Chapter 12: Training Sessions

Calla's POV

The basement was cold. My breath came out in little white puffs as I followed Darius down the concrete steps.

"Why does it have to be down here?" I asked, hugging myself.

"Privacy." He flipped on the lights. Fluorescent bulbs flickered to life, revealing a space that looked more like a gym than a basement. Mats covered the floor, weights lined one wall, and punching bags hung from the ceiling.

“Because there aren't any windows here and it's all soundproof too. If your wolf comes out, no one will know."

I stepped onto the mat. It was softer than I expected. "And if I can't control it?"

"Then I'll handle it." He pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside.

I tried not to stare, but failed completely. His chest was all muscle and scars, evidence of fights I'd never seen.

"See something you like?" he asked, smirking.

Heat rushed to my face. "Shut up."

"Make me." He crouched into a fighting stance. "Come on. Show me what you've got."

"I don't know what I've got." I mimicked his stance, feeling ridiculous. "I've only shifted once."

"Then we'll figure it out together." He circled me slowly. "Your wolf came out when you were threatened. When you were scared. We need to find what triggers it without the danger."

"How?"

"By pushing you." He lunged.

I yelped and dodged, barely avoiding his grab. My heart hammered against my ribs.

"Too slow," he said.

"You didn't warn me!"

"Rogues won't warn you either." He came at me again.

This time I was ready. I ducked under his arm and rolled across the mat. When I came up, I was breathing hard but grinning.

"Better," he said. "Again."

We went at it for what felt like hours. He'd attack, I'd defend. Sometimes I got away, and most times I didn't. Each time he caught me, he'd pin me down just long enough for me to feel trapped, then let me up.

"Your instincts are good," he said, circling again. "But you're thinking too much. Let your body react."

"Easy for you to say." Sweat dripped down my back. "You've been doing this your whole life."

"So trust your wolf. She knows what to do."

He charged. This time I didn't think. I just moved. My body twisted, my leg swept out, and suddenly Darius was on his back with me straddling his chest.

We both stopped like someone had paused time. "Good," he said, slightly breathless. "That was good."

I became very aware of where I was sitting. Of his hands on my thighs, holding me steady and of the heat radiating off his skin.

"Calla," he said quietly.

"Yeah?" I answered not trusting my voice.

"You're staring again."

"So are you."

His grip tightened on my thighs. "We should get up."

"Probably."

Neither of us moved.

Then something shifted inside me. A warmth spread through my chest, different from the mate bond with Lucas. This felt like choice. Like want that had nothing to do with destiny.

Darius's hand slid up to my waist. "Tell me to stop."

"I don't want you to stop."

He sat up in one smooth motion, pulling me with him. Now we were face to face, my legs wrapped around him, his arms circling my back.

"This is a bad idea," he murmured.

"The worst," I agreed.

He leaned in. His lips were so close I could feel his breath on my mouth.

Then the mate bond flared.

I gasped, hand flying to my chest. The familiar burning spread through me, Lucas's anger bleeding through the severed connection.

Darius pulled back immediately. "What's wrong?"

"The bond." I pressed my palm flat against my sternum. "It's...he's angry about something."

"He's always angry." Darius's jaw clenched. "Ignore it."

"I can't." The warmth I'd felt moments ago was replaced by Lucas's rage. It wasn't painful like before, but it was there. A constant reminder that part of me was still tied to him. "He's in my head."

"No, he's not." Darius cupped my face, forcing me to look at him. "He's not here, Calla. I am."

"I know, but—"

"But nothing." His thumb brushed my cheek. "You feel him because the bond is still there. But it doesn't control you. Not unless you let it."

I closed my eyes. He was right. The bond was there, would probably always be there. But it didn't have to mean anything.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"For what?"

"For pulling away. For letting him ruin this."

"He didn't ruin anything." Darius pressed his forehead to mine. "We have time."

"Do we?" I opened my eyes. "Because it feels like everything is moving too fast. The engagement, the training, whatever this is between us."

"What do you want it to be?"

"I don't know." I unwrapped my legs from around him and sat back. "That's the problem. With Lucas, I always knew what I felt. I wanted him to notice me, to see me as more than the ugly stepsister. It was simple."

"And now?"

"Now nothing is simple." I stood up, needing space. "Lucas is my mate, but he's also the person who hurt me most. You're supposed to be fake, but you feel more real than anything."

Darius got to his feet. "Feelings don't have to make sense."

"But they should mean something." I turned to face him. "With Lucas, there's the bond. With you, there's..."

"What?" He stepped closer. "With me there's what?"

"I don't know yet." I backed up until I hit the wall. "That's what scares me."

"You think I'm not scared?" He caged me in, hands on either side of my head. "You think this is easy for me?"

"Isn't it?"

"No." His voice dropped lower. "Because every time I touch you, I want more. Every time you smile, I want to be the reason. And every time that bond flares and I see you flinch, I want to rip Lucas apart for still having a piece of you."

My breath caught. "Darius—"

"I know this started as fake." He leaned closer. "I know I'm supposed to be helping you, not falling for you. But I can't help it, Calla. You're under my skin."

"This is complicated," I whispered.

"I know."

"We could both get hurt."

"I know that too."

"Then why—" He kissed me. Not asking permission this time, but just taking what he wanted.

And I let him. I kissed him back just as hard, fingers digging into his shoulders. The mate bond burned in the background, but I ignored it. Shoved it down deep and focused on this. On him.

On the way his hands slid down my sides. On the sound he made when I bit his bottom lip. On the press of his body against mine.

This wasn't love. Not yet. But it was real. More real than anything I'd felt with Lucas.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard.

"We should stop," I said.