Chapter 17 Morning Training
The knocking pierced through my sleep like a hammer against glass.
"Christabel," I groaned into my pillow, my voice muffled and thick with sleep. "Knock it off."
But the knocking didn't stop. Instead, a voice filtered through the heavy wooden door.
"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty."
Enzo.
My eyes snapped open, my heart giving an irritated thump. I pushed herself up on my elbows and squinted at the room around me, frowning in dissatisfaction.
I’d been here for three days, and this place still didn't feel real.
I fumbled for the alarm clock on the nightstand and winced at the time on it.
6:00 AM.
"You've got to be kidding me," I muttered, throwing back the covers with more force than necessary.
The cold air hit my skin like a slap, and I shivered as my bare feet touched the floor.
Walking across the room, I yanked open the door, not caring that my hair was a tangled mess or that I was still wearing the oversized t-shirt I had slept in.
Enzo stood in the hallway, looking maddeningly put together in dark training gear, his arms crossed and that infuriating smirk already playing at the corners of his mouth.
He was dressed in a fitted black shirt and cargo pants, he wore combat boots that stopped at his ankles and his hair was messy in a way that looked intentional.
"Good morning, sunshine," he said, his tone dripping with amusement.
I glared at him, rubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands. "What do you want?"
"Training starts in ten minutes." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, like I should have known, like 6 AM wake-up calls were perfectly reasonable.
"Training?" I blinked at him, certain I had misheard. "What training?"
His smirk widened into something almost wolfish. "The kind that'll keep you alive." He glanced at an imaginary watch on his wrist. "Make that nine minutes now."
Before I could protest, and tell him exactly where he could shove his training session, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing down the hallway with casual confidence.
I stood there for a moment, my jaw hanging open, disbelief warring with indignation. Then I slammed the door hard enough to rattle the frame and immediately pressed my forehead against the cool wood.
"I hate it here," I whispered to no one.
But even as the words left my lips, I was already moving. Because as much as I wanted to crawl back into bed and pretend this was all some bizarre dream, I knew Enzo wasn't the type to make empty demands.
And something beneath the cockiness in his tone had sounded serious.
i walked to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, sighing at my reflection in the mirror. Was a night of good sleep too much to ask for?
I decided to talk a cold shower, certain that I had less than five minutes left of my time.
When I stepped back into the bedroom, I dressed quickly, yanking on black leggings and a fitted black top from the dresser.
I gathered my unruly hair into a high ponytail, pulling it tight enough to give myself a slight headache, and checked my reflection in the mirror.
Dark circles under my eyes and pale skin that made resemble something close to the bride in the corpse bride movie.
Just perfect.
When I stepped back into the hallway, Enzo was leaning against the opposite wall, waiting.
His eyes traveled from my shoes to my face, a slow, assessing sweep that made me bristle. Then he nodded, something like approval flickering across his features.
"Let's go."
He set off down the corridor, and I followed, staying a few steps behind. The silence between them felt heavy, so of course he had to fill it.
"Sleep well?" he asked over his shoulder.
"Like a baby," I lied. "A baby that got woken up at the crack of dawn by someone with a death wish."
He laughed and the sound echoed off the stone walls. "You'll thank me later."
"I doubt that."
We descended a narrow staircase I hadn't noticed before, the air growing cooler with each step, heading down a maze of corridors and hidden passages.
I tried to memorize the route, but everything looked the same. I’d seen the same dark wood and arched stone way rice, plus the faint smell of old bricks seemed to wrap around this part of the mansion.
Finally, Enzo pushed open a set of double doors, and we entered a large room with padded floors and mirrors lining one wall.
Training equipment was scattered around. There were weights, punching bags, and weapons of all kinds.
"Alright," Enzo said, moving to the center of the room and turning to face me. "Let's see what you've got."
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “What I've got is a serious desire to go back to bed."
"Too bad." He gestured for “me to approach. "Come on. Show me you can handle yourself."
I hesitated, then stepped forward. “What are the rules?” I asked.
“First to hit the ground loses.” He grabbed two wooden practice swords from the rack and tossed one at me without warning
I managed to catch it midair and spun it once, Enzo smirked at me like he thought I was showing off.
“What’s the wager?” I asked as I walked towards him, gripping the hilt of the sword.
Enzo padded towards him, his lips curving. “There’s no wager, sunshine. Show me what you’ve got.”
We began to circle each other, and when Enzo made his first move, I blocked it on instinct. His eyebrows shot up.
We sparred, and with each exchange, I could see the surprise growing in his expression.
"Where did you learn to fight like this?" he asked, breathing slightly harder now.
I ducked under his arm and stepped back, my own chest heaving. "At home. My father insisted." I swiped sweat from my forehead. "Not that I wanted to spend every morning getting my ass kicked, but apparently, he thought it was necessary."
Enzo lowered his hands, studying me with new interest. "Well," he said slowly, that smirk returning, "looks like daddy dearest did something right."
I didn't smile back. I just rolled my shoulders and raised my sword again but he smoothly blocked it.
He chuckled, a sound that rumbled low in his chest. “You’re getting cocky.”
“And you’re talking too much.” I snapped.
Our eyes locked and the air tightened between us until I moved. I hit him fast, my sword carving through air with brutal grace.
Enzo moved like the shadow of something you couldn’t touch, his defense skill was quite commendable , I would give him that.
“Still mad about the wake-up call?” His grin curved wider as he side stepped my blade.
“Mad enough to break your face,” I gritted, spinning into a kick that kissed his rib.
He laughed then pressed forward, sword clashing against mine. “You’re good,” he said, even as I forced him back.
“And you’re too slow.”I drew my sword back causing his guard to falter and that was all I needed.
I wrenched his wrist, ripped the blade free, and swept his legs out from under him in one fluid strike.
He hit the mat hard, and before he could recover, I was on him, my knees pinning his torso and my sword kissing the hollow of his throat.
There was silence except for the jagged sound of our breathing. Sweat slid down my temple, stinging my eye but I kept my gaze pinned on him, reminding him who’d won.
“Well,” he said finally, his voice rougher than before. “Guess the princess has fight in her after all.”