Chapter 226 TRAINING THE WARRIOR
After a couple of weeks
Conor
The sky looked incredibly blue today, that vivid shade of blue when there isn’t a single cloud in sight. The sun was shining brightly, and for a moment, I almost forgot it was autumn. The trees stood nearly bare, their roots covered in a blanket of dried, crisp leaves scattered by the wind.
A gentle breeze swept by, ruffling my hair. The weather was perfect—cool but not chilly. I took a deep breath, enjoying the calm of the moment. "It’s a great day to train my warrior wolf," I thought, feeling a surge of anticipation rise in me.
Well, calling her a warrior might still be a little premature. She was still in training, after all. But she had the spirit—strong and relentless, even if her body hadn’t quite caught up yet. I had promised to help her, to push her to her limits. Every day, I made sure her muscles burned, worked to the point where she couldn’t even think about giving in to her emotions.
Not that she wasn’t tough. She was—more than most. Like titanium. Life had rejected her more times than I could count, yet here she was, still standing, still fighting. That alone was something I admired deeply.
I watched her now, running through the obstacle course I had set up. Her body, once soft and worn, was starting to reflect the intensity of our sessions. Her legs had grown stronger from all the walking and sprints. I could see the muscle tone developing in her calves and thighs, a subtle power that spoke volumes of her effort. Her arms, too, were beginning to show the results of her work—defined but still lean. She wasn’t bulking up, just sharpening, becoming more and more refined, like a blade honed for battle.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
But we still had a long road ahead.
She was scaling the rope now, her hands gripping tightly as she pulled herself up, no knots to assist her. The strain showed in the bead of sweat that rolled down her forehead, her jaw set in determination. Every inch upward was a struggle, but she kept pushing, her breath steady, her focus unyielding.
It made me smile, though I wasn’t sure why. I hadn’t expected this. When I first brought her here a couple of weeks ago, she had been... broken. I could see it in her eyes, in the way she crumpled to the ground in tears, so lost in her sorrow that it seemed like the weight of it would swallow her whole. That wasn’t the fierce she-wolf I had been told about. I was expecting a warrior, not a fragile, delicate woman. But there was strength in her that went far deeper than the surface.
When she first arrived, her mind was scattered, shattered even. She had been carrying so much emotional pain, so much baggage, that it crushed her spirit. Seeing her like that stirred something in me. I remembered how it felt to lose Cilla, how lost she had been when she thought she had no chance with me. That raw, consuming grief. The memories still hit me every day.
It still hurt.
But I had gotten through it. I had learned how to live with the pain, how to use it, how to let it shape me. Training had become my way out—the physical exhaustion, the adrenaline, it all toughened me up both physically and emotionally. And I realized then that she needed the same thing. Not coddling, not pity. She needed something to fight for, a way to break free from the sadness that had taken root in her.
Her wolf had started to recognize me as her Alpha, and in her eyes, William was already fading into the past. She no longer saw him as her leader. I could feel it—the connection between us was deepening. She was more than just another wolf to train. She was... something more.
I could picture her being mine so easily. But the truth was, she wasn’t. She was with someone else.
"Hey, Edeline, why don't you take a breather?" I shouted, watching as she scaled the final wall of the course. When we first started, I had my doubts about her abilities, I won’t lie. But those early struggles only pushed her harder, made her more determined to improve. Now, it was time to take things up a notch. If she wanted to become the best version of herself, she’d have to push past her limits.
She landed gracefully, hopping down with a slight bend in her knees to absorb the impact. Her smirk was confident, almost too confident, as she swaggered toward me, feeling the strength from the training we’d been doing. I had to resist the urge to smirk back. She was getting good, but I didn’t want her to get too full of herself.
"Edeline, a quick heads up for next time," I called out, meeting her gaze as she reached for her water bottle. "It’d be great if you could pay a bit more attention to your jumps, especially when you’re leaping from one beam to the next. You almost stumbled on that last one." Her smirk faltered for a second as she took a swig, her expression shifting into something more neutral.
I shrugged, holding up my hands in mock surrender. "What? It’s true! But hey, that doesn’t mean you didn’t do a good job. You’ve come a long way, you know?" I chuckled, amused by how easily I could get under her skin. A little teasing was good, kept things light, but the advice was real. It’s important for a warrior to acknowledge their progress, sure, but they need to stay sharp, stay humble. Overconfidence could be deadly in battle.
Though, deep down, I doubted she’d ever be willing to fight by my side. She had her own path to walk, her own battles to face. But I’d train her to become the warrior she needed to be—someone strong enough to face her own demons, her own struggles.
She gave me a look as she slumped down on the chair next to me, breathing hard. Even with the sweat, there was something about her scent that still drew me in. Honeysuckle… and something else. Vanilla, maybe?