Chapter 222 Morning Training

Chapter 222 Morning Training
Chapter 222

RAVENNA

Someone was shaking my shoulder gently.

I groaned and tried to burrow deeper into the warmth beside me.

"Raven," Darius's voice came softly. "Wake up."

"No," I mumbled, my eyes still firmly closed. "One more hour."

"Torren's been calling you," Darius said, amusement in his voice. "He wants you for practice."

I groaned louder and pulled the thin hospital blanket over my head. "Tell Torren I'm tired and sleeping. He can train me later."

There was a pause.

Then Darius said, "I already told him you're on your way."

My head shot up, and I stared at him with wide, angry eyes. "You're joking."

"I'm serious," Darius replied, completely calm.

I glared at him, my exhaustion mixing with genuine anger. "That's not funny, Darius."

"I wasn't trying to be funny," he said, though I could see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

I threw off the blanket and grabbed my clothes, yanking them on with jerky movements.

My entire body ached from yesterday's brutal training session. My muscles screamed in protest with every movement.

And now I had to go do it all over again.

"Good morning," Darius said cheerfully as I pulled my jumper over my head. "Did you sleep well?"

I ignored him completely, grabbing my bag from the chair.

"Raven," Darius called out as I reached for the door handle. "Aren't you going to kiss me goodbye?"

I stopped, my hand on the door, my back to him.

I was quiet for a long moment, staring at the door and contemplating.

Part of me wanted to just walk out. To punish him for waking me up, for telling Torren I was coming when I was exhausted and hurting.

But the other part of me—the part that loved him desperately—couldn't leave without at least saying goodbye properly.

I turned and walked back to the bed.

Darius was watching me with soft eyes, waiting.

I leaned down and kissed him quickly but genuine.

"Take care of yourself," I said quietly. "And take your medicine."

"I will," he promised, catching my hand before I could pull away. "I love you."

Despite my irritation, I smiled. "I love you too. Even when you're annoying."

When I arrived back at the house, Torren was waiting for me in the driveway.

He was dressed casually in khaki shorts and a white top looking far too energetic for this early in the morning.

"You're late," he said, though there was no real anger in his voice.

"I'm here, aren't I?" I replied, adjusting my bag on my shoulder.

"Meet me at the back of the house in five minutes," Torren instructed. "And don't make me wait."

I went to my room and hurriedly changed into training clothes: leggings and a sports top that wouldn't restrict my movements.

I drank a full glass of water, knowing I'd need it, then headed to the back garden where Torren was waiting.

"Today we're working on control and balance of your wolf instincts," Torren said, getting straight to business. "Yesterday was about physical training—shifting, fighting, endurance. Today is mental."

I nodded, wiping sweat from my forehead even though we hadn't started yet.

Torren gestured for me to sit on the grass. "Your wolf has instincts that are completely separate from your human reasoning. Territorial instincts, pack hierarchy instincts, mating instincts and hunting instincts."

He sat across from me. "The problem you're having is that these instincts are overwhelming your human control. Your wolf sees a challenge and wants to dominate. Sees a threat and wants to eliminate it."

"I've noticed," I said dryly.

"The key is learning to acknowledge the instinct without acting on it," Torren continued. "Your wolf will always want to react. But you—your human mind—gets to decide whether or not to follow through."

He demonstrated by closing his eyes and taking slow, measured breaths. "When you feel your wolf surge forward, you pause, breathe and acknowledge the feeling—'Yes, I want to dominate this person. Yes, I want to fight.' But then you make a conscious choice not to act on it."

I tried to follow his example, closing my eyes and focusing on my breathing.

"It takes practice," Torren said. "Constant, daily practice. But eventually, it becomes second nature."

We worked on breathing exercises, visualization techniques, mental separation of human and wolf thoughts.

After an hour, Torren stood. "We'll practice this sometimes during our sessions. But I want you putting it into practice on your own every single day. Especially when you're at the academy around other students."

I nodded, understanding the importance. "I will."

"Good," Torren said. "Now go. You have classes."

Theodore drove me to the academy, the car ride quiet and comfortable.

When we arrived, I found Sam and Dorian already in the cafeteria, sitting at our usual table.

"You look exhausted," Sam said immediately as I sat down.

I dropped my bag on the floor with a heavy sigh. "Torren trained the hell out of me yesterday. I'm surprised he had compassion today and didn't make me train this morning."

"He did make you train this morning," Dorian pointed out. "Just not physically."

"Mental training is still training," I grumbled.

Sam laughed. "At least you don't have bruises from mental training."

We didn't have classes that morning—just wolf combat training, which was divided by species.

Sam headed to the human side of the gym whilst Dorian, Theodore, and I headed to the wolf side.

As we walked, Dorian leaned close and murmured, "I miss Darius."

I smiled. "I miss him too."

Someone grumbled in my mind—Darius, through the mate bond.

"Focus on your studies," his voice came, exasperated. "Stop thinking about me."

I smirked and replied through the bond, "Too bad. I'm thinking about ways to fuck you raw when you're healed."

I heard Darius cough violently on the other end of the connection.

"You'll be the death of me," he managed.

I laughed out loud, drawing curious looks from Theodore and Dorian.

"What's funny?" Theodore asked.

"Nothing," I said innocently. "Just thinking."

When we got to the combat class, the instructor was waiting at the door with an announcement.

"Class is cancelled," he said. "There's an impromptu teacher meeting with the directors that's going to last several hours. You're all sent back to your dorms to study."

A murmur of relief went through the students.

"But," the instructor continued sharply, "you're expected to actually study. No noise or ruckus. If I hear about any disturbances, there will be consequences."

We all nodded and dispersed.

I headed back to my dorm room, grateful for the unexpected free time.

For the rest of the morning, I buried myself in a book I'd found in the library about MoonWolves.

It was old, the pages yellowed and fragile, but the information was fascinating.

I read about what a MoonWolf carrier could do, my eyes widening with each new ability listed.

A MoonWolf could manipulate lunar energy to create shields of pure light that repelled attacks.

They could communicate with wolves across vast distances through the moon's connection.

They had the ability to heal injuries by channeling moonlight directly into wounds.

In rare cases, they could compel other wolves to obey commands, though this required immense control.

The most powerful carriers could even manipulate time itself during a full moon, slowing or speeding the passage of seconds.

And finally, in moments of extreme emotion, a MoonWolf could release a power wave that knocked out every wolf within miles.

I sat back, processing all of this.

These abilities were incredible. Terrifying even and so dangerous.

And I had access to all of them, potentially.

No wonder the Council was afraid of me.

I checked the time on my phone and was shocked to see half the day had already gone.