat. A raw edge.
"When I was ten, I ran until my lungs bled. My father made me run again the next day. Lycans don't stop. We don't quit. We survive through the pain."
He grabbed her arm. Not possessively, but firmly, to ground her.
"That discipline, that willingness to endure, is the foundation of the Lycan spirit. If you don't build that foundation, your magic will blow up the house."
He pushed her into a series of grueling sprints. Forcing her to focus only on the physical effort.
They stopped only when Ravenna was physically spent. Lying panting on the gritty earth. Emin was barely breathing hard.
"Why?" Ravenna gasped out, pushing herself onto her elbows. "Why the cruelty? It feels like punishment."
Emin looked away. Toward the hazy outline of the Ironwood Wilds. His features, usually set in rigid Alpha dominance, softened just enough to reveal an old scar near his temple.
"My father was not merciful," Emin said, his voice flat. A massive breach in the Alpha armor.
"Being the Alpha is not a reward, Ravenna. It's a sacrifice. They taught me that the Pack's safety needed my total, steady strength. No fear, no weakness, and no chaos."
He finally looked at her. His golden eyes were filled with the cost of that sacrifice.
"The discipline, the hierarchy—it's what keeps us from tearing each other apart. It's what keeps the Warlocks from binding us. I cannot afford chaos in my Pack. I cannot afford chaos in my Mate. That is the Alpha's price."
"And you think forcing me to submit will work?" Ravenna challenged.
"I think forcing you to endure will work," Emin corrected sharply. "Submission is the acceptance of a necessary order. Endurance is the strength to carry its weight. If you can face the exhaustion, you can control the chaos. They are not the same thing."
A shadow detached itself from the rocks above. Asher.
He moved down the slope. His usual easy walk carried a hint of contained anger.
"That's enough, Alpha," Asher said, crossing his arms. "She's at her limit. You're going to break her, not train her."
Emin instantly bristled. Protective anger surged. "Stay out of this, Rogue. This is Alpha business. You teach evasion; I teach discipline."
"You teach how to take a punch and say 'thank you'," Asher countered, stepping between them. "I teach how to not be there when the punch is thrown. We agreed: no forced control."
"This isn't control, it's foundation!" Emin shot back. "Something you wouldn't understand, having sworn allegiance to nothing but your own shadow."
Asher's expression turned to ice.
"Is that what you see? Because the moment I see your precious Mate, I see a woman who can't breathe because you're shouting at her with your pride. You call this discipline? It looks like fear."
The tension was instant and seemly dangerous. Emin prepared to shift. Claws clenching. Asher drew a dagger, ready to use speed against mass.
A scream of pain erupted from the Mate Bond.
The agony of their clash—Emin's rage over his territory versus Asher's calculated self-protection—was tearing Ravenna apart.
She surged to her feet. Planting herself directly between the two men.
"Stop!" Ravenna yelled.
The force of the word didn't come from her lungs. It came from her core.
The raw, silver-black energy that was her chaos flared outward in a sudden, sharp, painful clamp.
It wrapped around both men. Squeezing them. Forcing their physical rage and mental focus to collapse inward.
Emin gasped. Clutching his chest. The fury drained instantly, replaced by momentary, shared weakness.
Asher winced, dropping his dagger as the binding energy hit him.
"The rules," Ravenna panted, her eyes fixed on Emin.
"You follow my rules, or you suffer the consequences of my chaos. If you fight each other, I will collapse the ground beneath your feet."
Emin looked at the terrifying power radiating from her. He looked at the cold, satisfied triumph in Asher's eyes.
He knew the Hybrid was capable of the destruction she promised.
Slowly and painfully. Emin lowered his hands.
"Fine," he grated out. The word was thick with defeat. "We adhere to the truce. But the training continues. She needs it."
"Then train her," Asher said, retrieving his dagger. His voice was dangerously calm. "But remember the price you pay for pushing too hard. It's not just her that feels it anymore."
Asher turned and walked away.
Ravenna stepped back. The chaotic energy subsided. She knew she had just won a crucial battle.
But the physical cost had been immense.
If I use my power to stop them, I drain myself. But if I don't, they'll tear the world apart.
She looked toward the hidden bunker. Damaris was waiting.
He was the next impossible lesson.