Chapter 25

Lucian's pov

"Are you dumb now? Are you just going to stand there and look at me?" she demanded.

It was the tone of her voice that brought me back to brutal reality. "I hope you realize who you are speaking to," I began.

"Why do you feel like that?" she asked, her voice low all of a sudden, and the transition took me by surprise. What was she talking about?

"Like what?" I demanded, frowning.

The tension in the air was still thick, but I could feel her anger dissipating. She took a step closer to me. "You feel like you are angry but not at me. I can tell this is all transferred aggression."

"You... you can feel my emotions?" I asked.

She frowned. "No, that's too strange to even mention, but I can just tell that you feel very angry," she replied.

The poor thing didn't even know what was happening to her. She looked so confused, and I did not feel like explaining to her, but all I could see was a new danger sign.

If she could feel my emotions, then that was one part of my privacy being cut off. Damn my bond with her—why couldn't it be severed?

She flinched as she stepped even closer, hands raised as if she wanted to touch me. "Lucian..."

"Focus on yourself," I snapped, my tone extremely harsh. I didn't even sound like me anymore, but I did not care much. "Don't waste time worrying about me. We have training to do."

I took my stance, but she still stayed where she was. She no longer looked confused—oh no, she looked like the anger had returned, even more intense than it had been before.

"You don't get to tell me what to feel, especially when you are not alright yourself."

Before I could even react to that, she hit her staff firmly on the floor. "And if I'm going to train with you, then you better treat me well. I am not a punching bag!"

Words stung. The worry she felt broke through to me, letting me know that she was not actually angry but frustrated that I would not share what was wrong with her.

How could I when it did not concern her one bit? Pack issues were my issues and no other person's.

"Get back to your position," I said.

"Will you treat me well?" she asked, the fire blazing.

"Must you be so difficult—"

"Who's talking?" she countered. "You're the one who refuses to be logical for once!"

"Pick up the staff," I said, punctuating each word slowly to make sure she heard me right.

"No," she said bluntly.

Never had I been so openly opposed. I scowled. "What did you say?"

"I said no." To prove a point, she let the staff fall to the floor and crossed her arms across her chest.

"If you want me to take this seriously, then stop being such a douchebag and actually teach me!"

I stepped closer and she flinched but held her ground. "I don't care what you think of me," I informed her. I really didn't—if I had my way, I wouldn't even interact with her at all. "You don't have to like me. All you have to do is survive."

"What about you?" Her voice was quiet now, its gentleness easing the tension I felt. "What are you surviving, Lucian?"

Echoes down the hallway to where my room was. I cowered under my bed. If I stood up to help and stop him from laying another hand on her, I would be the object of his cruelty instead. And punishment would be much worse, and he still would deal with her in a worse way another day, so I stayed where I was.

Another cry, and I couldn't stop the tears from falling down my cheeks. The next day, she was sick.

I blinked, pushing the flashback away. It had been a while since I last had them, and I suddenly did not miss them. Why were they coming back now?

Graystone, I thought, biting back the bitter taste in my mouth at the sound of his name. The man had to go about challenging my authority in my own Pack.

If his presence was bringing back the demons of my past, then it was not good. I had to eliminate him quickly if I was to stay sane.

"What's going on with you?" she asked, a frustrated edge to her voice. "Whatever it is is bleeding into this, and it's not helping either of us. We have to clear it up."

Her words hit me hard. I stared at her in shock. Was she asking me to talk because she actually cared, or because she was just curious?

Didn't matter anyway—I wasn't going to tell her anything. There was no point burdening her with Pack issues when she would rather be in the wild, away from all of us.

Suddenly I was struck with regret. Why did I bring her here in the first place? This was against her will—she didn't even belong here, my elders had pointed that out nicely. Why was I holding her a hostage?

I opened my mouth to speak, but I just didn't know what to say. Nothing I said now would be appropriate.

"I need to think," I said, turning away from her.

"The more time you take, the more you talk yourself out of it. Just tell me what's the matter—I can help!"

"No, you can't," I growled. "Let me be."

"I don't understand," she whispered, more to herself than to me. "You don't want to be left alone."

I turned to face her in surprise. She was right—I didn't actually want to be left alone. I hated being alone when the flashbacks came, but there was no way she could know that. And I also knew nowhere she could help.

I wiped all expression from my face, putting on my mask of coldness. "This training session is over. Go."

She exhaled deeply and picked up the fallen staff. She didn't argue like I expected her to; instead, she walked away, each movement slow and deliberate. I watched her go, my chest tight. The Graystone threat loomed in my mind.