Twenty One

Twenty One

Freya’s POV

Morning fog settled in the training yard as I rehearsed the new defensive sequence Marcus had shown me yesterday. My limbs were supple now, the movements easy in a way they’d never been from my earliest lessons with Godric. It was as if the sword were part of my will instead of a weapon I clutched in my hand, and something in me woke with a growling pleasure with every banked blow I struck.

“Good form,” Marcus slipped by with his typical calm resolve. “You are starting to realize that pregnancy is not weakness — it’s your strength modifying and working within new parameters.”

I let the practice blade down, hard-breathing but elated. At seven months pregnant, most Lunas would be restricted to “rambling walks” and “sewing of simple seams.” Rather, I was learning fighting skills to save my own life and shield my child.

“It’s not like it was when I learned from Godric,” I confessed, mopping my forehead. "Not so much to learn how to defend myself but more like… awaken something that had been inside of me, already there."

Marcus nodded approvingly. "Godric taught you how to wield a sword. I’m teaching you how to embrace the warrior that has always been good and alive inside you. I know how to fight versus being a fighter.”

He did a convoluted defensive combo into counterattack, damned if I ever saw him with enough sense of purpose to make his movements seem planned and lethal. "Your turn. But this time, do not move in the steps. Let your instincts guide you."

I shut my eyes briefly, aware of my wolf’s presence more acutely than ever. She rose so alert, so confident, ready to do anything in the world at whatever price for the defense of our young. When I stepped in and opened them and started the sequence, everything was different. Strength poured through me like molten steel, and I fought with a strength and speed that shocked us both.

"There," Marcus breathed, his golden eyes full of -proud. “Now that’s something I’ve been waiting for. You are securing that fighting knowledge, Freya. You're learning to be dangerous."

And I should have been afraid of the word, but instead it made me tremble in my chest. Too long I had been perceived as something precious but delicate that needed to be protected and handled with care. Now I was finding the can-do that had been buried beneath years of trying to be the perfect, non-threatening Luna.

"Ryan, didn't want me to be dangerous all this time," I said suddenly, seeing it so clearly. “He wished me to be pretty and submissive, never strong enough to hurt him.”

"Weak alphas are afraid of mates who can handle them," Marcus answered with the wisdom that came through experience. “They see collaboration as a menace rather than an opportunity. Powerful Alphas, like Godric, know that sharing power is multiplying power.”

In the hours that followed he guided me through more and more difficult scenarios – Multiple attackers, small spaces, defending a vulnerable third party while fighting. Each challenge brought out levels of strengths I never knew I had.

“Fighting is not a matter of physical strength,” Marcus taught us as we engaged in tactical drills. “It’s a game of reading your opponents, of predicting moves and using expectations against them. A pregnant Luna? The vast majority of your enemies will totally underestimate you. That is a weapon that has more use than any blade.”

He was right. In any case he invented, I used my looks and state of health to give the enemy a false sense of security before victory was mine with an unsuspected strength and skill. It was a psychological warfare tactic I’d never thought of, but one that felt intuitively right.

“Why do you bother to teach me this?” I asked during a brief rest. "Really? It’s not merely combat training.”

Marcus was silent for a long moment, his face blank. "Because I know what happens to strong women who aren't aware of their own strength. I’ve watched them get crushed by things they could have managed if somebody had shown them how to lean into their strength rather than conceal it.”

The pain in his voice is so much older, so carefully controlled. I knew he was talking from experience, but I didn’t push for details he wasn’t prepared to divulge.

“Now,” he added, reverting to his role as an instructor, “now we are going to read people. Combat is a matter of not just smashing enemies, but knowing them before they damage you."

It was a lesson even more insightful than the one done at the table. Even better, Marcus taught me about how to watch for subtle tells in body language, listen for deception in vocal patterns and discern the hard-to-read signals of insidious aggression or manipulation.

“Listen to your gut,” he would tell as we watched pack mates simply going through the daily grind. “Your wolf can tell when someone has bad intentions, no matter how much your human mind makes excuses for them. Learn to hear those warnings.”

He'd have me dine on the visiting dignitaries and servants' speech even Godric's older advisors. I was surprised by how much I could read into the truth of his misery just from looking properly at something I’d overlooked before.

"Alpha Peterson of the Eastern Territory," I replied as another of my visitors worked with other pack leaders. "He's nervous about something. His smile doesn’t stay in his eyes, and he looks repeatedly toward the exits as though trying to map an escape route.”

"Excellent observation," Marcus confirmed. "He'd been accepting bribes from the Council in exchange for information on Godric. He is guilty and appears to have been physically deceptive."

The article gave me chills. "Should we tell Godric?"

"We will. But first, take a look at everything else you can spot. The value of information is never more than the use to which it can be put.”

After our programs I had fleshed out three potential enemies, two "allies" who would pretend loyalty and an attendant we could wholly rely on due to their conspicuous dedication to the family. It was an enlightening, disturbing exercise.

"I didn't think that the world was as dangerous as it is," I said, as we made our way back to the castle.

“The world is always this dangerous," Marcus corrected gently. “You are only learning to see it. Ignorance may seem safer, but knowledge gives you the power to protect what matters.”

So, that night when Godric and I were sitting in front of our fire, I caught myself looking at him with my new eyes. And what I saw there made me feel warm and safe - the reality of love, that paternal instinct, the complete and total truthfulness about each look and every movement.

“You look a little odd to-night,” he remarked, laying his letters aside and looking at me with the most piercing eyes. "Stronger. More... present."

“Marcus has also been teaching me things not only in combat,” I confessed. “Reading people, identifying threats, understanding the political currents that surround us. I feel like I’m seeing everything much more clearly.”

Godric's expression grew thoughtful. “And what do you see when you look at me?”

I examined his face so closely that I thought of everything Marcus had trained me about revealing what’s true and what’s false. “When I look into his eyes, I see someone who loves me unconditionally. Somebody who’s never lied to me or tried to play on my feelings. Somebody who views my strength as a positive and not a liability.”
Relief washed over his face, so quick that if I hadn’t been observing so carefully I would have overlooked it. “I was afraid the training would make you doubt everything, including us.

“It’s made me more certain of us,” I said, and took his hand in mine. “Cause now I know the kind of love, for lack of a better word, or manipulation for that matter — partnership and control. What we have is authentic, un-chosen, tender. That just makes it more valuable, not less.”

He took me in his arms, and the few older fears I had disappeared. I wasn’t the shattered female who had run away from SilverFang in tears or even the weak, recovering female who had thrown herself at his Dark Alpha’s feet. I was transforming into someone brand-new — a woman who understood her worth and power, who could fight to protect herself and the ones she loved.

"I love you, too," Godric said, with a whisper against my hair. “Strong, self-assured and never afraid to take up space in this world.”

“I love her, too,” I said, even startling myself with how true this was. “I feel for the first time I like who I am.”

This time when he pulled me close, I nestled on his side and felt our child squirm within my barren womb as the world stretched golden ahead of us, and I knew Marcus had given me something far more precious than battle skills or political acumen. He'd helped me find myself.