Chapter 37
Elara's POV
The alarm didn't wake me. I was already awake.
I sat up in bed and stared at the window. The sky was still dark, but there was a thin line of gray on the horizon. Four thirty in the morning.
My chest felt tight. I pressed my hand against my ribs and took three slow breaths. In. Out. In.
The tightness didn't go away.
I reached for the inhaler on my nightstand. My fingers closed around the plastic cylinder. I stared at it.
If I used it now, my lungs would be clearer. But the medication made me jittery. My hands would shake. My reaction time would be off.
I set it back down. I'd bring it. But I wouldn't use it unless I had to.
I changed into my workout clothes—black leggings, a sports bra, a loose tank top. I pulled my hair into a ponytail. My hands moved on autopilot while my brain ran through scenarios.
What would Kael test me on? Speed? Strength? Strategy?
I was screwed on the first two. This body couldn't run fast or hit hard. But strategy... that I could do.
I grabbed the inhaler and shoved it in my pocket. Then I slipped downstairs.
The house was silent. I scribbled a note on the kitchen counter: Went for a run. Back soon.
I left before anyone could wake up and ask questions.
---
The streets were empty. My sneakers hit the pavement in a steady rhythm. The cold air burned my lungs, but I kept moving.
My mind drifted to my past life. To the training grounds in the Northern Territory.
I remembered the snow. The blood. The bodies of wolves who weren't fast enough or strong enough or smart enough to survive.
I remembered standing over them and feeling nothing.
Alpha training wasn't about fairness. It was about proving you deserved to live.
And I'd proven it. Again and again.
But that was then. That body could take a hit and keep fighting. Could shift into a wolf that made grown men piss themselves.
This body? This body got winded walking up stairs.
I clenched my fists. It didn't matter. I'd figure it out. I always did.
I had to prove to Kael that I wasn't some helpless Omega playing hero. That I could handle this.
Because if I couldn't convince him, I had no chance against Ragnar's pack.
---
The training ground was behind the gym—a half-enclosed outdoor space surrounded by chain-link fencing. The ground was packed dirt. There were practice dummies, weight racks, and a few benches.
Kael was already there.
He leaned against the fence with his arms crossed. His amber eyes tracked me as I approached. He didn't smile. Didn't move.
I stopped a few feet away. "Morning."
"You're late," he said.
I checked my phone. Five fifteen. "By thirty seconds."
"Still late."
I bit back a sarcastic reply. "I thought you'd appreciate that I showed up at all."
His expression didn't change. "Don't expect praise for doing the bare minimum, Grey."
I crossed my arms. "So what now? You going to make me run laps? Do pushups until I pass out?"
"No." He pushed off the fence and walked toward me. "I'm going to see if you're worth my time."
The way he said it—cold, dismissive—made my blood boil. But I kept my face neutral.
"Fine," I said. "What's the test?"
---
"Three minutes," Kael said. "Dodge my attacks. If I touch you, you fail."
I stared at him. "You're kidding."
"Do I look like I'm kidding?"
No. He looked like he was about to enjoy watching me fail.
I took a breath. "Okay. Let's do it."
He moved so fast I almost didn't see it.
His hand shot toward my shoulder. I jerked back, my feet stumbling over themselves. His fingers brushed my sleeve.
Damn it.
I reset my stance. This time I watched his shoulders. His weight distribution. In my past life, I'd fought hundreds of wolves. I knew how they moved.
Kael shifted his weight to his left foot. I saw it a split second before he lunged.
I sidestepped. His hand passed through empty air.
He came at me again. And again. I dodged—barely. My body was too slow, but my mind was faster. I read his movements before he made them.
Seven dodges. Eight.
On the ninth, my ankle rolled. I stumbled. His hand caught my wrist.
"Time," he said.
I yanked my arm free and bent over, gasping for air. My lungs screamed. My legs shook.
Kael watched me with an unreadable expression. "Your body's weak. But your instincts aren't."
I straightened up. "Is that a compliment?"
"It's an observation." He pulled out his phone and swiped the screen. "Next test."
---
He showed me a satellite image of Black Ridge Forest. Red dots marked different locations.
"Hypothetical scenario," he said. "This is a rogue camp. Three sentries here, here, and here. Five patrol teams rotating every two hours. How do you get in?"
I looked at the image for maybe ten seconds.
"There's a twenty-meter blind spot between the sentries on the east side," I said. "Patrol teams swap shifts at oh-six-hundred and oh-eighteen-hundred. Seven-minute gap. I'd enter from the east during the shift change. Take out the closest sentry with a ranged weapon. Create noise to draw the patrols away from the center. Then hit the main camp while they're distracted."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "That's not a defensive plan. That's an assault."
My stomach dropped. Shit.
"I told you," I said carefully. "I want to protect my family."
"Protecting your family doesn't require infiltration tactics." He stepped closer. "What are you really planning, Grey?"
I met his eyes. "I told you—"
"Bullshit." His voice was sharp. "You're planning to go after them. Alone."
I didn't answer.
He stared at me for a long moment. Then he laughed—a short, bitter sound. "You're insane. You know that?"
"Maybe."
"You'll die."
"Maybe," I said again. "But at least I'll die trying."
His jaw clenched. "And when you get yourself killed, everyone who helped you becomes a target. Did you think about that?"
I had. But I didn't say it.
Kael ran a hand through his hair. He looked... frustrated. Angry. And something else I couldn't name.
"One more test," he said finally.
---
"Attack me," Kael said.
I blinked. "What?"
"You heard me. Use whatever you've got."
I hesitated. Then I moved.
I went low, aiming a sweep kick at his legs. He dodged easily. I expected that. I used the momentum to push off the ground and drove my elbow toward his throat.
He caught my arm mid-strike.
We froze.
His hand was wrapped around my forearm. His face was inches from mine. I could see the gold flecks in his amber eyes. Could smell cedar and something wild.
My heart pounded. Not from exertion. From... something else.
His grip tightened. His breathing was heavy. His eyes locked on mine, and for a second, I saw something flicker there—surprise. Confusion.
Heat.
Then he let go and stepped back. Fast. Like I'd burned him.
"You pass," he said. His voice was rough.
I stared at him. "What?"
"You pass." He turned away. "But your body's a liability. You'll collapse before you even reach the camp."
I wanted to argue. But he was right.
"So what now?" I asked.
He pulled out his phone and typed something. Then he held it out to me. "Save this number. Tonight. Seven PM. I'll send you a location."
I took the phone and entered my number. "You're helping me?"
"I'm keeping you from getting yourself killed." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Don't be late."
He started to walk away.
"Harrington."
He stopped but didn't turn around.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked.
He was quiet for a moment. "Because I don't like watching people throw their lives away."
Then he left.
I stood there in the empty training ground, my phone in my hand, my heart still racing.
Kael Harrington was going to help me.
I didn't know if that made me relieved or terrified.
Maybe both.