Chapter 219
Lynette's POV
I stood in the center of the training field. Afternoon sun beat down on my shoulders. Warm. Almost hot.
The line of guards stared at me. Some curious. Most skeptical.
I could read it in their faces. The way they shifted their weight. Crossed their arms.
A woman? Training us?
I'd heard it all before.
"So?" I said again. Kept my voice level. "Who wants to try?"
Movement at the front of the line. A massive guard stepped forward. Shaved head. Thick neck. Arms like tree trunks.
He was easily six-foot-four. Maybe two-fifty. All muscle.
"I'll give it a shot," he said. His voice was deep. Rough.
He looked me up and down. Not hiding his doubt.
"Hope you don't disappoint Alpha Kael," he added.
I didn't respond. Just shifted my stance. Feet shoulder-width apart. Weight balanced.
My body felt good. Strong. This was my real form now. Alpha blood. Alpha strength.
I'd missed this.
The guard rolled his shoulders. Cracked his knuckles. Making a show of it.
I watched his movements. The way he distributed his weight. Heavy on the front foot. Shoulders too tense.
Power fighter. Probably relied on size and strength. Speed would be his weakness.
He came at me fast. Faster than I expected for his size.
Right hook aimed at my head.
I slipped left. His fist cut through empty air.
He recovered quick. Threw a left jab.
I ducked under it. Stepped inside his guard.
His eyes widened. Realized too late he'd overextended.
I drove my palm into his solar plexus. Not full strength. Didn't need it.
Air rushed out of his lungs. His face went red.
While he was still gasping I swept his front leg. Used his own momentum against him.
He went down hard. One knee hit the dirt.
I stepped back. Gave him space.
Three moves. Maybe five seconds total.
The guard stayed down. One hand on his chest. Still trying to catch his breath.
He looked up at me. Shock written all over his face.
I met his eyes. Kept my expression neutral.
"You're strong," I said. "But you telegraph your punches. And you commit too much weight forward."
He nodded slowly. Pushed himself to his feet.
No more doubt in his eyes now. Just respect.
He stepped back to the line.
I turned to face the others. "Next?"
Silence for a moment.
Then two guards stepped forward together. One tall and lean. The other shorter. Stockier.
The tall one spoke. "We'll go together. If that's alright."
I raised an eyebrow. "Two on one?"
"You did say anyone who wants to test you," the stocky one said.
Fair point.
"Alright," I said. "Come on."
They spread out. Flanking me on both sides.
Smart. They were trying to divide my attention.
I watched them both. Peripheral vision tracking movement.
The tall one moved first. Quick jab from my right.
I blocked. But it was a feint.
The stocky one rushed from my left. Low tackle.
I pivoted. Let him pass under me. His shoulder caught air instead of my waist.
The tall one was already moving. Following up with a high kick.
I caught his ankle. Twisted.
He spun. Hit the ground face-first.
The stocky one recovered. Charged again.
This time I didn't dodge. Met him head-on.
Grabbed his wrist as he swung. Used his momentum. Hip throw.
He flipped. Landed hard on his back.
I kept hold of his wrist. Applied pressure to the joint. Not enough to injure. Just enough to immobilize.
"Yield?" I asked.
He tapped the ground twice. "Yield."
I released him. Turned to the tall one.
He was already getting up. Breathing hard.
"I'm good," he said quickly. Hands raised. "I'm done."
I nodded.
The whole thing took maybe five minutes.
I looked at the line of guards. Most of them were staring now. Eyes wide.
The whispers had stopped.
"Anyone else?" I asked.
No one moved.
I waited. Let the silence stretch.
Kael stood off to the side. Arms crossed. The smallest smile on his face.
Finally I spoke again. "Good. Then let's get started."
I walked closer to the line. Met their eyes one by one.
"From tomorrow, we train three times a week. Three hours each session."
I paused. Made sure they were listening.
"We'll cover conditioning. Combat technique. Tactical coordination. You'll work in pairs. In groups. Solo."
One of the guards raised his hand. "What's the goal? What are we preparing for?"
I glanced at Kael. He gave a slight nod.
"You're preparing to face elite warriors," I said. "Fighters who've trained their whole lives. You need to be better than good. You need to be ready for anything."
The guard who'd asked swallowed hard. But he nodded.
"Questions?" I asked.
Silence.
"Then we're done for today. First session is tomorrow. Four PM. Don't be late."
The guards dispersed. Some talking quietly among themselves. Others still looking at me.
Kael walked over. "That went well."
"They'll need a lot of work," I said. "But they're not hopeless."
"High praise from you," Kael said. Almost teasing.
I shrugged. "Just being honest."
He checked his watch. "I should get you home. It's getting late."
I nodded. Suddenly felt the weight of the day. My muscles ached. Not badly. Just the good kind of tired that comes after a solid workout.
We walked back to his car. The sun was lower now. Casting long shadows across the estate.
I slid into the passenger seat. Leather was cool against my back.
Kael started the engine. We drove in silence for a while.
I watched the trees pass by. Thought about the training ahead. What I'd need to teach them.
It wasn't just about fighting. It was about survival. Strategy.
They'd need to be sharp. Ruthless when necessary.
My mind drifted to Dad. Sitting at the kitchen table this morning. That defeated look on his face.
The factory. The accusations.
My jaw tightened.
Kael's father had done this. Used his power to crush a good man. Just to send a message.
I hated that. Hated bullies who picked on people who couldn't fight back.
But I couldn't think about that now. Had to focus on the training. On keeping my promise to Kael.
We pulled into my neighborhood. The familiar streets. Modest houses.
Kael stopped in front of my house.
"Thanks for the ride," I said.
"See you tomorrow," he replied.
I got out. Closed the door. Watched him drive away.
Then I turned toward the house.
And heard voices.
Raised voices. Coming from inside.
My stomach dropped.
I walked faster. Up the steps. Through the front door.
The voices were clearer now. Coming from the living room.
Mom's voice. Strained. Pleading. "Ethan, you can't do this!"
Ethan. Stubborn. Firm. "I already decided. I'm dropping out. I need to work."
I froze in the doorway.
The living room came into focus. Mom standing near the couch. Hands clasped. Face pale.
Dad sitting on the couch. Head down. Silent.
And Ethan. Standing near the window. Arms crossed. Jaw set.
He looked at Mom. "We need the money. You know we do."
"Not like this," Mom said. Her voice cracked. "Your education—"
"Doesn't matter if we lose the house," Ethan cut her off.